A mere eight hours ago I came to the end of a two-day bender to mark my return to a payroll after a year spent freelancing and frittering away my redundancy payout. The end of this marathon session was marked when I fell into bed and drifted off into to some sort of coma at teatime and, having regained consciousness now, I feel as though I have been run over by a truck! Still, it had to be done.
My new job is in Big Town-East, 35 miles and a gruelling 90-minute motorway drive away from Pither Towers and it was in the leafy outskirts of that place where I toasted my return to gainful employment.
I have been out playing, and staying, with two very special chums and their fantastic kids who invite me over from time to time, in between spending time in rehab.
I left them lying in the rubble of what was once their beautiful home, having drunk every drop of wine they had. I imagine they are only just coming to terms with the full horror of the fact that, now I am working about two miles away from them, I shall be calling round more often.
Anyway, I am posting for two reasons. Firstly, I might, possibly, owe the woman who interviewed me for, and gave me, the job (i.e. Jakasta/Angel Moonchild/Felicity/Dawnblossomhoneybunkins/Shiona) a teeny-weeny bit of an apology. She was not, as I had predicted, a fuckwit-dumbass but, clearly, a woman of incredible good taste and perception.
Secondly, I want the world to know that I have a new friend and confidante. His name is Ollie and over the last two days I have chatted in depth to him in the early hours after my chums waved the white flag and went to bed. I owe him a great deal.
Meet Ollie.
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Shaggy Blog Stories
1 comment:
I have been waiting up for you, young man.
How in the name of buggery fuck are we supposed to start the revolution from within when you can't stay sober long enough to open a people's collective in your place of employment?
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