Turns out working isn't all it's cracked up to be. I shouldn't really complain (however, I think we all know I will) but I am doing absolutely nothing in my job at the Ministry. Now a lot of people use that term 'nothing' lightly and with some license, but believe me when I say that the grand total of my work for the last few weeks has been literally nothing. Let's see what it says in the internet dictionary:
a nonexistent thing.
This is exactly what I mean.
Nothing is an album by Swedish tech metal band Meshuggah.
This is not what I mean. Please don't get confused. Obviously it does have its advantages - I'm able to write my blog a lot more often and in more detail than I've been able to for some time (a double-edged sword, some might say) I can use e-mail all day for free and my progress at online mini pool has been monumental, but, truth be told, it can get a bit dull. Here is a list of some things I do at work when the boredom sets in:
1) Go and whinge about it to some lucky swine.
2) Watch film trailers and get depressed about not being a film maker.
3) Call England for the latest instalment of Rainwatch.
4) Take a dump and try to calculate exactly how much money I made in the process (about $2.20)
5) Turn booth into private masturbatorium and furiously try to get one off before the porn police arrive.
One of these is untrue, can you guess which one? I'll leave it to you to decide. Anyway, there's a brief summary of my working day. Nightmare! Just had this open when my boss came round the corner! Of course she didn't have any actual work for me to do, but wanted to let me know there might be something to do later on in the week. I couldn't close this or minimise cos it would've looked too obvious, so I had to leave it open while she talked to a quickly reddening me. Her eyes kept darting on and off the screen to start off with, but then she began looking at it for longer periods. Think she may have seen the masturbatorium line. Bugger. That's that over with then.
Had my own Lost In Translation experience last night involving a lift, of all things. Regular readers will recognise this particular transportation as one which has caused me anguish in the past and is beginning to take the part of my nemesis in this country. I dunno what it is about the lift - we just clearly have a mutual disdain for one another, I suppose. One cannot live while the other survives. Bonus point for anyone who gets the nerdy but topical reference. Crashing on - I got in the lift and a Japanese girl in her early 20s quickly joined me and as the doors began to close I pressed the button for my floor, 16. I asked the girl what floor she wanted as the lift creaked upwards. She said 17 and all was well. However, when we got to my floor and the doors opened the girl got out in front of me and started to walk away until I asked her, 'didn't you want 17?'. Apparently this is hilarious, as she folded up with uncontrollable laughter at my suggestion and was pointing directly at me. Wittier readers may have already begun to formulate triumphs of comedy involving her pointing and laughing simply because of the way I look, but I'm pretty convinced, monstrous though my appearance may be, that this didn't have anything to do with it.
I stood there with a look of bewilderment, transfixed by the bizarre creature as she continued to laugh for what seemed like hours and repeated '17!', as if it were truly the funniest thing she'd ever heard. Eventually I shook off the hypnotic snare of this grotesquely odd situation, realising it was a dreadful miscommunication which I, frankly, couldn't be bothered to rectify. Instead I turned and made my way back to my flat door muttering, more to appease myself than anything, 'this is 16, you daft cow', at which point she decided to try what would have been her equivalent door on the 17th floor and completely lost it. My flat was open at this point and although she had turned now and was looking to me to join in the just weird revelry, I quickly spun round the doorframe and slammed the door in her face. I need explanations here, people. What was I missing? Can anyone offer any light?
That's how for now. Any web pages I should be looking at during my 'down-time' would be gratefully received. All contributions to the usual address.
Andrew Mills
A multi-billionaire who made his first million in the ultimate fighting arena. A philanthropist of the highest order - his dedication to charity work is matched only by his obsessive pursuit of archaeological antiquities. A modern day Indiana Jones.
3 comments:
NICE BLOG.
Well, I've actually done it - I read your blog it its entirety (it was a big dump). I have to say, it was an amusing read. I particularly like the parts where you hurt yourself or make a fool of yourself. I thought you were a bit of a geek for writing a blog. I still do…but now I think you’re a very amusing one. I have to say, little disappointed that the weekend I was up there didn't make it on there. It’s not every day that one of your dearest friends comes to visit! Tres bien. Carry on.
I can see that you are growing as a blog writer. You have now introduced the interactive blog...now all of your fans can enjoy every gripping thought online and it gives us all something worthy to think about after the fact. It's just the gift that keeps on giving!
Unfortunately I have no idea what your elevator friend meant my her giggles. Perhaps she just came back from puffing on a bit of crack from the park nearby or maybe she was so taken by your greatness, that all she could utter in her star-struck state was uncontrollable laughter. Naw, couldn't be that!
I loved the blog as usual AM and am ever so glad that we were all treated to two in one week.
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