Change, change and change again.

What a farce this week was. I went in work on Monday and they officially told me that my job had been given to a full-timer and if I wanted any work I’d have to go to Crewe. They said to think about it and tell them on Tuesday.

I went in on Tuesday and they were surprised and confused. Apparently that was it on Monday; either commute 350 miles a week to Crewe or bugger off.


I said I couldn’t do Crewe and was all set for going home, but then they swapped stuff around and sent me on my usual run after all. Bugger.

The agency rang me shortly after to tell me what I’d just found out, that I was without work. They said I could have Wednesday off, work Thursday and Friday for some other firm, then they’d put me back in Irlam on Monday on a different job, 0800 start. Nice one!

I’d barely put the ‘phone down when Irlam rang me on the truck ‘phone again. They had work for me in Knowsley. I said the agency had just been on and arranged work for me for the rest of the week, back in Irlam Monday. He said that was an ad hoc job and they wouldn’t need me Monday. *headsteeringwheel*

He rang the agency and then rang me back five minutes later about the Knowsley gig. “I’m going to make you this one time offer”,  “I’ve stuck my neck out to get you this”, “You either take this or that’s the end of your career with Ceva.”

Honestly. No shit. He actually said that bollocks.

I said I’d do it, just to shut him up.

I got finished at 23.45 on Tuesday, home and in bed for 0100, had to be up for 0745. I was already knackered, after a couple of long days, that was a killer.

I went in to do the “Trunking… It will be right up your street” only to find it was shunting around the yard and short distance general haulage. Ace.

This was picking up and dropping off pallets of newspapers. To new places I’d never been, down routes I didn’t know. I did the first run without too many problems. I came back, got tipped, and loaded. I set off to the second drop.

When I got there the whole load had tilted over.

It was all leant against one curtain. The papers were still on their pallets, still wrapped, but the wrap didn’t go around the pallet so they had just tipped sideways.  The depot refused the load and I had to take it back to the yard. On my first day at the new gig.

Then on the way back the M60 was bollocksed and I got stuck in it so went a few minutes over my driving time. I was thinking ‘ah well, at least I won’t have to face them tomorrow’ (as I’d be so sacked off.)

They told me to come in the next day! Are they mad?

I’ve learnt my lesson. Papers are bastards. Put as many straps as you can find on the bastards and go around every corner as slow as you can. Seems to work, I’ve done Thursday and Friday without incident.

When I finally got home on Wednesday night I thought I’d be sacked on Thursday as it would happen again. I honestly don’t know what I did wrong.  Just be extra, piss-takingly cautious on every bend.

The bright side to this new gig is the guy said he was overruled and forced to take an agency driver, he only wants full-timers.  I joked that I’d prefer to be a full-timer. He said, as the only agency guy, if I was any good I’d be the first choice as soon as something came up. If we can move on from that disastrous first day I’m in with a shout.


The other news is that I’ve set my baseline of fitness. It’s 3 miles at 6.30 m/m pace. I’ve ran it twice. Tonight I thought I was going to piss it, maybe speed it up or go longer, then suddenly at 2½ miles I was wrecked. I just wanted to stop. I had to really force myself to just keep going.  I was hoping I could set it to 6.40 m/m pace and properly start on #missionimprobable.  Sorry, that’s how I refer to it on Twitter. It looks stupid on here. Won’t happen again.


OK, I lied.


Today was extra painful due to a work related injury. Hmm, someone should start a claims business in that.

Anyway, a lever at head height was stuck fast. I tried pushing it and hitting it, but it just hurt my hand. I resorted to gently persuading* it with my foot.  (*kicking the shit out of it.) Then one of my kicks missed and hit the base of the trailer (at chest height) my boot stopped dead but my foot carried on and smashed into the steel toecap of said boot.  I was giving it some welly and it was supposed to strike 18” higher so it was a big impact. I was hopping around for a few minutes in a world of pain.  My big toe, already a bit of a mess from running, is now all swollen and bruised. So tonight’s run was especially unpleasant.


Anyway, got to be up for 0550, better get to bed.

I’ll fill you in on the doings on Twitter next time.