Well, that wasn’t so bad! Despite me wanting it to be quick and painless, with the minimum of fuss everyone turned up anyway (Wendy’s workmates, even her hairdresser, bless) and I quite got into it. We decided to go to a local spit-and-sawdust pub that is down the road from the registry office (Lisa, Jo and I were once regular denizens there) for a bit of a chat and a mingle. Everyone was really nice, and gave us loads of money, (so much so I’m thinking of giving up work and becoming a serial husband) and it was really nice. Luke and Mandy took a load of photo’s for us (the album is here:) http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/addison.luke/WeddingEdits?feat=email I’ll be posting a load of them on my pictures, so as to put names to faces, but I have to go to work this afternoon, so I am a bit short of time at the mo. Also yesterday, we parked in a one hour, no return for an hour parking spot for about three hours and didn’t get a ticket! Yeah, even on my wedding day I’m a rebel without a cause! I fought the law and I won! We have decided to put all that money everyone so kindly gave us into a holiday. Nip Scotland for a week at the end of May, early June. As this will be our second proper holiday in nearly fourteen years, we are quite excited. Well, it was quite good fun, we are wed now, and everyone turned up and more. Later, Buck.
Continue readingAuthor: Buck
Did anyone get the number of that bus?
Well, what a couple of days I’ve had. I had been a bit tickly for a few days, nothing serious just the odd cough. I started feeling a bit rough on Tuesday night, thought no more of it and toddled off to bed. When I got up Wednesday morning at 5 I felt like death. Hot and cold sweats, massive headache, thoughts not quite right, just holding my head up was an effort. I ‘phoned in sick, had a Lemsip and went back to bed. I was taking paracetamol every four hours, then I was sick, started with diarrhoea, was a bit delirious, and still in massive pain from the headache. I decided my body was trying to tell me something with the evacuation, so set to starving myself for 48 hours. This was exceptionally easy given how I felt. I barely got out of bed Wednesday or Thursday, I was having pain killers every four hours around the clock (screw the ‘do not exceed four doses in 24 hours’, if that’s what they want, make stronger pills)! By the middle of Thursday night the pain was so severe I couldn’t even wait the full four hours. And by the way, to any mothers who read this, I looked it up on the Internet comparative pain guide, and it said "Yeah, you wish you were in labour! This is proper pain, not one twinge every five minutes." Which is to pre-empt my sister. When Wendy was telling her how the doctor had to try to talk to me to stop me from passing out from the pain of not properly anaesthetised vasectomy, she said "How long was he on the table for, 15 minutes? I was in labour for 38 hours!" I was that desperate I even considered praying! I was thinking on the lines that it couldn’t do any harm, but then I got to thinking it must surely end sometime, and I didn’t want to be that hypocritical. Then I tried a few of the Buddhist Jedi mind tricks, and whilst they do allow you to accept the pain, the effort of holding the concentration was as tiring as the rolling around whimpering (manfully, you understand). Anywho, the headache finally broke at 3am today (Friday). By that time I’d been in bed for two days, and necked a hell of a lot of pain killers, so when my head stopped hurting I was fully able to appreciate the degree of discomfort the small of my back was in. So still no restful sleep. I’ve been on tenterhooks since about 7 this morning, which is when the last lot of pain killers should have ran out. It’s 10.11 am and still no headache. Please let that be it. It wasn’t just the degree of the pain, it was not knowing when it was ever going to end. I was actually going to go to the doctors this morning. It had come to that. Though they never treat me I […]
Continue readingThe only church you’ll get me in is Charlotte
We are getting married. Wendy and I, not Charlotte Church. In the registry office, not the church, sorry Charlotte. Right, preliminary confusion sorted out we can proceed. Wendy and I are to be wed. A week on Thursday (the fifth of March). Thirteen years, seven months, and three weeks after we started seeing each other again (we went out for a year on a separate occasion prior to that). Personally I think we should heed the adage "Marry in haste, repent at leisure", but little miss impetuous will insist. I’ll just have to keep my wits about me if she starts saying that I should take out life insurance. We had ruminated over doing the deed and then telling everyone. That way we could have the quiet, no fuss, just making it legal, sort of affair we were after. However, we thought the family might be miffed. So we’ve announced it. Spectacular non-event. I sent an email to my mob, they couldn’t even get up the enthusiasm to acknowledge receipt, never mind say if they were coming or not. Admittedly, it is going to be deathly dull. We don’t drink, do other drugs, or anything else that makes not being dead seem worthwhile. So it’s a quick service, then home again for a nice cup of tea. However, as this is my only time I’m to wed, you’d have thought someone would have at least said ‘congratulations’. Not a sausage. I gave it about four days, then when Wendy was getting on at me, rang them up to see if they’d got the email. I think they were going to be apathetic, but couldn’t be arsed. Should have gone with plan A. Now (that I have rang them) my sister wants me us to do something. Go the pub (we don’t drink, see above) or have a barbeque (I’m a veggie, it’s going to be March, and we will be wearing nice togs which we don’t want smelling of smoke. Also we don’t drink). Apparently Wendy’s sister has similar, though doubtless more expensive, ideas (we are also skint). Got to make a fuss. This is what I didn’t want. It’s like being dead; there’s nothing to worry about once you are, it’s becoming so that is the unpleasant bit. In other news, I have started trying to learn Russian again. I have come across a stack of audio and literary stuff and it has fuelled my interest again. This gives me some consolation after having to abandon (suspend, hopefully) my previous newest obsession, Wing Chun Kung Fu. The money just isn’t there to keep going at the moment. I missed my grading for Taekwondo, had a sulk for a week and will have to return on Wednesday still on my first belt! Big bummer. My ‘to do’ list is somewhat contradictory at the mo; get license and massively well paid job (which will probably entail working 60 hrs per week) then somehow train four nights a week in TKD and […]
Continue reading…and, relax.
Well bugger me! What a difference a day makes. I’ve gone from blind panic to hopeful. Yesterday I was working out our finances and finding them wanting in all but debts, today it might be a done deal. Wendy was at the Citizens Advice today (as a volunteer) and was approached by the trainer there, (who is on the main management committee) and told to start thinking about applying for a job as several of the debt people there are leaving. There is to be a big shuffle of positions and jobs will be being advertised. A nod being as good as a wink (to a blind horse), I’d say Wendy’s in with a good chance for one of them. Then when she got home she was ‘phoned by one of the women she used to work with at another branch who told her they had jobs coming up, including her old one! Apparently they’ve not been able to find a suitable long term replacement for Wendy, as all who’ve followed her have been rubbish. Allegedly. (Who knows who reads these things, or how litigious they might be?) So in the space of a day it’s all turned around. Yesterday I was a panic stricken having realised the credit was about to run out, today I reckon it’s just a matter of hanging in for another month or so and we’ll be solvent again. This takes the pressure off me for my driving. I reckon Wendy’s a shoe-in for one of the jobs that are coming up, so I can just relax and do my driving. Now it’s just a matter of time until I pass, (the funding is as good as in place). Whilst I would like to pass first time I don’t have to flap about it if I don’t. Then just apply for every job going. Also if Wendy does get one of these jobs I can spend a final £500 and get that ADR (hazardous goods) license, then I’ve got everything I need to be a petrol tanker driver. Artic, ADR, tanker driver, world domination. That’s the plan. I’ve spent all night roughing out the figures for when we both have the jobs to which we aspire. Even a conservative estimate (IF we both get them) puts us debt free by the end of this year! Which would probably be the first time for me since…, well, since I could get credit. Which is when I had my first proper job after leaving school. I will be so happy on that day. I seem to be forever playing catch up on what I’ve already spent (and in the good old days; drank, smoked, or crashed). I’ve been driving Wendy to distraction all night working it out. The debts we will pay, the savings account (savour the concept) we can open. Who knows; a cheap bike, a sax, maybe even a holiday. It would be our second proper holiday in the thirteen years we’ve been together, so […]
Continue readingPanic when I do…, PANIC!
Oh my. Went for my hour’s assessment in an artic today. They are spiffy. It’s like the flight deck of the Enterprise in the cab. Big computer to run everything, an air sprung seat that weighs you then sets itself to your weight, half gears (where if you change up and it’s a bit much for the engine, or hit a hill and start to lose momentum you just flick a switch, dip the clutch and you’re away again). Even cruise control, you just flick it on and the engine carry’s on without driver input. This leaves you free to rest your foot and play on your laptop (or something). The downside is it’s weird as hell to drive. It’s massive for a start. It’s like taking Wales for a joyride. Then the aforementioned air sprung seat, which is doubtless the last word in comfort, bounces you up and down like a yo-yo making your foot bob up and down on the accelerator. Weird, and not a little nerve wracking. Then there’s the location of the training place; Manchester for a start, (I had a minor panic attack trying to find the damn place, the flashback to my abortive attempt to become a despatch rider round there was only too vivid.) and in a yard with a normal sized gate at right angles to a titchy little back street, to boot. Just being in the cab with the guy driving it out of there put years on me. I had a go at a driving, (in more or less a straight line) pulling over and setting off again, a U turn (you start driving more or less at your own trailer. So weird) and a quick reverse in the yard. The reverse seems easy enough. Long and short of which is; I’ve signed up for 20 hours driving and a test. Starting the 9th of March, test on Friday the 13th. The panic thing in the title, is I then had to pay for it. £809. That leaves me with about £1,000 available credit. Or to put it another way: about another three tests, if I fail the first time. Then I’m out of credit. God knows what happens then. Selling my bottom around town when the fleet is in, I suppose. So, no pressure there then. As those new aerodynamic, allegedly tree hugging, planet saving Marks and Sparks trailers proclaim, "because there is no plan B". This has to work. I have to pass within available credit. I have to get a job and earn vast amounts of money. And it all has to happen within the next few months. If this was just me I wouldn’t worry. Run up the credit then let them try and take from me what I don’t have. However, the card I have been running up is in Wendy’s name. She would take it amiss if she were brought to book for it. She’s like that. When (not if) I do get a […]
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