Author: Buck

The times they are a changing. Had Wendy’s parents over for 10 days, stopping with us, for Wendy’s niece’s wedding. While I was working nights. And they are deaf. You can imagine how much fun that was. Added to the usual quotient of their god-squad bigotry. *in with calm* Anyway, got to grin and bear it. They are cake fiends though. I ended up making 2 fruitcakes (8” circumference x 2” deep) a cheesecake (same) and two lots of flapjacks. They were away from our house for 3½ days! Wendy says I should take it as a compliment to my baking, but I reckon they’d have eaten a rat if I’d have sprinkled it with hundreds and thousands. Anywho, the reason I can bake all the above is because I have a sweet tooth. So I was tucking in. I’ve not baked anything for ages before their visit as Wendy can’t eat it/ was dieting. They went back, I saw a rather natty summer coat on ebay, tailor made, height, chest, weight… OMFG! 11 stone, 12 pounds! Crash diet. Waddle my lard arse around a 10 mile run every day. I’m currently filling up on humble pie. Last year I had the attitude “If  you can put one foot in front of the other you can run a mile, if you can run a mile you can run a marathon. Just do it.”  I started on project #10milesaday yesterday. Luckily my GPS watch was flat and my other watch needs a new clasp, so I just let my legs set the pace. I was satisfied just to waddle the full 10 miles. The last time I saw a finish as a goal was that 50 mile run last year, it’s been years since I was happy just to finish a shit-slow 10 miler. I went out today with the my GPS watch but the same strategy. Turns out I’m averaging 8.46 m/m. *hangs head in shame* Woe unto the house of Bucky. My plan is just to grit my teeth and do 6 x 10 miles runs a week (they say you should factor recovery into training) until I feel I can push on again, then up the pace and distance.   Due to the nights gig I’ve given up on the tready. I never got to train because of the noise. I’ve sold it on ebay. Collection only. A geezer from Ireland bought it. “Can you post it?” He wanted to send a parcel company around to pick it up. I said it was nearly 6 foot tall and 120 kilos, it wasn’t going to go in an envelope. Eventually he arranged for 2 men and van to pick it up. At 0800 hrs. I stated repeatedly ‘any afternoon’ and ‘selling because I work nights and can’t train’. Dick. So, a week later two Polish lads turned up with a van and took it. Huzzah! Wendy is ecstatic now she’s got her roomy kitchen back. Now we’ve got to […]

Really. Basically this is to update you on Twitter. Work has suddenly turned around. After me bitching it was a great job but not enough hours suddenly last week I was blitzed. I got 6 shifts and 58 hours pay. This job is definitely a keeper. It’s only 4 weeks until I’m on pay parity which would have had me taking home £773 for last week. As it is I’m not complaining about £617. I don’t have a life, all I do is try to sleep and work, but with Wendy running out of (a very generous, 6 months) sick pay and our debts (from the bastard tax man and car) to clear, but pronto, that is all for the good. Besides, get the debts paid off (£1,500 paid off in 6 weeks, Wendy on half pay not withstanding!) and then we can get me a Harley. I’ll still not have a life, but then I’ll have a Harley so won’t mind. Wendy is going stir crazy. She’s been stuck in the house, on her own with no one to talk to, and now can’t make any noise all day as I’m asleep. She’s too weak to go out and do anything and daren’t eat any more than the bare minimum to keep her alive. She’s a shadow of her former self. She was dieting before all this bollocks, (rapid weight loss being a trigger for the condition, ironically) but now she simply daren’t eat. Still another 2 months before her pencilled-in, ballpark, estimate for an operation date. So not great.   All my sporting plans for the year are in ashes and ruins. Until I can adjust and get some decent sleep I am in no condition to do anything. I was reading something recently that explained that getting 3 or 4 hours, getting up as you can’t sleep, then having a few hours later before work is no good. You need a long sleep to go through the different sleep stages to get refreshed. I’ve had a few good days, but usually it’s degrees of bad. From tomorrow it’s about to get a whole lot worse. Wendy’s mam and dad are here from Spain for a fortnight. They are a bit deaf, so pretty LOUD. Oh dear oh dear. Anyway, nothing happening. Work, dream of sleep and work.   So to Twitter; The DMreporter had: MYSTERY: Was flight MH370 hijacked by a foreign, benefit claiming nurse on the way to a climate change event? Help us out here. EXCLUSIVE: We character assassinate Prince Harry’s girlfriend because her failure to get engaged on our timetable is messing up ad sales. This week’s Daily Mail Cancer List: Mo) Swiss roll Tu) Baldness We) Attics Th) Cocktails Fr) Disco music Sa) Denmark Su) Non-Christian gods GEORGE OSBORNE: "The middle classes like the 40p tax rate; it makes them feel like big men with a strong seed in the belly of their woman."       MailSimplified added: TEEN MOTHER BEHIND THE […]

After me going on about how much money I was going to be on and how this could be my job for life it’s all gone a bit Pete Tong. The shifts are too short. You’re lucky to get a 9 hour shift (paid, plus 45 minutes break) as a driver you expect at least a 10 hour day. Then I was stood down for one day one week, two days last week. Admittedly I had to take an extra day without work/ pay to do my driver training (CPC) course, but still, a 3 day/ 27½ hour week is no good to anyone. The CPC thing is a new hoop the government have introduced through which drivers have to jump. You have to do 5 days of training every 5 years. Not practical training, just classroom stuff. Without an exam. You just have to attend. And it’s so badly arranged you could take the same class five times and still get your card. The one I did was designed for Walkers and was based around safe, fuel efficient driving and pre-op checks. One bit had me in bits. The trainer was explaining the two main groups of defect; minor and serious. Minor being that which you could legally drive with (radio not working, dent, etc) and serious being that which grounded the vehicle (VOR, Vehicle Off Road). He asked one guy, who he obviously knew well, to give an example of a minor defect. The guy said “Flat tyre.” The trainer said “FLAT TYRE? A minor defect? You’d drive that would you?” He continued “Of course, if you’re not sure you can ask someone more qualified.” (To the guy) “In your case a passing dog. ‘Ere, mate, put down that turps for a minute, what do you think of this?” I hooted. But back to my point, unless I can start to whack in some hours I will have to start looking for work again. This is a total bummer, as the job remains the easiest and best paid I’ve had. And the best treatment I’ve ever received. Before I got into this gig I thought people liked drivers. Not even. Most places they are tolerated as a necessary evil. It might work out. Perhaps this has just been a blip. It’s still a lot of money for what I’m actually doing, just not enough hours. However, if it doesn’t work out, Asda and a few other companies are currently building *massive* distribution centres (DC) right next to the M62 junction 9 (Ikea) exit. Right on my doorstep. I know I can pass the driving assessment, I think it’s supposed to be good money and lots of hours. And as they are opening a new DC they will need new drivers. Lots won’t relocate or commute. Anyway, I’m just saying if this doesn’t work out there are other options. I would really like this to work out though. As it stands this job would pay the bills, but not […]

Bruce Springsteen quote there, in case you were wondering. Sadly it’s very apt. That is all I am. I had one day where I slept well during the day and I thought I’d started to adjust, but no. It’s 4 hours sleep, then wake up, sleep, wake up. I’m getting between 5½- 7 hours a day. Grim. Normally, oddly, I’m not too tired during the night. On Saturday I was snottered though. I got in, had 5 hours sleep, then got up so I would be able to sleep last night. I was awake and feeling goddawful for about 8 hours then gave up and went back to bed. I had 14 hours sleep. Wow. I must have been a bit tired. I’m still tired. But that is it; my life is just work, try to sleep, get up, sit around bog-eyed, then go to work. And repeat. I’ve had one sax session, one run in the last week. I’m waiting until I adjust, then it will be fine. My shifts are, by lorry driving standards, all early darts. I was hoping for a 50 hour week, (53.45 if you include unpaid breaks) that’s a nice compromise between money and life. My first full week I got 46½ hours, last week 40½. That’s no good to me. We’ll have to see how it goes. On the one hand I’m getting loads of money per hour, but on the other I could be taking home more (by working shitloads more hours) elsewhere. It’s early days yet. I’ll see how it goes. Once the bills are paid (and I’ve adjusted to nights) short shifts could suit me. I reckon, once I’m on pay parity (9 weeks and counting) I would still be taking home £500+ for a crappy 40 hour week. And I could do stuff. Such as train. Or sleep. Mainly sleep. At the moment I’m having an ongoing ‘debate’ on Twitter about bloody ignorant cyclists riding in the middle of the road. It’s not going well. For them. Cycle nazis. By far the easiest demographic to wind up. Not that I’m exactly trolling, just not sugar coating it. Bastards. I did mention in passing that I’m probably not ideal triathlete material; I hate swimming, cyclists infuriate me and I’m shit at it. Whadda ya gonna do? Anyway, things are degenerating at a predictable rate. That’s it. All my news. Apart from Wendy having a provisional date for her operation. In May. *epic sigh* So just to catch up on Twitter then I’m doing some sax-ing.   DMreporter kept us abreast: POLITICS: Nick, like, totally hates Dave now and, like, wants to be mates with Ed but Ed was all, like, “no way” and called him a “minger.” ALL IN THIS TOGETHER: The £50bn earmarked for HS2 rail link between the North and the South ‘should just be spent in the South’ say MPs. SOCHI: “Scotland, go fuck yourselves” – David Bowie updates his message following Britain’s defeat in the curling […]

I applied for this new driving job because Hermes has let me down and the tax man had just robbed us blind so we needed cash. I’m really glad I did. The job is a doddle and it’s loads of dosh. So far I’ve not had a single thing said to me. No-one on my back, no frantic ‘phone calls, nothing. They are so relaxed that yesterday, after I’d been off all day, I was about to leave the yard in my truck when I noticed I still had the truck keys from the night before. No-one had said anything. I drove around and handed them in, the guy said “Oh, yes. I was going to ask you about them.” Anyway, it’s all good. Apart from the fact that it’s the whole of my life at the minute. I’m either working, asleep, or bog-eyed, wishing I was asleep. That should change when I adjust to sleeping in the day. At the moment I ain’t nothing but tired, to borrow from Mr Springsteen. Still, it’s what I signed up for, and it’s better than what I expected. The first week was 4 days working and the 4½ hour induction. Which is to say, 4½ hours day rate, 3 shifts Mon-Fri night rate, and 1 shift Saturday night rate. 38 hours in total. Friday was the test of my snake-oil charlatan accountants. They came through.  I earned £486.23 , paid the accountants £23.28, paid my N.I., PAYE, and Corporation tax and still came out with £426.10 Gotta love the slimy weasels. I did some working out (but got the pay rates wrong) and thought that would put me on about £40k (for 48 weeks, 48 hours per week) it’s actually £33.5k. Bah. Penury. The thing to remember though is that when I was busting my balls in de-kit, or freezing my arse off order picking in –28C, I was on £18.2K, taking home £290 per week.When I get to the proper pay rate (another 10 weeks) I’ll be taking home about £631 per week. It’s not a direct comparison as I’m doing another day’s worth of hours nowadays, but on the other hand my old job was so hard I didn’t have it in me to do any extra hours. Also, I’m assuming that as weekly pay, but if I take 4 weeks holiday a year (no pay) then it averages at about £583 per week.  Anyway, that’s all back-of-fag-packet calculations based on one week’s pay. Guideline at best. My point is; I spent all that money and went through the ordeal of lessons, tests, and the horror of gaining experience for a better paid, easier job. I’ve finally got it. By this time next year we should be minted. We’ve got that piss-take tax bill to pay off, then another £1,500 to pay the tax man in June or July, but that is actually forced savings. I was only self-employed for 8 months last year, I’ll have paid £3k towards the […]