THE GOOD BUCK

Right, I’m going to try and catch up. This could be quite a long entry. I’m going to omit the stuff on the Palestinian holocaust because it’s to awful. If you want to see pictures of babies blown in half, well, you need help.

And straight away I’m going to post something. Just in case you thought the “war” was an isolated incident. The percentage of Palestine that Israel occupied from 1947 to now, as translated to the UK.

And this, while it’s about the Israeli genocide of Palestinians, could be about anything and is my favourite banner of all time.

Just a quick update.

I went to the induction for my new job. 3 hours of signing off on papers you haven’t read and ticking all the H&S boxes. They have changed the pay structure, 50p per hour more, no overtime rate. Just done a quick calculation, say 52½ hour week, take off ½ hour per day for break, so 50 hours. Old rate, £520, new rate £515. And it used to be more for Saturday, plus time and a third for any overtime, that’s now flat rate as well. Sundays are £14, flat rate.

They wouldn’t have changed it if it didn’t cost them less.

I’ve had enough of nights and the uncertainty of agency work. I’ve applied for the full time, days, job at Hermes. I have my induction on Monday. I did the maths, it’s been exactly half a year and I took home £11,856. If you take off the two weeks I would have had as holidays if I’d been PAYE it’s an average of £420 p/w take home. Hermes are promising a minimum of 45 hours per week, with thing like time and a third for anything over 8 hours, overtime more or less written into the job, extra for working weekend shifts, etc. I reckon on a 50 hour week I’ll be taking home at least the same. Plus it’s days. And I can take holidays. If you lose a week’s pay you just end up working and working. I think I’ve had two weeks holiday in the two and a half years I’ve been self employed/ Limited Company. I’ve had months, in total, sat around unpaid waiting for work, but that isn’t a holiday. You can’t relax, you can’t do anything, plan anything, or afford anything.

If I wanted serious big bucks they have the option of a pound an hour more for nights, plus another pound or so for Limited Company, so you earn more and get stopped less tax, but that’s the same shit I’m in now.

I’m willing to trade pound per hour for day shift and secure hours per week.

I’m using that as a metaphor, btw. I find it fascinating that one cannot remember pain. You remember the sweats, the swearing, thinking death would be a mercy, but you can’t remember what the pain felt like.

So it was with crashing my lovely, lovely motorcycle.

Not the pain (metaphor remember? Pay attention at the back.) but the feeling of being fully alive. I’d forgotten. Or rather remembered as one remembers pain. I took it as a truism, that while “the prospect of being hanged focuses the mind wonderfully” it is nothing like as focusing as the reality of imminent pain and possibly sudden, violent death.

Still loving my bike.

It is bloody lovely. After I’d blogged last time I thought of a few things I should have added. For one thing I do seem to have learned restraint. In the past I’d tootle along until someone was in my way then I’d blast past them. And the one in front of them. I was a Pringle overtaker, once I’d popped I just couldn’t stop. Until Mr Plod had a word or I was picking the remains of my bike up. It was great fun, but not conducive to long periods of safe motorcycling. Anyway, I said about finding the torque-y part of the rev range on the same ride as I came off the motorway a BMW tried to pass me on the inside. I was feeling a bit sporty so I held him off. Then we came up behind an artic (bastard lorry drivers!) and I thought “let’s see you do this, sunshine”, I could have blasted down the separation zone, the foot or so wide bit painted down the middle to keep the traffic apart. This would have left me with millimetres to spare if a lorry had turned up the other way. This would not have even been a consideration before, I would have shot past and any potential oncoming traffic would have to make way or kill me.

I di the unthinkable; I dropped off the revs and sat behind the lorry! Nothing came the other way, so I could have done it, but strangely I didn’t care.