THE GOOD BUCK

Sorry, that’s a Twitter joke. Apparently two years ago today, at 1620 hrs, Ed Balls did a vanity search. ie, typed his name to see who was talking about him, but being a noob he sent it as a tweet instead of searching it. The tweet was therefore just: “Ed Balls”

For some reason this has gained massive traction as a meme and today is now Ed Balls day. My Twitter timeline was just a mass of Ed Balls today. He even tweeted it again. Bless.

Sorry, that was utterly pointless. A topical subject for my blog post title with no relevance or merit outside of it’s ‘in joke’ milieu. So, a neat metaphor for the internet.

So much for the easy life!

I thought after losing my regular run I would at least have a week off. Maybe struggle for a bit getting work until I found a new job. Nope. On Monday at about 1430hrs, as I was driving to Wales, the agency rang and asked if I could work at 1600 hrs. No.

I didn’t get any work Tuesday. On Wednesday I had gone out for a run, more of which in a minute, when Ceva called me direct (as opposed to ringing the agency) and asked if I could work from 2100hrs. I did. I was about an hour from finishing (about 0730hrs) when the agency rang and asked if I could start at Ceva from 10 o’clock. They had already got me a shift for 0600 hrs Friday so I said I couldn’t do it if they wanted me to do that one. They said ‘but that’s in the morning’. I thought they wanted me to work from 2200hrs, turns out they were asking me to work from 1000hrs! No again.

All was ticking along nicely. I booked Friday off as Wendy’s mam was coming over on the Wednesday to stay with us so I thought I’d take a long weekend.

I had that low-ness a few weeks ago where I felt washed out but I’ve not really had a cold all of this interminable Winter. I woke up on Tuesday morning with a massively dry throat and a blocked nose and thought nothing of it. Woke up on Wednesday after three hours sleep with my nose running and eyes streaming, and couldn’t get back to sleep so I had to ‘phone in sick. You can’t drive until stupid o’clock in the morning if you’ve only had three hours sleep, it would be too dangerous. Then the cold really hit and I felt lousy with it as well, so I was glad I ‘phoned in. Just in time for Wendy’s mam to get here. So that was a great way to say “Welcome to England!”

I was just starting to feel like I might survive the cold on Friday when I got a call from the agency. I’ve been sacked off. The run I’ve been doing (out of the Irlam base) has been moved to Crewe so there’s no job for me.

I’m sat here replete with Chinese and pants undone. Sorry for that mental image. My guts are actually uncomfortable I’m getting that fat again.

Sounds like someone is firing off a shotgun. That’s outside, not my guts. Just thought I’d live blog it in case it turns out to be a bunch of murders.

Anyway, assuming some mofo doesn’t pop a cap in my ass in the badass ghetto that is Great Sankey, I’ll carry on moaning about my fatitude.

Work has sorted itself out in no time. I’ve done two weeks without being cancelled and the hours are plenty long enough. I was running up to Aspatria, top of the Lake District, doing an awkward trailer swap then running back to Crewe, trailer swap, back to Irlam. Now Aspatria have set aside a really easy drop point for my trailer. No reversing, nothing in the way, just drive in, stop and drop. Cool. Obviously the karmic balance is upset by that so to compensate Crewe are getting rid of the night shunter. This means there will be no empty trailers for me to swap with, so I have to wait an hour or so while they live tip me. Ace.

The consequence of that is I’m on a regular 50+ hour week.

Ho hum. It pays the bills.