Finally got a weekend off. It’s been six weeks since my last proper one. (My last actual one, three weeks ago, I was dying with that cold and had the sinus pain issues. I would have preferred to have been working and well, than off and in that state.) I had lots of vague plans about what I was going to do, i.e. gardening and generally pottery about having a good time. Not a bleeding bit of it. I had a few chores to do; shopping, nipping to town to the bank (while I was there I wanted to nip to Wilkinson’s to spend my £10 voucher that I got off Iceland for Xmas on lovely plants), and nip my sisters to drop off a (day late) card for her youngest. I went to do the shopping at about half past ten. Half past ten, mind you. Not dinner time, not after work on a Friday, not Saturday or Sunday. Half past ten on a week day. It was chocker. Every doddering idiot, coffin dodger, and work-shy chav was in Asda. Why? They were out in force, all determined to stroll around and stop and chat in the middle of the narrowest isles, blocking my passage (ooer, Mrs.!). Don’t let my attempts to shop interrupt your conversation you bovine, slack-jawed, ignorant, embodiment of the argument for compulsory euthanasia. So that went well. Then there was the ‘nip’ to town. Some fool in the council has decided it would be a fun idea to block of one of the main roads through Warrington. The joy just keeps coming. It had a knock-on effect of stopping dead all the roads that stray vaguely near the closed one. So I aborted the card dropping off mission. I got home to find a letter on my mat from some debt collection agency saying I owe them £80. Apparently the DVLA had passed them the bill for collection after I had repeatedly ignored their letters about registering my Bandit. The last time I did the paperwork for the Bandit I informed them that it was SORN, and that I had moved address. Sorn declarations are free, but only when the DVLA send the damn reminder to the right address. Oh yes indeed, that lifted my mood still further. I ran upstairs, went online to the thrice damned DVLA, and their website says ‘when changing address you have to send your registration document back to have the address changed.’ I changed my license details (with the DVLA. A pox on them) and assumed that all my driving details would be updated. Or at least that they would have the wit to check if my license details had changed before hitting me with an £80 bill and handing it over to a debt recovery agency. Especially as SORN is free. A curse on the DVLA and all who sail on her. When the rage had subsided, after I’d had time to realise they had me and all […]
Continue readingTag: Employment
…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 readingThe old ball and chain
Well I’m back at work these past two days. That was rough, going back and trying to graft, not sure if I would be able to make it through the shift or not. Still, I did. They all thought I’d got a driving job and was ‘phoning in sick, presumably to give the job a go. No such luck. Besides, as I have told them on many occasions, I am waiting until I pass my artic, and then trying to get a job at our place before looking for jobs further afield. I’ve not managed to go to Taekwondo for about a month now. I missed the lessons on the week before my grading, and consequently the grading, and every time I thought I had a chance to go I’ve started feeling ill. I’ve certainly not been up to it since last Wednesday when my latest evil cold struck. I had thought to go tomorrow as I’m off and all, but Wendy was a bit put out. Apparently not only do I have to go to the hassle of going up town to the registry office tomorrow, but on wedding days it would appear one traditionally does not go to ones TKD club in the evening. Bloody weddings. Last time for me I tell you. Way too much hassle, and you can’t get to your club. You should be able to do it on the internet. You can get a Thai bride mailed to you no problem, but you have to go to town to get married. On the bright side, it is just the once, and it will be nice to see Jo (whom I’ve not seen in years) and generally get it over with. It’s a shame Wendy couldn’t have hung in there another year, as it turns out she did want a big fuss after all. In a year we should both be bringing in relatively big bucks and therefore we could have made an event out of this. If that’s what she wanted though it would have helped if (1), she’d have mentioned it, and (2), like I say, waited a bit longer until we had the cash to do something about it. Still ‘we are where we are’, as an infamous war-criminal once said (yes, you, bLIAR). I’m not bothered, me. But if it would have made Wendy a happy bunny, that is the way I would have liked to have gone. And if I can’t go to my club tomorrow at least we have two episodes of ‘Heroes’ to catch up on. I’m tired, I was having disturbing werewolf dreams last night, based around the character in ‘Being Human’ (the rather excellent series that ended on Sunday). Right, quick shower and bed. Hard days getting wed tomorrow. Later, Buck.
Continue readingCars suck bottom
Hi ya’ll, I’ve got to go for an appraisal drive and arrange to do the training with the Institute of Advanced Motorists tomorrow, so I’ve spent the last few days ‘pimping’ my Micra. I’ve serviced it; oil, oil filter, air filter and spark plugs (which I’ve already done once in the three years I’ve had it. Talk about overkill!) I’ve put air in the tyres, washed the damned thing, (which I did in 2007) and put the rear-view mirror back up. I had taken it off to get used to using my wing mirrors for my truck training. It says in the literature for IAM that you must have at least two mirrors fitted, one of which must be inside the car. I was thinking of trying to get away with taking it literally ( I had two wing mirrors fitted, and one internal mirror, just it was in the glove compartment) but thought it was probably not wise to start off on that note. Now then, when I first started my truck training I just turned the rear-view mirror around, but one time it just popped off in my hand. Thought no more of it, just stuck it in the glove compartment. So today I had a bit of a flap when after freezing my hands off washing the mighty Micra off with a hosepipe (and proving the adage ‘you can’t polish a turd’) I couldn’t find the mirror. It wasn’t in the glove compartment. It wasn’t there, Richard! (Virgin complaint letter reference there. How funny was that letter?) Anywho, after taking the tapes out three times, checking under the seats, in the boot and asking Wendy if she’d had it off it still wasn’t there. In desperation I took to fumbling around above the compartment, and there it was! Job’s a good ‘un. Just pop it back on like…, hmm, really stiff. Shove a little harder…, ‘CRACK’! The windscreen had cracked. Boundless joy. So I rang Autoglass for a quote, as their advert says they can repair or replace. Repair, cheaply please. Nope, that’s for chips. Cracks are a new windscreen which leaves you paying the £75 excess on your insurance. I said "hold on a minute, how much is the windscreen? I don’t want to lose my no claims bonus." "£405." "Screw that. The insurance can sort it." So I was less than happy. Wendy, who has come down with a virulent form of Woman-flu, was a tad grumpy. "What you should have done was just black the mirror out" "Hindsight is 20/20. You learn from your mistakes." "You should be brilliant then." Very droll. She’d better watch she doesn’t ‘fall’ down the stairs again! (Joke!) So the pimped Buck-mobile is going to roll up to the IAM place tomorrow with a cracked windscreen. Bleeding marvellous. What else of note has transpired? Well, the word at work is that the new manager of our depot wants to turf De-Kit out and replace us with agency workers. We […]
Continue readingJam tomorrow
I remember! I sat down to update my blog yesterday with the intention of setting down the running tally for this bleeding driving malarkey. To get my class C (rigid/ class 2) license it cost me £2,163! Two thousand, one hundred and sixty three of Her Majesty’s pounds! The original course (20 hours driving and a test, with medical, theory test and paperwork) was £849. I’ve just paid out another £99 for this IAM course. So the running tally is £2,262. I think I’ll wait until I’ve finished and passed my Advanced Motorist course before I go in for the C+E (artic/ class 1) course. If I could pass that first time it would ‘only’ be about another £850. Then I might need a digital tachometer course, a mere £35, and I would like an ADR course (hazardous materials handling course) which is about £500. So, best case would be about £3,500. The word from the drivers at work is that Eddie Stobbarts pay their artic drivers less than £8 per hour! However, get my C+E, get any driving job for the experience, then look (with the ADR certificate, which is valid for five years) for a job as a petrol tanker driver. This is the game plan. I have printed off an advert from jobcentre plus. It’s for C+E driver, experience not essential, with ADR certificate for tankers. Agency work for six months, but it is £14.80 – £15.93 an hour! I’ll have a slice of that pie, thank you very much. I’m keeping the advert, and when I have the licenses, the ADR, and preferably a bit of experience with any artic I’ll be pestering them. Even if it is only a temporary contract with an agency, once I’ve got tanker experience on my CV, I’ll be pestering all the firms. I’m fair sure that at the end of that strike last year the government caved in and made it possible for the drivers to have big pay rises. I think the unions were saying it would put their members on £38,000 p.a., but the employers were saying it was more like £45,000. There are a bunch of oil refineries dotted all around here. Ellesmere port and Liverpool are both within commuting distance. For that kind of cash the Scottish off-shore oil fields are commutable. Then maybe get my license for helicopters. How hard can it be? Bike, car, truck. Damn, missed a trick there, if only I’d have taken my cycling proficiency. So that was one thing; setting up a running tally, and desperately hoping I can get a job that will pay for all the debt into which the training is putting us. What else? Well, I’ve been off for my long weekend (Friday, Saturday, Sunday). It comes around every three weeks, but with the six day working it is the first I’ve had in ages. Thoroughly enjoyed it. We nipped around Wendy’s brothers’ yesterday (Addo, on ‘my friends’). Wendy was talking to the Beth (Black […]
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