Where I work we have a scheme where you can sign up for things for a year or more. You can buy a new laptop, then it would be paid for by taking the monthy payments out of your salary.
This had been going on for something like three years. The first year I had gym membership. I had been going for about 4 months, and didn’t see any weight loss benefits whatsoever. I stopped going because of my diabetes diagnosis. Then I stopped the membership. I wasn’t going, so why have it?
I think, the next time the benefits thing comes around, I’m going to go for the gym membership again. I’m nore than ready for it. I want to go to the gym, I really do.
Now I’m comfortable with my diabetes, it’s only right that I go back.
In a little more than 5 weeks I’m off on my holiday to Spain, the same thing I have done for the last 4 years. It’s useful in that it allows me to relax, which all good holidays should do. I’m not one who does the sightseeing malarkey, I just want to chill out.
I really need it this time. I’m exhausted. Ever since Christmas I’ve been on the work treadmill, and the strain is beginning to show. I need the break. I go in to work every 2 weekends out of 3, in an industry that gets loads of weekend work, but the rest of the organisation works from Monday to Friday.
I’m not bitter abou this; it just makes the job much harder. I remember a manager saying one time, saying that the weekend work is no different to the weekday work, and quite correctly, he was shouted down by all off us minions working in the trenches.
Every day I have off I have to have a snooze to relax. I suppose it may be a sign that I’m getting older, but I need that sleep. It does me a world of good. Aren’t power naps supposed to be healthy for you?
Anyway, I need this holiday. Oh, I’ve mentioned that before. But it’s true.
I’m now only a couple of hours towards the end of my 1 week block leave from work.
I’m sure I’ve explained this before, but here we go. We get given a rota in aroubnd bout mid February listing the hours we work over the next 364 days. Built in to the rota are 3 weeks, which you let the rota people know about, which you want to have off and when. These weeks are your weeks and you cannot be called in to work during those weeks. You can take these weeks altogether and have a nice long holiday, or you can do like I do, where you book the weeks so it co-incides with the holidays abroad that you’ve already booked.
Anywho, my week was spent relaxing, and basically gettinbg some eating habits back to normal again, after the eating fest that was Christmas. I did wrong this Christmas, compared to last, where I overate just a tad (well, okay then, quite a lot). My weekly weigh-in this morning, showed I’d lost close to 2kg, so I’m where I want to be at this stage of the year. Who said that doing nothing is bad for you?!
One of the highlights was undoubtedly a trip to see the mighty Etihad Stadium with my Dad. Over dinner on Boxing Day, he asked whether I wanted to go on the Stadium and Museum Tour, which I said yes to quite readily. And quite a good tour it was too. We seemed to have a longer tour: it was supposed to kast 70 minutes, but lasted 2 hours. And it was well worth the money. Now, all I have to do now, is go and watch a match there!
(A bit of personal history here: I’ve been to Maine Road, but only to see a Bryan dams concert when I was 21. I’ve been to Old Trafford, Mnchester United’s ground, but only for a job interview for Barclays. And I’ve been to Old Trafford Cricket Club, but only for a works talk. So all of these places I’ve been to, but not to see any sporting endeavour.)
I expected City to win today. But no, because I’n watching it on television, they lose 2-nil. A bit of a downer for the end of quite a good week off, but there you go. That’s the life of a Manchester City supporter for you.
Yes, it’s well known that I have a Facebook page, and like most people (I suppose), I have friends and family on there from all over the world.
My line of work means that people who use our services may just call back for more service later on. I do that routinely shift in and shift out. It’s not an ideal line of work, but at least it pays well. That’s what keeps me there.
What happened this morning was extremely surreal and completely unexpected.
I get a call from someone wanting to make use of the after-service. Imagine this if you will. Of course you know, it didn’t happen exactly this way. The names and some of the dialogue has been changed to protect just about everybody, I think.
At the start of the call, I realise the caller has an accent, not an English, more Southern African.
Me: Okay, just need to take some details.
Him: Right, here’s the details.
I notice that the name is someone I recognise. While I take the additional information, I wonder whether to ask the next question, and finally decide “To Hell with this, ask the bloomin’ question.”
Me: What’s your first name?
Him: It’s Jim
Me: From South Africa? From <This Particular School>?
Him (suspiously) : Yes
Me: Hello Jim, It’s Threelight!!
We had a laugh and a joke about this one. I had to slip into my professional mode and cut the jovial tone short to go through with him what is involved with the after-service. He ended up not taking it anyway, and we had a laugh and a joke even more before saying goodbye.
He’s been a friend on Facebook since September 2013, when he made contact, thought I was someone else, but when I explained to him the history, we are Facebook friends.
So, I’m speaking to someone who’s now licing in the UK, who went to the same primary school I did, was in the same primary school class as me until we both went to the same high school, but in different classes. I mean I have a picture somewhere where I attended his 10th (or so) birthday!!
Now, I ask you, what are the chances of that happening???!!
Surreal, and weird.
Happy New Year!
If you’re still hung over from the night’s excesses, you should be okay by now. You’ve had nearly a full day to recover.
If, like me, you’ve been at work today with no hangover whatsoever, well, today’s been like a normal day, well, hopefully the year will get better.
I didn’t expect to have a good Chinese meal of beef chow mien with noodles. It was an excellent way to end a day that doesn’t feel like New Years Day one jot.
Thats it. The end of 2014.
Christmas is creeping up slowly this year rather than coming racing like a freight train as it usually does. The former is a lot better I think.
I’m working over the Christmas-New Year week, so I’m unlikely to post anything.
So, without much further ado….
Happy Christmas and a Merry New Year!!!
Seriously folks, have a good one!
It was my birthday on Tuesday: moving inexorably towards mid-40s-dom.
I had a quiet day, which quite frankly is how I like it. I had a normal day, one that involved not going to work (I always take my birthday off as a holiday). i didn’t overdo things, and just chilled out.
I got quite a good present from my brother: “The Complete Calvin & Hobbes”. It has the entire output of Bill Waterson’s comic strip. You know Calvin & Hobbes – the young 8-year old with a toy tiger which becomes his companion and comes to life throughout Calvin’s trials of being an eight year old.
Bill Waterson decided that on 31st December 1995 that that day’s comic strip would be his last. He’s a quiet individual (not a recluse), but he must have felt he’d either had enough, or just took it as far as it would go. I suppose you have to respect him for that.
There’s a movie out that I still have to watch, called “Dear Mr Waterson”, about various fans, famous or otherwise. I may watvh it eventually.
I don’t quite understand the Facebook thing anymore.
I was relaitvely late in getting on, as there were one or two questions I had that were bugging me for ages, mainly on the privacy side. Those were addressed (but not satisfactorily, I may add). And I’ve been on for about 4 years now.
About 3 years ago, I went to a surprise famiy birthday with my brother. A few cousins, the majority of which are/were on Facebook. One of them was at the bar when I went up to get drinks. It wasn’t “hello”, or “how are ya?” it was:
“You’re not on Facebook all that much, are you?”
Apart from being taken aback at how stupid the remark was, I answered the bext way I could:
“I’m on it when I’m on it. I’m not on it all the time.”
That’s my cousin told straight.
The majority of people I know are on Facebook now. There’s a group set up which keeps all the residents in the estate we live in, in contact about such things as crime, and things in general. That’s where Facebook comes into it’s own.
But otherwise, I’m becoming a bit cheesed off with the “suggested posts” which come in every now and then. Like, “Oh, look what this celebrity’s done. OMG!!” and “So this person wrapped his kid up to go to bed. What they did next will make you cry.”
I’m not interested in this type of bumpf. It’s always and still is an advertisers dream.
I should really “de-activiate” my profile, but it keeps me in touch with people I wouldn’t ordinarily be in contact with (like school mates who still live 6000 miles away). It’s addictive too. Even though I hate it, I look on the site every single damn day.
Damn you Zuckerberg. Damn you!!
I’ve ony just realised that it’s the end of October next Friday, and the crazy American pastime called Halloween (where all things scary are celebrated) is coming up, and then Bonfire night (where a failed terrorist attack is celebrated) five days afterwards.
I realise the year is nearly finished, and I’ve not done half the things I wanted to do this year. True, I’m watching my weight, what I’m eating and fairly conscious about things like bood sugar and blood pressure, as a result of my diabetes diagnosis last year. My blood pressure has been steadily on the rise over the last 3 months or so, going down to tolerable levels when I was on holiday. I do my tests every Saturday morning, and, sure enough, after 6 days of the week of being at work on shifts ending at 9pm, my blood pressure is back up to high, but just about safe, levels.
There are three parameters I use: weight, blood pressure and blood sugar. I have a spreadsheet going back to May last year, about 6 weeks after I got the diagnosis. So you could say that can see how well I’m doing. I sometimes surprise my doctor(s) by showing them the figures I’ve collected. Possibly because many people in the area where I live don’t take an interest in how well they’re doing. It’s something I feel I have to do. I mean, I don’t have an illness as serious Swisslet’s MS, but I have to watch what I do all the time.
One of the things I have to look out for is Christmas. I can’t overeat at all. I managed to survive last year by not going to the same place the same as every year. (We go to my Uncle’s house for Christmas Day and Boxing Day, a throwback to when everything and everywhere was closed on Boxing Day). It’s an eating fest. I’m lucky in that the Rota Gods at work have allowed me to have Boxing Day off again this year. At least I’ve got that to be thankful for.
I have things under control, but Christmas always is worrying. Christmas is coming and Threelight may get fat (again).
I have just come back from a holiday in Spain (well, not exactly just back, I came back last Thursday). Since then, I have had three shifts at the helhole I call work. Two of those shifts were over the weekend, which was hell, and today, which was even more hell.
It’s got me thinking though. When the recession was first announced, the previous owners of the business thought it wise, maybe a bit too readily, to close the office where I was, move the work down to another geographical area, and make the people in that office redundant. I had the offer of going to a new department, learning new skills, and generally have a job during the rough times,
Things are beginning to pick up now, I think, and as a result, I’m wondering what to do next. I’m getting restless. I have a job which has the maddest hours ever, and I work two out of every three weekends. It’s a mad job, but it helps pay the bills so to speak.
The thought of spending the rest of working career there fills me with dread like you wouldn’t believe. I mean, I’m no spring chicken, I’m 44 next month, and I know that I may not get a better well-paid job doing something different.
I could change, I am unhappy where I work, but what can I do? Looks like I just have to soldier on.