A day in the life…

I suppose it’s my own fault, for thinking life would get easier. After working 11 of the last 12 days (and nearly going mental in the process), I slept through until 10.30 this morning. This was unfortunate, given my need to get to the gym and phone the council. A shower perked me up and I decided to phone the council while the coffee was brewing. Schoolboy error! After being on hold I got a woman who could only be described as a tube. Needless to say, a tube was more than qualified to outsmart my decaffeinated mind and, not only am I still getting screwed for the council tax, they now have my bank details. Shite.

The next obstacle proved to be my post-coffee, err… ablutions. I had run out of lavvy paper! Argh! Shower number two of the day completed, I decided to go to the gym and work off my aggression. Needless to say, the shop en route was closed (no lavvy paper for me) and I got soaked in the rain. I was so wet that it wasn’t until I arrived at the gyn that I discovered one of my water bottles had leaked, depriving me of 700ml of hydration and soaking my gear.

It was inevitable that I would drop and spill the other bottle in the gym and, of course, it happened in the presence of both an attractive woman and a prick from my work (C*lt*c top, et al). Thoroughly disheartened, I got soaked again on the way home, but not until the now open shop had deprived me of £1.50 for two toilet rolls! I seethed all the way through shower number three.

Leave it to The Legend to show up and make things better. I had helped The Legend clear up 18 bags worth of rubbish from The Legend‘s previous dwelling on Wednesday and, rather than leave the bags for the fucking council to maybe pick up (but definitely charge The Legend for), I suggested we pick them up on Friday and take them to the dump. The Legend was especially nippy, due to The Legend‘s tight schedule, due to The Legend going to the leaving night of a colleague everyone (including The Legend) despises.

Anyway, upon arrival at the cowp, it was clear The Legend had no idea where we were going and, after I asked someone, we discovered that the facility was closed, leaving myself and The Legend with 18 bags of very smelly refuse (The Legend had an unfortunate encounter with two month old milk in a bag on Wednesday) in the car. The Legend then unwisely suggested a ninja-style operation around the wheely-bins of Galashiels before the chap from the dump noticed that some employees from the fucking council were still dumping bags in a skip. Without warning, The Legend roared in through the gate and we managed to deposit all of the bags before the workers from the fucking council shut us in the cowp overnight. Overnight, at a rubbish tip, with The Legend. Can you imagine?

So here I am, after shower number four removed the sweat and stale refuse smell, dear reader, telling the tale. Meanwhile, The Legend is out getting blootered, having decided not to shower before going out. The reason? I’ll leave it to The Legend to explain;

“Cause I hate that bitch, I hope she can smell ma plums!”


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