I see your spell check is on top form! 

[Reporting Team Note: Baffled? Unlike his vileness we did do a smell check on the version that got published in SSI, the original version looked like this:-

 

I suppose a trite reply would involve phrases like "count your lucky stars", "roof over your head", "at least you've got a job" etc, etc. but they don't really help when you're pissed off with what (or whom) you're doing.  I don't know.... sometimes the wee-small-hours-thinking can solve the problems of the world and at other times they just get bigger and bigger. 

 

I think I must be really lucky having a job that I enjoy even though there are days when I wonder why I spend most of my waking life solving other people's problems.  Now that it looks as though I'm not going to be able to continue what I have been doing I realise how much I'm going to miss it, but there is no way I can lift equipment and patients anymore. I don't think I could stand being stuck at a desk all day. 

 

Why a weekend of doom?  How would your status change? I thought you moved to SI to get away from the ratrace and stress, don't sound much like it from here.

 

We went to the Fox and Goose for a business lunch with one of Ginormous Ulster's colleagues.  Sort of fat bloaty feeling now.  I knew I should've passed on the sweet, thank heaven for elastic waist bands!  But twas a wonderful meal. Think we'll probably forego the 4 course dinner this evening.

Wasn't on-line when I writ it so shaved it as draft but forgot to smellcheck it before sending later! Any way you seem to have got the gist of it.

 

Doomladen weekend came to pass as I feared. We were short-staffed and it was deadly busy. Worked all of it including Saturday night with just a 16 year old KP (one week's experience) under his belt. Boy, he learned some new words and phrases that night.

 

Status is still pending but as you correctly divined I did not come down to Cornwallshire to live like that. I was far less stressed and better paid back on the IoM. So, something's got to give.

 

Will still be under the cosh for the next few weeks so further communication will probably be sporadic (wildly incoherent and chronically depressed!).

 

Aux barricades!

Sounds like men-in-white-coats time.  Even the saintly Winwaloe would have blown a gasket in those circumstances, unless it was one of the temptations on his road to canonisation. Why so short-staffed?

 

I would have thought that in this day and age a 16 year old youf with any street cred would have as colourful a vocabulary as your good self, perhaps even more-so. Or were you referring to technical cuisine terminology?

 

Under the cosh?  How so?  Not into SM are you? I was beginning to wonder whether I'd overstepped the mark but then thought 'Oh, what the hell. If he can' stand the heat......'  Sounds as though not much will change except the frequency of communications!  Hang in there.

 

I've got some men coming tomorrow....to start work on renovating the garden. Shall have to get a sedative for CM, to his chagrin he is not particularly macho when it comes to loud noises and strangers.

No, I'm not ignoring you it's just that it's work, work, work. On a brekky split today. Eight hours done only another five to go! My feet are throbbing alarmingly and my back has gone into stratospheric heights of stiffness. I think I must need a spinectomy.

 

No doubt we shall commune again if I ever regain my liberty and/or sanity.

Think again - after a spinectomy you would be a spineless being not dissimilar to a slug!  (Beware hodgepigs eat slugs) What you really need (apart from a holiday and more social hours) is a bit of good old-fashioned British Backbone, wot put the "Great" in Great Britain. 

 

Peppermint oil in warm water is brilliant for achy-brakey feet, a good soak and you can almost hear the little pinkies going "aaaaaahh"

 

Made Janet's "all-in-one" salad yesterday. Don't know if you've ever been treated to it?  Single-platedly it doubles the prospect of global warming. Bit heavy on the garlic which is no prob. to me stuck here at home but BM flew to Edinburgh this a.m. for a meeting with prospective clients.  Hope he's taken some parsley and/or mints with him.  It was still dark when he left, I was less compis mentis (have I spelled it rite this time?) than usual so I didn't remind him.

 

Remember -  All work and no play makes Paul a dull (/grumpy/depressed) "boy"!  ("boy" always conjures up a mental picture of someone in short grey skool trousers - hard to imagine in your case what with the bread and lack of tousled locks.)

 

Is it skool today?  Have your fellow students benefited from their enrichment week apart from the duty frees? 

But, as you know, I am not dissimilar to a slug! Luckily the Sonics dine only off hula hoops (you have to have seen their videogames to get this one) and wouldn't even touch me with someone else's pole!

 

Haven't got any peppermint oil or a bath so It's back to hanging upside down from the ceiling, I'm afraid.

 

Yes, it was back to the (School of) Mines today. Don't know what the duty-freers had been up to 'enriching' themselves, I try to avoid them (especially on full moons)!

 

PS. I know I haven't got any tousled locks but how do you know I haven't got any bread? Have you been looking in my fridge?

 

PPS. It's compos mentis.

BM suggests that a spinectomy would make your nom de plume appropriate.

 

Even if you did have any, I wouldn't recommend putting it in the bath (assuming you had one of those as well - oh what it is to be modern) it shouldn't be used on sensitive skin, the thought brings tears to your eyes.

 

Mock ye not.

 

Eye can knot sea why the smell cheque dint let me no that I had miss spelt "beard".  What is moor, why do you putt yaw beard in thee fridge?  I thought it was a reel won, knot won that you take off at nite.  Is it sum sought of a dice guy?

 

PS  Thanks, never did get Latin, max C- for my homework.

 

PPS My Inglish isn't up to much either.

 

BM was going to take me to France for my burpday but not much point in my condition.  Will delay it until I can move more freely.

Quite true. There is none viler or more jelly-like than I.

 

My beard is sustained when not in use by growing on cheeses I have forgotten about in the aforementioned frij. Hence the rather distinctive stench with which I am commonly associated.

 

PS. I wouldn't bother with France if I were you. Or, at least, not until they have booted the french out and populated the country with humans!