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Well, I have a stack of emails to write and apologies to everybody. I will get around to them in turn, but don't expect too much too soon. Yesterday, my third day, I was wrecked. My stomach felt bad, looking at food make me feel like vomiting (not good when you're in a place producing the stuff) and it was all I could do to force some milky Golden Grahams down me because I knew I'd need some sugar in me to get me through the shift. Parts of me I didn't know existed hurt like hell. I am so dozy that I don't feel myself any more. I am going to write this, and force myself to watch the DVD of "PomPoko" (has to go back to the library tomorrow) and then I will probably go to bed. I want my life back. At least as a Care Assistant I could have a life outside of working...
In fact, if the Hadron Day was somewhat less than a Halcyon Day, I doubt I'd have noticed. Not that it would have mattered if we all vanished in a microsecond (ahem, red-tops, you really ought to panich when the thing is switched on in both directions, at the moment it is just like an extreme rollercoaster for particles).
So I was thinking, in amid counting down the time until my shift was over, that a job needs to have some sort of enjoyment to it. You need to like your job, or feel a sense of achievement, or like you are doing something useful. I'm afraid I miss on all of those points. I'm not exhaggerating when I tell you it is bloody awful. At least I only have three months of this to do, instead of four.
I was under the impression that it was a fortnight on earlies and a fortnight late. Well, actually it is weekly. So I'll never feel 'quite right' until coming on to the end of the year.
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Last read at 18:37 on 2020/09/27.
© 2008 Rick Murray
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