I wouldn’t say I’m anti-Royal, I quite like them, really. They don’t bother me. It’s just that if Prince Harry got married to Meghan on a weekday, and this day was made into a Bank Holiday, then I’d be all other their celebrations. I’d be WOOP WOOP WEDDING!!!!
(I am often inappropriate in church)
But alas, they got married on a weekend, they only extended pub hours, and with all that Merkle-family business, it was all a bit much. It all got, who gives a flying crap? ‘Cause I don’t. I might have, had I directly benefited, but we’re here today with the only crap I give is me saying I don’t give any.
Furthermore, I preferred Prince Harry single.
So I set out on this weekend knowing I had to avoid the media. I knew the BBC was live from Windsor from 630am, and that they weren’t going to shut up afterwards. Websites and the like all had to be avoided. My daily intake of news, my monitoring of Kilauea (which looks totally amazing), that plane crash in Havana (I want to know more), all suspended. All these things I need to know, suspended because all I’d find out is wedding news.
Saturday, I went to visit Granny’s old house but found her not in ’cause she’s dead and don’t live there, so ended up at the beach with Jackie.
I did find myself ‘watching’ the highlights of the wedding on BBC 2. In my defence, I’d turned over to watch Dad’s Army. In the process of watching Dad’s Army, I got waylaid by something on the computer. Dad’s Army finished and I was an hour in before I realised.
Sunday, I didn’t drive at all.
Driving day 14 — a no driving day
I sat at home and watched Scandal. I also had a Hawaii 5-0 to watch, and a Designated Survivor. I put a Columbo on because I had chores to do and I do chores to Columbo. I actually sit down and watch Columbo and think I need to get started. Columbo finishes and I’m like, DAMN! I got to put another Columbo on. Chores don’t always get done. This week, though, they did. I put on some rather shit movie that got me motivated.
And that brings me neatly to today.
Today is the first day of my holiday.
Unfortunately, I thought my holiday started next week so I went to work. A colleague is off sick. I may have to postpone my holiday.
The thing is, I’ve been really wanting this leave from work. I started helping out at the factory in January part-time but due to this and that, tended to work nearer full-time, having only my afternoon with Myles and driving lesson free per week. Oh, and of course my commutes. Then, after Newcastle, I thought I’d have a few days free but due to sickness, that wasn’t to be. And since then I’m full time. This all would be fine had I not really wanted my leave. Needed my leave. Craved it. It’s the one thing I’ve been missing, my chance to be.
I know how it feels to be repetitively sick from work, Portsmouth Water got that from me, unfortunately. To cure my sickness, I found that I need to be me. I needed to find out who I am. Be someone. Breathe. I needed to achieve my checklist. I needed to be in a position of self-motivation. I’ve got to convince me that I know me, that I’m working for the same side. I need my time, this time to negotiate.
These days, I’ve realised how my repetitive sickness affected the Portsmouth Water team. With me away there’s one whole body of work not getting done, that needs to get done, that gets allocated to other colleagues. An additional workload is fine for a while without benefit, but soon enough resentment grows because additional workloads have their own weight.
Because I am human with needs and selfish, I have been told that I should be sympathetic to their sickness — I have been absent like them, I have also been told, too — but the difference is now, I am myself sick and their sickness affects me. I can’t take my medicine and be because they are sick, and they are always sick, and here I am some days buzzing off sick pills. It reminds me of what I did when I had a rolling doctor’s note, I handed in my notice. I had to get myself better before I could do anything else. I didn’t really have a choice. I couldn’t keep dangling hope like a carrot before my colleague’s eyes because their resentment can only hurt me.
In my head, it feels like I’ve pressed pause. It feels like everything I was working towards has a pin in it, hanging around on the noticeboard. It feels like it always felt, like I’ve parked my backside down on the road. Traffic passing by me and there I am sat counting my toes.
Speaking of roads,
In driving news:
I had another near head-on today, this time some twat in a blue car heading in the wrong direction for his chosen side of the road. I was left without doubt that this near head-on was all my fault. The abuse I got made me want to applaud because he knew vocabulary.
Shit, is that the time?
So overall, this has been a weekend not in my benefit. And when I could’ve benefited myself (namely, remember when my holiday started), I didn’t.
Since I’ve found out not too long ago that they’re off for another 2 weeks, I may as well postpone my holiday. I’m not happy about it but if I took my leave, I’d feel guilty, and that isn’t fair. I haven’t done what I’ve done without question to feel that way inclined. Besides, feeling guilty for a week will fuck the whole purpose. I feel owed this leave, I’ve earned my right to enjoy it.
Next week is a bank holiday, the week after I’ve got my birthday off, and then a week later I’m in Amsterdam for 2 days, so I suppose that will all just have to do. None of it is leave, though. It’s not me getting a little more than a minute to unpause.