Dribble Joy
30-11-09, 21:20
I don't prattle on about my life like I used to, mainly because my life is generally not as interesting as it has been in the past.
The last few days however have been somewhat more fun.
Thursday:
Worked at the bar, got home at about 3am. Absent-mindedly stayed up watching cartoons and reading comics. Went to bed at 8am.
Friday:
I had hoped to go into town, see if I could see some of my mates at the GW shop and maybe do some painting.
Alas I got out of bed at 5pm, after the sun had gone down. Too late to go out and do stuff and felt like doing nothing since it was dark.
A non-day. Managed to get to sleep at about 4am after being up for only 11 hours.
Saturday:
Thought I would wake up at about 1pm. Thought I missed my alarm and jumped out of bed to discover it was only about 10, with less than 6 hours sleep I staggered downstairs to make a cup of tea.
Post included two letters. The distinctive markings of the local council on them.
The first was a form to fill in regarding my change in circumstances. I didn't have any, so I opened the other.
It was to inform me that my housing benefit was to be cancelled, after they had been given information regarding a change in my income.
My income is allways changing as the number of hours I work allways changes, but I don't go above the amount I can do on Jobseekers, so there shouldn't be a problem; onwards I read.
Apparently, the council thinks I earn £999 a week. I can assure you I don't. Being a suspicious number itself, I plan to go to their offices and talk at them in a thoroughly stiff British manner.
I have work at 1pm the next day so I set my alarm for 11am and go to bed at 3am.
Sunday:
Jumped out of bed thinking I had missed my alarm, to realise it was 9am, with less than 6 hours sleep I staggered downstairs to make a cup of tea.
At about 12:30pm I turn off my comp and get out the ironing board to iron my shirt for work. I plug in the iron and discover in the few seconds it took me to come downstairs my electricity had been cut off. Flicking switches in the cellar does nothing to resolve the situation.
About a month ago, my housemate moved out, cancelling all the bills. I had forgot to get a new contract.
My mobile's battery is shot and a call will only last a few seconds before it dies, so I have to talk with it plugged in. But I have no power.
The house phone is via the cable connection and the batteries in the handset are shot anyway, after sitting in a box for two years before I got it out when my housemate took his one. I have some spare AAA batteries, but the ones in the phone are purpose made AAAs that are slightly shorter with a longer pin on the + terminal, so mine won't fit.
I also can't use the internet to get a phone number to call a gas/electricity company.
The only thing that isn't a crinkled mess is the t-shirt I am wearing at the time, so with my charger and my normal work shirt I go to the bar.
The t-shirt I am wearing is fine though.
We expect it to be busy, as we are showing the Liverpool - Everton match and the Arsenal - Chelsea one. The pub is the town's Gunners venue, that one will be a nightmare.
Plus the town Crimbo lights are being turned on at 5pm.
Hardly anyone turns up. For anything.
At 8pm the Uni Kung Fu club turns up for their Crimbo party in the event room upstairs. All 52 of them (two didn't come).
Much running up and down stairs with hot food since the lift is broken.
They are expected to leave at about 12am, so we can clean up and go at 1am.
We leave at about 3am.
With no lights at home, and no electricity to light the dodgy boiler, I go to bed, rather knackered anyway.
Monday:
For the first time in several days I get a good amount of sleep and get out of bed at about 2pm.
I stagger downstairs and realise the kettle won't work for my tea.
One advantage of being a smoker - You allways have a lighter on you.
Good for lighting the hob when the sparker doesn't work.
Tea drunk I wander into town, put munnies into bank and credit card and go to the other wargames shop in town to see Rob and ask if I can use his computer to get a number and plug to call them.
Phone npower to discover they don't do the house, but give me a number for Southern. Phone them but run out of credit while on hold.
Top up and phone again, spending a quarter of an hour listening to french jazz and odd deep south ballards, for them to inform me that they haven't actually cut me off.
After a bit we surmise that a main fuse has broken, since that would case the main switch to flick back to off when you turn it to on, which is what happened the day before.
All of which cost me about £5.50 in credit.
Rob informs me that I should buy a torch, rather than use a lighter to inspect the box again.
I go to Wilcos, grumbling at the thought of wasting more munnie, I am pleased to find a small, El Cheapo, 75p torch.
At home, I use it to look at the fuse box, and out of curiousity I flick the switch.
It stays up.
The light comes on.
The fridge starts up.
The answer machine makes noises.
And I realise I have forgotten to go to the council.
The last few days however have been somewhat more fun.
Thursday:
Worked at the bar, got home at about 3am. Absent-mindedly stayed up watching cartoons and reading comics. Went to bed at 8am.
Friday:
I had hoped to go into town, see if I could see some of my mates at the GW shop and maybe do some painting.
Alas I got out of bed at 5pm, after the sun had gone down. Too late to go out and do stuff and felt like doing nothing since it was dark.
A non-day. Managed to get to sleep at about 4am after being up for only 11 hours.
Saturday:
Thought I would wake up at about 1pm. Thought I missed my alarm and jumped out of bed to discover it was only about 10, with less than 6 hours sleep I staggered downstairs to make a cup of tea.
Post included two letters. The distinctive markings of the local council on them.
The first was a form to fill in regarding my change in circumstances. I didn't have any, so I opened the other.
It was to inform me that my housing benefit was to be cancelled, after they had been given information regarding a change in my income.
My income is allways changing as the number of hours I work allways changes, but I don't go above the amount I can do on Jobseekers, so there shouldn't be a problem; onwards I read.
Apparently, the council thinks I earn £999 a week. I can assure you I don't. Being a suspicious number itself, I plan to go to their offices and talk at them in a thoroughly stiff British manner.
I have work at 1pm the next day so I set my alarm for 11am and go to bed at 3am.
Sunday:
Jumped out of bed thinking I had missed my alarm, to realise it was 9am, with less than 6 hours sleep I staggered downstairs to make a cup of tea.
At about 12:30pm I turn off my comp and get out the ironing board to iron my shirt for work. I plug in the iron and discover in the few seconds it took me to come downstairs my electricity had been cut off. Flicking switches in the cellar does nothing to resolve the situation.
About a month ago, my housemate moved out, cancelling all the bills. I had forgot to get a new contract.
My mobile's battery is shot and a call will only last a few seconds before it dies, so I have to talk with it plugged in. But I have no power.
The house phone is via the cable connection and the batteries in the handset are shot anyway, after sitting in a box for two years before I got it out when my housemate took his one. I have some spare AAA batteries, but the ones in the phone are purpose made AAAs that are slightly shorter with a longer pin on the + terminal, so mine won't fit.
I also can't use the internet to get a phone number to call a gas/electricity company.
The only thing that isn't a crinkled mess is the t-shirt I am wearing at the time, so with my charger and my normal work shirt I go to the bar.
The t-shirt I am wearing is fine though.
We expect it to be busy, as we are showing the Liverpool - Everton match and the Arsenal - Chelsea one. The pub is the town's Gunners venue, that one will be a nightmare.
Plus the town Crimbo lights are being turned on at 5pm.
Hardly anyone turns up. For anything.
At 8pm the Uni Kung Fu club turns up for their Crimbo party in the event room upstairs. All 52 of them (two didn't come).
Much running up and down stairs with hot food since the lift is broken.
They are expected to leave at about 12am, so we can clean up and go at 1am.
We leave at about 3am.
With no lights at home, and no electricity to light the dodgy boiler, I go to bed, rather knackered anyway.
Monday:
For the first time in several days I get a good amount of sleep and get out of bed at about 2pm.
I stagger downstairs and realise the kettle won't work for my tea.
One advantage of being a smoker - You allways have a lighter on you.
Good for lighting the hob when the sparker doesn't work.
Tea drunk I wander into town, put munnies into bank and credit card and go to the other wargames shop in town to see Rob and ask if I can use his computer to get a number and plug to call them.
Phone npower to discover they don't do the house, but give me a number for Southern. Phone them but run out of credit while on hold.
Top up and phone again, spending a quarter of an hour listening to french jazz and odd deep south ballards, for them to inform me that they haven't actually cut me off.
After a bit we surmise that a main fuse has broken, since that would case the main switch to flick back to off when you turn it to on, which is what happened the day before.
All of which cost me about £5.50 in credit.
Rob informs me that I should buy a torch, rather than use a lighter to inspect the box again.
I go to Wilcos, grumbling at the thought of wasting more munnie, I am pleased to find a small, El Cheapo, 75p torch.
At home, I use it to look at the fuse box, and out of curiousity I flick the switch.
It stays up.
The light comes on.
The fridge starts up.
The answer machine makes noises.
And I realise I have forgotten to go to the council.