It was a weird day today, firstly I slept in - never a good start. So that was quickly followed by a rushed coffee and a cigarette accompanied by a lot of shouting to the troops to get their breakfast, get washed and get dressed for school. All of this was accomplished in record time and so I stepped outside to face the day looking worn and interestingly windswept ( on account of the fact that I hadnt time to put on the war paint and dress my hair. So I stood on the doorstep and looked and looked again to my horror it was foggy - and i do mean foggy - not just slightly misty but a damned peasouper, we made our way to the car, identified by the flashing lights when i pressed the button on the key. The car was camoflaged by its hologram silver colour and sat eerily in the fog like a ghost car. So we sat in the car and I put on the heater to demist it, we sat and we sat and we sat and I used the windscreen wipers but the windscreen was not clearing then to my horror i realised that a nasty heavy frost had crept up on us during the night coating the car windscreen with its thick obscured glass effect. So out I got and cleared the bloody thing with a scraper and made a mental note to purchase deicer ASAP.
This is in stark contrast to the evening before when I got in the car and thought the windscreen was smeary and made several attempts to clear it before realising that the smears were on my sunglasses!
Anyway, we were running late and so off we set, me peering through wee demisted holes in the windscreen which allowed a certain amount of vision. All the troops arrived at their respective schools and I set off to work at CRAP.
I joined what passes for a main road in these parts and to my horror a Scottish Motorists worst nightmare was there before me - A tractor! The road is so twisty that you cant overtake anywhere so there I was, already late with Fred the fecking farmer in front of me in his tractor in thick fog. I crawled to work at a snails pace and arrived at CRAP to cries of 'oh you made it then!' and 'Whats the time?' and 'are you late?' Yes, the slave is LATE Quelle surprise! CRAP had ground to a halt, a kind hearted individual made me a coffee and the interrogation over my 'windswept and interesting' appearance began 'Are you ill?'
'No, I am fine thankyou'
'But you dont look fine'
'Whats wrong?'
'Nothing'
'Yes there is, you can tell me'
'OK I didnt have time to put my make up on'
Gasps of horror ensued, apparently working in CRAP it is a crime not to arrive looking like the front cover of vogue and today I was the criminal.
The day plodded on, preparing survey tools, interviewing joe public, manipulating statistics, embellishing reports - you know the drill. Then lunch time arrived 'woohoo time to relax' WRONG, why is it that Joe Public waits till lunchtime before deciding to arrive in droves regardless of appointment times? ( one of lifes yet to be answered mysteries). So yet again I partook of the modern day wonder - the working lunch. My mouth full of tuna salad sandwich as I attempted to sort out the problems of the multitude while eating. The kind hearted soul arrived with another coffee. The afternoon continued like this in between trips to the loo and writing reports for tomorrows meeting . 3.55pm the boss phones to tell me that the meeting tomorrow is cancelled because she is snowed under with reports to write.........( steam emits from my ear holes at this point)- yup the prole from crap has been working like a machine to ensure that everything is ready for the crap meeting and then its cancelled because the boss cant keep up!
At last its time to go home - another adventure in the whacky world of motoring ensues for the journey back to peace and I am left wondering how many other people working in crap have written crap reports that no-one will read.
