I never realised that the BBC had a Creative Writing site. I haven’t had much of a look, but the site itself seems quite nicely laid out (not like a lot of writing sites), and there’s some interesting looking features in there.
It’s Friday, and it looks as if the day is going to be a right pain in the arse. I’m reporting this week – the most sorry-ass job in the whole company – which means chasing up people who have better things to do than write three miserable sentences for your report. You’d think I was asking them to turn in masters’ theses, the way they go on about it: “I might be able to get it to you by the end of the day,” etc. etc. And they say things like “down here (i.e. downstairs) we don’t live for reporting.” Grr. Not as if I do. Dare I say it? I’m just trying to do my job!
I’m such an office drone. I walk to work and am depressed by the other people on the street. It’s such a detestable situation I’ve found myself in. And I play mental tricks on myself. I tell myself it’s not so bad, look, I can go to university and do other things too. And I can do things like work on my online diary and surf the web and do research and write friends who are overseas, and anyway I need some structure in my life, if I was at home I’d just read or sleep in or play computer games and not get outside, not get any exercise. So you see, this job really is a good thing.
Apparently there was a survey taken in Wellington not so long ago, and something like 80% of the people surveyed said they weren’t happy in their jobs. Worrysome?
I got this joke from James in an email today:
After getting all of Pope John Paul’s luggage loaded into the limo (and he doesn’t travel light), the driver notices that the Pope is still standing on the curb.
“Excuse me, Your Holiness,” says the driver, “Would you please take your seat so we can leave?”
“Well, to tell you the truth,” says the Pope,”they never let me drive at the Vatican, and I’d really like to drive today.”
“I’m sorry but I cannot let you do that. I’d lose my job! And what if something should happen?” protests the driver, wishing he’d never gone to work that morning.
“There might be something extra in it for you,” says the Pope.
Reluctantly, the driver gets in the back as the Pope climbs in behind the wheel. The driver quickly regrets his decision when, after exiting the airport, the Pontiff floors it, accelerating the limo to 105 mph.
“Please slow down, Your Holiness!!!” pleads the worried driver, but the Pope keeps the pedal to the metal until they hear sirens.
“Oh, dear God, I’m gonna lose my license,” moans the driver.
The Pope pulls over and rolls down the window as the cop approaches, but the cop takes one look at him, goes back to his motorcycle, and gets on the radio.
“I need to talk to the Chief,” he says to the dispatcher.
The Chief gets on the radio and the cop tells him that he’s stopped a limo going a hundred and five.
“So bust him,” says the Chief.
“I don’t think we want to do that, he’s really important,” said the cop.
The Chief exclaimed,”All the more reason!”
“No, I mean really important,” said the cop.
The Chief then asked, “Who ya got there, the Mayor?”
“Well,” said the Chief, “Who is it?”
Cop: “I think it’s God!”
Chief: “What makes you think it’s God?”
Cop: “He’s got the fu*king Pope as a driver!!”
Well, I thought it was funny.
I still have this really bad cough. The strange thing about it is that sometimes when I start coughing, I can’t stop – it’s like a spasm of coughing. I’ve never had that before. It’s really strange. It’s been going on for a few weeks now. I’m sure it is getting better, or maybe I’m just better at putting up with it.