of the seven deadly sins, the eighth and worst by far is emotional blackmail ... the diligent practise of this subtle and ancient art creates a constantly evolving darwinistic moral vacuum in which the brightest new manipulative ideas and stratagems flourish ... and which only you, or i, can fill !
Monday, July 04, 2005
oh so tired
having tumbled out of a deep sleep at four & pedalled like hell to get to work, i was just driving gently down to a roundabout on the outskirts of london with a relaxed smile on my face when the engine stopped
it hadn't groaned or whined or clunked, it just wasn't there all of a sudden, and neither was the power steering, so the adrenalin rushed up as i used the last bit of momentum to wrestle the long van through the roundabout and into a nice comfy sit & wait forever position
of course the real stress was on my manager rod, who had to sort out a rescue and has been trying to rent another chiller van, almost impossible at the height of the summer season when the outdoor catering business is so busy
and there was stress for quentin, the driver who brought another van out as quickly as possible during the rush hour before the temperature of the goods on board mine had risen noticeably
but then i had to move a ton of boxes from one van to the other double quick, so i'm knackered
on the way back, about eight hours into the shift, i was so tired that it seemed safer to stop and rest for a while, so i turned off to visit the thames barrage and tried to imagine what the river must have looked like when it was full of wooden boats under sail
check above to see what it looks like now
it hadn't groaned or whined or clunked, it just wasn't there all of a sudden, and neither was the power steering, so the adrenalin rushed up as i used the last bit of momentum to wrestle the long van through the roundabout and into a nice comfy sit & wait forever position
of course the real stress was on my manager rod, who had to sort out a rescue and has been trying to rent another chiller van, almost impossible at the height of the summer season when the outdoor catering business is so busy
and there was stress for quentin, the driver who brought another van out as quickly as possible during the rush hour before the temperature of the goods on board mine had risen noticeably
but then i had to move a ton of boxes from one van to the other double quick, so i'm knackered
on the way back, about eight hours into the shift, i was so tired that it seemed safer to stop and rest for a while, so i turned off to visit the thames barrage and tried to imagine what the river must have looked like when it was full of wooden boats under sail
check above to see what it looks like now
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