Where's the tow truck?

I'll be the first one to admit it -
I am wrecked.
I am tangled up and torn
On the shards of the love you gave
The thing I threw against the wall
Sadistically loving the sound
the cracking and the smashing.

Going in every which way
at exactly the same time
My mind is never where it should be.
My heart doesn't even factor into the equation.
You do the math.

Nothing you do will get through
The gates locked and barred.
I reflect nothing, absorb everything.
Hate me. Please hate me.
I'm loathed dry.

Honey, This Mirror Isn't Big Enough For The Both of Us

I've recently discovered that certain people have been reading my little mental expose, who shouldn't, as I've written some really bad things.

I don't make any excuses for what I put down here.

This is the place where I rant. I spew the thoughts swirling around in my head, ever expanding until it feels like my head is going to explode. And if there are some injuries sustained in the crossfire, then get off the page!

Thank you for reading.

Cover Me In Gasoline. (Cos I'm gonna burn anyway)

Some people wouldn't know a good thing if it bitch-slapped them across the face.

I'm not one of those people. I can see a good thing a mile away.
My good thing spoils me rotten.
My good thing is great.

Except for that little problem we have everytime I'm feeling a little too cosy.
Yep.
My good thing ain't so great then.

Could this explain why I'm really starting to dig my good thing's colleague, who is not only good looking, but single too?
Did I mention there was an irish accent involved?

So my guilty concious has me up at 3:45am typing this instead of staying in bed where its warm and cosy. Well, cosy to the point of claustrophobia.

I'm so gonna burn in hell for this.

Good thing I like the heat.

Schengen...no?

Ok, so, the accountant? the one whose bed reputation is, well, less than reputable, has asked me on a long weekend in Europe!!

The question remains...who is Bridget Jones? Me?, or Accounting boy???

Switzerland is looking good...

for references, watch Bridget Jones: Edge of Reason...

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

Blocked In

Last night I did something I have never done before - I stormed out of my shift.
Granted, it was 4am, technically the end of my shift, I had no painkillers to numb my throbbing arm and I was told that the men I was working with believed I wasn't pulling my weight at work.

I have two words for those fuckers: FUCK OFF

Do I need to breakdown exactly why I cannot change kegs (aside from my keg room ban), or carry boxes of wine bottles, or pick up trays of glasses???
Do I? Honestly?
Please direct your attention to exhibit A - My right wrist. Currently still in its fibreglass casing. And thanks to you, insisting I do more than my fair share, set my healing process back by two weeks.

And now you're bitching about me not pulling my weight?

So I left at 4am. Leaving them to clean up the debris of a Saturday night club by themselves. Besides, I was in charge of the cloakroom all night.
Batman even bought me a few beers.

I have, however, registered with Office Angels and hopefully, with christmas coming on, there will be a lot of temp positions for me to fill that won't require me lifting anything heavier than a telephone.

So due to my awful week having to deal not only with ignorant co workers, but also every idiot to walk through the pub doors. I'm sick of the human race and have instead, barricaded myself inside my room for the next few days to work on my blogs and story in peace.

Nothing better than being cosy with my laptop and Billie Holiday.

Empty Fridge

How do you know you work too much?

You wake up one day to find your fridge empty.
I haven't had a full day off in weeks and this morning I woke up craving some yoghurt only to find my fridge void of anything edible. It's pointless going shopping as I have to be at work in a few hours anyway.

And I have soooo many other things to do. Better things to do.

Totally messed up my broken wrist the other night, so after two weeks of drug free living, i'm back on teh painkillers. The strong ones.
This fucks me up, so I get asked if i'm high by customers.
No. I'm in pain.

At least I have Sunday off.