Day five: Write the list, tick the list, re-write your list (neater) tick it again.

It is what it is.

What is it?



Let me gloss.  I have just completed a large project, operation Wash Up.  I feel almost snooty in the completion.  It involved the usual but multiplied by three.  Yes three.  One more than double, that is why it progressed to operation and not just loads of washing up.  But that is life currently, jobs are building up and concluding them seems less inviting than starting a new one.  We all like something new don’t we? Shiny, shiny, new. Take operation Wash Up as prime example, midway I lost focus of the job in my bubbled hands and went to visit my stricken cat – a cement mixer with construction team on strike- her poo remains concrete and imprisoned, her hair remains unstylish and her voice is a meek meow.  Poor cat.  Yesterdays nugget remains on the mantelpiece as a reminder that when push comes to shove rewards do come. I have advised cat to take inspiration from this trophy of achievement but she stares at me and says shit a brick son.  I digress, again, just as the point of my post.  I was talking of taking on new rather than completing what you have started last night with a friend whilst watching a Scandinavian thriller (Headhunters…worth a cross-your-legs-edge-of-seat-watch).  We agreed there is something largely satisfying in finishing a job, rubbing your hands together on completion, ticking the list with flamboyant vigor.  It is also a great feeling telling someone a task is complete knowing they still have to complete it! Strut, posture, swank… mwah ha ha.  It doesn’t happen to me often, usually I’m the one bent out of shape.  Back to operation Wash Up.  As the water started to cool and discolour I decided breakfast as a breaker, to give me the energy to finish the initial task.  This only created more washing up, one step forward two steps back.  I must not make that a mantra this year or I’ll end up back in 2012.  The cat would love that.  Oh the days of regular body hair, regular bowel movement, a happy time when she wasn’t spaced out and flaked out on antibiotics.  My fiancée also, rewind to before she grew a third rear cheek and I am sure she would be thankful.  We still don’t know how it occurred, forensics are still trying to get to the bottom of it! Cheap.  Buy cheap you get bitten – all fingers point to a creature from the black lagoon that was hidden within the sheets of toilet roll… we should have gone for double-downy-fleecy-velvet-double sheets but how were we to know?  Once bitten twice shy – I hope she doesn’t abandon trust in toilet paper.

A dirty job.

I am starting to panic slightly, not due to her bum, that will sort itself out I’m sure…unless an exotic spider has laid… let’s not go there (she reads this).  I am panicking as I am back to work on Monday after two weeks off.  I had plenty of work on my list to tick off: I can’t even find my list.  I shall spend time on writing a new list.  Blogging was not on my list.  Operation Wash Up should not be on a list but it will and furthermore ticked off instantly to give me some form of boost, similar to the poo trophy that cat won yesterday.  I best get ahead or I’ll be behind or worse still bent out of shape come Monday when every other staff member has ‘done’ their work.  Critters.

As for my job.  I am not a Headhunter.  I am still not a vet.


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