Well the weekends been and gone and only a day to go until my interview. I'm a bit nervous, I don't know why but I am. These country mesters' (Lincolnshire Fen dialect: "Mester(s)" meaning person or people) are not easy to please. Well, I'm sure I'll win them over with my bright personality, warm smile and knowledge of the potato! I've had my hair cut this morning and will be ironing my shirt and pressing my trousers later. I can make the effort for certain things.
I've got a Smart Phone, a Samsung Galaxy 1. A few months ago I managed to break the screen while it was in my pocket and cost me £70 for the repair and to be fucked about by the staff in the Lincoln Branch of 02. Well, while it was away, not only did they repair it they loaded it up with the latest version of software. Good I thought, but the problem is just lately it's does what the fuck it likes. It sometimes forgets to lock causing me to open various Apps while its in my pocket, I send texts that nobody gets, people send me texts and the phone kindly saves them up and sends me them all at once hours later, usually in the middle of the night. These phones are very clever I have to admit but I think next time, employment permitting, I'll get a normal phone.
I watched a shite film at the weekend, and I really should have known better really. It was called "The Reef" starring a bunch of unpleasant Australian nobodies. Yesterday I returned it to the person who lent me it and lead me to believe it wasn't that bad. His mum was there so I wasn't rude but I'll have the bastard!
I signed on this morning, I'm not proud but needs must. It never fails to amaze me in there though. My time to sign on is 9AM! if I'm late I don't get "paid". 9.30AM I'm finally called up. They are rarely open on time, usually 5 or so minutes late. They spend an age talking crap to each other, this morning they were all eager to find out what car the security guard bought himself at the weekend (a new style Corsa, Black apparently). After they have pointlessly flapped about with bits of paper and got their cup in position on their desk, they start calling out the names. Now, I've recieved no help in getting a job and I'm not expecting anyone to help me either. It MY responsiblity to get a job. Well thats what I have always been lead to believe. It seems that those people who obviously don't want a job, and you can spot them a mile off, will get the staff bending over backward to sort all their shit out for them. A bloke came bouncing through the door today, shouting and hollering that he hadn't been "paid". the security bloke directed him to the free phones and said you need to press button B and sort it out with the benefit office. He wasn't having any of it, demanding that "Mandy" did it. Some woman I presume was Mandy, stopped what she was doing with some poor jobless bum and went and did it for him! I was fuming. I'm glad Mandy wasn't sorting my claim out at the time or there would have been blood spilt. People like this shouldn't be entertained by the benefit system. They've no intention of doing fuck all for themselves.
Gonna clean the inside of my car in bit. It's been done several times since I left my previous job but its still got sodding concrete dust in the carpets. I Hate Concrete.
I've been listening to Fleet Foxes today, the latest album "Helpless Blues". Not into it as much as their first album.