Fun and frolicks

Well, the new barmaid at work isn't making a return. She felt intimidated by us other bar staff. I mean, c'mon. We aren't intimidating, we just get a bit over friendly with each other. No, not like that, it's a standing joke where we work that i have the biggest boobs while the grand majority of the staff have little ones, and because of this, two of my closest friends that also work with me prod them for time to time as if to say, 'Oi bitch, get your tits out of the way' or 'c'mon, share the wealth'.

Throw in D who also likes to grab them at any given opportunity and i suppose i spend my nights being groped.

New barmaid (NBM) didn't quite approve of this. She left that night looking quite scared and hasn't been back yet... but heyho, plenty more flesh out there. It wasn't like we were grabbing her boobs now was it??

It's our halloween party on Saturday night and i still haven't decided what i'm going as. Whatever it is, i have to be able to serve beer and have some feet left at the end of my shift so please don't make me wear heels!! I thought about an evil fairy, or a witch. Or maybe a cat, but they are crap ideas personally so i dunno. I'll probably wear a bin bag and pretend i'm something that no one can recongise...

Anyway, tonight i plan to drink wine and eat indian and chat about bollocks to D's mum. I'm so looking forward to this...

Bzzzz

It's dentist time again.

Boohoo.

Not only that, i had garlic for lunch cos i forgot about the dentist this afternoon. The dentist will be sooo chuffed with me!!

So think of me in around 2 hours, when the evil cow will decide that i must have a scale and polish.

I'd rather have my hand chopped off...

I'm tired...

I'm constantly tired. I'm tired at work, i'm tired at home, i'm tired in the pub. But, most of all, i'm tired of orange post it notes.

WTF??

I'm soooooooo fucked off with orange post its. They clutter my desk, they stick to everything and most of all, they shout work at me.

I can't even bring myself to chuck them away. They may be important. I may have wrote a very important message on one and if i binned it the world would stop turning. Fucking orange post its. Just fuck off, go on, bugger off.

Oooo I sooo want one of these! It's so cute. I'm not quite getting what it is, but i want one. Now!!

And look at this, this is so cool! I laughed for aggges!!

One More and I'll have a Hat Trick...

Hey people, guess where i've been...

You'll never guess...

Hospital!!!

again.

Yep, i did it again. I managed to get myself admitted to hospital for the second time in 5 months, this time, for Tonsillitis.

I felt a bit of a twat actually, i didn't feel ill, i just couldn't swallow. So there i was, a cold and dark Tuesday morning, with my long suffering Dad, at A&E, flobbing into a cardboard bowl cos i couldn't swallow my own spit.

Nice.

They made me get naked into a gown and left me for 4 hours while some bloke nearly died from a low heart rate in the cubicle next to me. Then, just as i nodded off, a nurse decides she would spray an 'Antispetic' spray down my throat, to numb my poorly tonsils and enable me to swallow. Well, all it did was enable me to throw up more easily (over the nurse tee hee) and seize my throat completely.

Yes, breathing was quite difficult at that stage.

Anyway, they whisked me off to Ward 72, surrounded me with old, smelly men, and pumped a ton of drugs into my arm.

Now, me and hospitals do not get on. They do not allow me to sleep. Ever. So on my 90th night of lying awake i hear the unmistakable sound of crutches pittering toward my room. (i had a room, get me). My room is right next to the blokes loo, so quite often i hear things young women don't need to hear, right? Anyway, this bloke who couldn't have been a day younger than 270, was struggling to the loo and i felt a bit sorry for him. So me being me, got up and went to find a nurse to help him. (I wasn't gonna touch him), and as i passed, the evil git spewed.

Right in front of me.

On my sodding foot

I did what any normal, self respecting girlie would do... I cried and wailed and stuck my foot in a basin of scalding water to scrub away all known diseases from my poor skin. The old man just hiccupped at me and wandered off. The nurses tutted at me, and the doc told me off the next day for burning my now slightly pink foot and overeacting just a little.

What do you expect for fucks sake, he was sick. ON MY FOOT. It touched me. *shivers* What about MRSA eh?? He didn't gel his bloody guts first did he. No he fucking didn't.

I was let home the next day. I think i upset the ward. Oops.