Bored! I am bored. I can't think of anything else to do. Nothing for it but to go to bed. With all that Red Bull I should be flying right about now, but.. no effect. Like the mighty buffalo, I am impervious to caffeine. And also, like the mighty buffalo, I am a sleepy boy. So off to sleep I shall go, and perhaps if I am lucky I could continue that nice dream I had last night.
Night night. :)
Well, it is past midnight. All my friends are (apparently) in bed.. and yet, I cannot help but feel that the day is not yet over. There is much to do! Much tidying to be done. I could be useful, productive, in these small hours.
To assist, I have just enjoyed a delicious tin of 'Red Bull', an energy drink which is apparently known for its beneficial effects during "periods of increased mental and physical exertion". It also contains 80mg of caffeine.
I am reasonably confident that caffeine does not work on me. Previous times when my co-workers have implored me not to enjoy that second Starbucks Frappucino, because the high coffee content will have me bouncing off the walls, proved that I am impervious to stimulants of any kind. So it will be this evening too, I am sure.
Now I'm off to tidy my envelopes. I will report back if I notice this drink having any effects whatsoever.
The picture you see, screen right, is the new look of the left-hand wall. (Members of the Tidy Club will be able to compare this with previous pictures taken from roughly the same angle.) At first glance, not much different, you may think - but no! Witness the new arrival of the off-green filing cabinet in the middle. This heavy piece of metal, resplendent with Pingu fridge magnet, joins the left hand wall for the first time this evening, after I painstakingly humped it across the room from the other side, where it had been for the best part of ten years.
I'm informed that use of the word "humped" occasionally causes confusion, and while there is nothing improper about the love between a man and his filing cabinet, I should clarify that I'm just referring to the process of pushing and shoving it across the room. I probably should have emptied it first but that would have taken far longer.
Why the hoohah about moving a filing cabinet a few feet across the room? Well, because now on the other side of the room, there is brand new space where a filing cabinet used to be! I think I might put a chair there. The space is also nicely positioned near the window, which means that I might even get an attack of the "Home Beautiful"s and put up some new curtains there, to replace the faded 'Garfield' curtains that I have treasured for so long.
I feel alive with the wonder of tidying. I am looking forward to the new tidying opportunities on the right-hand-side of the room that have been opened up by this furnitural rearrangement. Life is good, no?
At this time of year, it is through music that the emotions of the season are often best expressed. So here's a nice tune from a group called N*Sync, who almost nobody has heard of outside America. I guess that makes them 'indie'. Apart from the over-staged conceit at the start, this may be my favourite Christmas tune ever. Do forgive the video, though - after all, it was 1998 at the time...
So I tried a different online test to see if I liked the results any better, and this just seems to be suggesting that I'm crazy. Hmph.
73 | |
21 | |
59 | |
49 | |
56 |
| You do not experience strong, irresistible cravings and consequently do not find yourself tempted to overindulge, however you experience panic, confusion, and helplessness when under pressure or stress. People generally perceive you as distant and reserved, and you do not usually reach out to others. You tend not to express your emotions openly and are sometimes not even aware of your own feelings. You naturally assume that most people are fair, honest, and have good intentions, however you feel superior to those around you and sometimes tend to be seen as arrogant by other people. You believe that you have the intelligence, common sense, drive, and self-control necessary for achieving success. |
| Test Yourself Compare Yourself View Full Report |
So I took one of those stupid online tests to see what kind of person I am....
| Greed: | High | |
| Gluttony: | Medium | |
| Wrath: | Medium | |
| Sloth: | High | |
| Envy: | Very Low | |
| Lust: | Low | |
| Pride: | High |
Looking out of my window, I notice that my surroundings are still.. well, surrounded... by much ground frost. It arrived last night, and it has not gone away today.
Needless to say, it presses all the correct buttons. Outside is cold and frosty and getting dark. Indoors it is well-lit and warm. And I am indoors. And still on holiday.
Christmas is here. Merry Christmas to all.
A busy day around the house today, as the nice people from Tesco delivered large quantities of seasonal food and drink and such, necessary to tide me over the whole two day Christmas period where the shops might be closed for a few minutes.
Having taken delivery of all that is needed to eat, drink and be merry, it was also time for the King Of Postage to resume his duties and ensure the delivery of the many bits and pieces that the world's eBayers had furiously bid on just recently. I sold something like 25 items at the weekend, and today was the day to take the largest and most heaviest items to the Post Office for them to be posted - by first class mail of course (The King is aware of Last Posting Dates) - to ensure delivery by Christmas.
Needless to say, even bearing his sack of pre-stamped mail, the King had to take his place in the queue behind many people who were stupid and ordinary, trying to post their strangely shaped items by just putting them in the largest jiffy bag that is purchasable. For the avoidance of doubt, the King wishes to make clear that enormous jiffies are NOT the way to safely post large or irregular objects, and he disapproves of such potential postage disasters.
If you are posting things which are strangely shaped (as indeed the King was doing himself this afternoon) then you must properly packetise the item. Or, to be blunt, put it in a box! Only a box will give your item enough protection not to arrive at the other end looking as if a hoarde of elephants have sat on it. (The Royal Mail have a special department for that, with many elephants sitting down on parcels as they pass through the machines. It's in Bristol.)
"But I can't just put it in a box, it will roll around and go lopsided and such" you might say, and the King of Postage would respect such a display of intelligence with the disclosure of further packaging secrets. Once you have your irregular item in a box, you need to make sure that it is properly insulated, cushioned from attack from any of the six sides which your box is statistically very likely to have. Bubble wrap is always nice to have and is freely available in common stores. But for extra deluxeness, the King of Postage recommends the new wave of "plastic air cushions", these being super elite pillows containing nothing but air. These may be placed around, underneath, and on top of your item, keeping it safe and secure, without adding crucial weight to your package that might otherwise cause the requirement to buy extra stamps.
When your package is properly wrapped, ensure to use appropriate taping techniques to keep your box nicely sealed and looking fantastic during its progress through the postal system and eventually to the doorstep of the recipient. Who wouldn't be delighted to receive a perfectly-wrapped package in time for Christmas?
So, in summary, you can never be the King of Postage, but you can get close by always having a good supply of the following:
- Parcel Tape (bonus points for the good thick stuff)
- Common bubble wrap
- Plastic mailing bags
- Nice cardboard boxes
- Air Cushions
- Sellotape (the WIDE stuff, not the thin rolls)
And always remember, Jiffy Bags are only to be used for posting CDs, DVDs, and small books. If it isn't flat, square, or rectangular, use a box.
The King of Postage has spoken. And wishes you all a Merry Christmas.
This just arrived in my junk mail folder. I swear I'm not making this up.
"Change your little sausage to a huge one! With these medicaments, it will grow so big, that even Donald Trump will want to own it."
I guess he needs something to do now he can't build that golf course...
I was in a chat room earlier. Yes, really. And while I was there, thousands of people all jumped on me, asking, nay, demanding more sumptuous blog updates. Needless to say, it was just lovely to realise that millions of people are reading. But what to write about? What to do?
I suggested that I could post the contents of my spam email folder. Deafening applause was given to this ground-breaking piece of internet performance art (I shall call it an "installation", so people know that it is proper culture.)
Damien Hurst here I come. Or Tracey Ermine, perhaps. Move my bed into the Tate, why not? But first, the art:
"Don't let your -dick- look like a kid from the Philippines. Try this efficient medicine."
That's really awfully coarse and troubling, don't you think? Sadly it doesn't get any better.
"Promote your little soldier of love in a new year! Wishing your life was better? Fortune smiles only on real men! Grow to be a self-confident fellow with a huge pen!s in year 2008!"
Word of my fame is clearly spreading. Here's another one:
"Special holiday offers for pen!s enlargement remedy! Do you think you're being treated improperly? Fortune smiles only on real men! Become a happy guy with a big pen!s in year 2008!"
A big car? A nice fat payrise?
"Experience unforgettable pleasure with your new improved dick! Order now, and you won't regret it!"
Unhappy with your body part? Why not replace it with a new one. Only at Halfords! Actually I'm pretty sure Halfords wouldn't be involved in such a scheme. Replacing body parts is really only the kind of thing you'd expect to see in an actual proper hospital. Probably not an NHS one either.
"Hot Older Ladies!"
At least they're not talking about my trumpet any more. Maybe it's getting better!
"Do you always blame your hard luck? Only real men have all the luck! Change to a fortunate fellow with a huge phallus in year 2008"
Oh, this isn't getting any better at all (although I enjoy the symmetry of "fortunate fellow") - what is causing all this email?
"Do not be shame for reason of of your male aggregate size. Your chick does not want to be with you by reason of your organ size. Don't miss this good possibility to solve the trouble. All you have to do is just put to use our device enlargement. Your life will change sure enough."
That one appears to be offering to service my Bontempi. And who wouldn't be delighted by a change of subject? I certainly would. Whoever is telling these people about the size of my johnson is a total fibber.
I'm technically on holiday. For tomorrow, and the next week, and the next week, and the next week! I don't have to work again until January 7th.
Apart from a brief period of "thinking it was Friday" earlier, I'm not too sure if the enormity of the situation has hit me. Of course there's still a work Christmas do next week, which I shall attend with all the largesse and good grace of someone who is truly on holiday and being there of his own free will.. but in any case.. I don't feel entirely holidayfied yet.
Perhaps later. I will be sure to note it down here when it happens.
I'm in a strange kind of netherworld at the moment. In fact, I'm not even completely sure what day it is. For indeed, you see, despite the fact that I have this niggly feeling that I'm really not being as useful and productive as I should be (home-tidying-wise,) I also find that I have brief, intense periods of entirely exhausting activity.
Yesterday I scanned some more old phone bills, shredding the originals thereafter so as to keep this classified intelligence out of the hands of enemy agents. I really ran up some record-breaking phone bills, back in the day. Who can forget August 1992 when a demand for £678 landed on the doormat? And it seems that I hadn't learned my lesson even by November 1995 when the BT bill weighed in at £762. I don't think I've ever topped that, mostly because phone calls today are cheaper than they've ever been - and who needs to spend hundreds of pounds dialling up the internet when modern living brings us a lovely broadband connection for a price that looks like a bit of a bargain in comparison.
I'm pleased to have these phone bills stored on my computer now. They're good memories, reminders of a time when things were different and apparently nothing mattered, least of all an £800 phone bill. What else explains such insane largesse?
This afternoon was also busy and useful, as the upcoming Christmas season reminded me that I really must get around to putting some more junk on eBay. Junk sells better when the season is pointing a gun to people's heads and making them buy presents OR ELSE. And isn't that depressing? Well, not always. My unique kind of junk is bound to make the perfect present on Christmas morning. Who wouldn't be delighted by a Max Headroom colouring book? Apparently this is now called "Retro", and thus is "in". As if it was ever 'out'.
Something like four or five hours passed this afternoon while I busily took photographs of things (or just slammed them in the scanner), carefully weighed them (to work out how much they'd cost to post), and wrote masterful descriptions so as to describe them to a buying public. ("This is a box of buttons. Some of the buttons are blue. Others are large. The proportion of the buttons which are both large AND blue is shown on the attached venn diagram. Buyer to pay £1 postage.")
So, as I speak, no less than 75 assorted items from my archives are now being gazed upon with curious eyes by a worldwide audience of eBayers. Only 6 days 22 hours and 29 minutes to go. Hurry hurry. Who will buy my sweet red roses?
Oh my GOD! They're CATS.. and they're TALKING TO EACH OTHER!!!
Who knows what intelligence these creatures are sharing in this fashion? What great thoughts are they thinking, sharing, correlating with other members of their kittycat network? What plans could they be making to finally subjugate the human race to their indeterminate whims, allowing unrestricted use of any and all rooms in the house, the immediate opening of all locked doors, and a free right of access to all laundry baskets for the purposes of chillin' or sleepin' ?
Needless to say, I gave this quite some amount of thought. But then someone else was able to translate, and the world is at peace again:
So that's all right then.
"The Bank of England has cut interest rates to 5.5% from 5.75% amid signs that..."
WHAT?! They can't do that! Well, I guess they can, but they mustn't! They shouldn't! What is going to happen to my savings? Soon my pennies of savings will be earning even less pennies of interest. How am I to retire before I'm 40 at this rate?
Needless to say, those no-good heels and bums at the Nationwide and the Halifax announced that they would be cutting their savings rates immediately. Which is awfully nice of them. After all, when interest rates go up they usually think about it for a few months before passing on the increase.
This will never do. Although I see it made the FTSE go up, so maybe it's not all bad. No, who am I kidding, what an annoyance it all is. Bah! Humbug.
There's a news story today about someone who'd been missing for five years, and this weekend walked into a police station. Missing, presumed dead, his return has obviously come as a great relief to everyone.
A similar thing happened to me this afternoon. Because a long time ago, I used to work for the Government. Not the political parties, of course - not the Conservatives (who were in power for most of my time), nor even the Labour party (who swept to power just as I was leaving). No, I worked for the people who really run the country - the Civil Service.
But, ten years ago, I resigned. And shortly after, I moved. Hence, I became officially missing. A bit like Patrick McGoohan in The Prisoner, only without the kit cars or the village or the kidnapping.
Today, I returned. I'm quite sure that far-off computers illuminated lights on a display screen somewhere, that telexes were sent and emails appeared on the Blackberries of Whitehall mandarins in offices both at home and abroad. Ant is back, just like Jack Bauer, only without the good looks and the ruggedness and all that unnecessary showing-off.
The reason for all this is that while tidying up this afternoon, I found some documents from my illustrious career in public service. And I remembered how I'd failed to tell them my new address when I moved, and how I'd failed to fill out their form asking me if I'd got married, as they needed to know all that stuff for my pension.
A pension! I forgot I had one of those.
I made the call.
Needless to say, the number had changed, but a little detective work revealed where duties had been transferred to.
I made the call.
"Civil Service Pensions", said the reassuringly smooth lady voice on the end of the phone. It was like being home again.
I said hello, explained my absence, gave my super-secret-squirrel codeword (which mere mortals might confuse with an ordinary National Insurance number, but we know better.) Within moments, my details were filling the screen of the distant operative.
"Mr -redacted- ?", she said. I confirmed my identity.
"It's good to have you back, Sir." I think she said that, at least, but I was momentarily distracted. We chatted amiably for a few moments, and I indicated that I was about to transmit my co-ordinates to her. Grateful for the update, she indicated that new goodies and access codes would be posted to me shortly. (And we know how good Government post is.)
I commented that it had been a while, and I should not have left them wondering where I was for so long. Her voice was reassuring. "People often forget about us for a while, but then as they get older they get in touch to put their affairs in order."
Affairs?! ... Oh, right, the pension. Of course. We chatted some more, at which point they said they'd post me a "valuation" as well. I'm sure that this will be a considerable sum for my many years of modestly-paid work.
It's very good to be back. Now that they know where I am, I'm sure that my country will be in touch if they need me to handle any more urgent filing and photocopying for them.
