So my foray into working two jobs has ended already. I just couldn’t cope with being at work for another 12 hours a week. It was too much. I missed sitting down and immersing myself in a film for an hour and a half or so, or watching some mindless TV. The things I claimed to not care about are the things that I missed most. Shazbat.
My Monday evening is taken up with Band Practice, though we haven’t had one now for at least a month, the last one we had was when we were having torrential rain and it was leaking into the studio. My Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday were spent at Tesco’s pleasure. Friday was the only evening of relaxation and the Weekend was spent with my lovely girlfriend, so not much time to myself really. I didn’t particularly notice that that was the problem, nor was I physically tired. It was just being knackered all the time and having to rush to and from my jobs that was taking the toll on me.
After a particularly heavy night on the beer I slept for 15 hours, this was perhaps the defining moment for me. I have never, except under really crazy circumstances slept for such a period of time and whilst it didn’t worry me it rather goes against my grain. I hate spending what little time I’m left from my job, sleeping. I want to spend every minute of my non-working days running around doing things, dancing naked down supermarket aisles, dancing naked round municipal parks or just plain dancing naked!
Whatever, it’s over and I feel defeated. But not as defeated as I felt by downloading an official music download. I spent 99 pence downloading Mansun’s last single Slipping Away. When it had downloaded I attempted to play it but then it kept trying to acquire a license, which it wouldn’t do. I was destroyed. The future of music eh? Paying to download things that then won’t work. How come I’ve downloaded hundred’s of Gb’s of films and music and TV and games, none of which are paid for and they work fine? Why doesn’t Windows complain that they need licenses? I was so fucked off I retired to my room and watched an episode of Jeeves & Wooster, which very nearly calmed me down.
Anyway, aren’t the photo’s I’ve posted lovely? They’re of Robin Hood’s Bay that is along the coast from Scarborough. Emily and I have been exploring the East Coast over the last few weekends. We visited Scarborough on the 14th August, where the beach was ram-jammed with people before making our way along the coast down to Filey, where the beach had disappeared beneath the waves and then to the lighthouse out at Flamborough Head, which doesn’t really have a beach. We came back to York and went for a mexican at the delightful Fiesta Mexicana that finished the day of brilliantly.
The following weekend we made our way to Robin Hood’s Bay, most of the recent photographs come from there. The weather was gorgeous, the traffic was awful and the company was the best. When we got down to the bay we started to walk out to the sea just as the rain started to come down. We were walking toward the sea as everyone else there was walking back. When we reached the sea it had started to drizzle, so we stood there for a while before walking back. As we returned the skies cleared again and it stopped raining! The drive back was lovely, if not a little cloudy.
Next was the Bank Holiday weekend. I’d booked the Friday off so as to enjoy a nice long weekend courtesy of Her Maj’s Bank Holiday and my brother and sister-in-law travelled up from Reading for the weekend. We drove over to Redcar in the morning, which is a lot further North than Scarborough and is where I have family. We strolled up and down the promenade, which just went to show how seaside towns are dying, and in today’s world, have little or nothing to offer visitors or residents, before travelling to our Auntie Dot’s for a lovely meal and a chat. Fully fed and happy we travelled slightly south down the coast to Saltburn-on-Sea, where there was still plenty of beach and a couple of pubs overlooking it. As it had been a sunny day and I’d been to the coast three weekends on the trot I figured I really should go in the sea. Utterly unprepared; trousers up to thighs, I staggered into the freezing water. Exhilarating isn’t quite the word. That people go and hurl themselves in, for charity granted, on New Years Day has always amazed me. It wasn’t enough though, so in returned to the shore and dropped my trousers. I went in wearing just my pants, and t-shirt. By ‘eck it were right cold. But it was good fun and a man gave me his towel (possibly from his boot used to dry his dog, but hey! nice gesture anyway) and I towelled myself off before going commando for the rest of the day. To celebrate the Madness of King Oll we went to one of the pubs that overlooked the beach and had a drink.
