Rangy Manatee

Hello all. It's kinda sunny outside. Ish. Yeah.

I'm doing my best to be optimistic now. I'm doing a few shifts at the Cumberland Arms in Byker, starting tonight which I'm looking forward to. I know I probably shouldn't divulge such person information as someone might read this, take offence at my use of the word 'mongoloid' in this very sentence, drive to Newcastle tonight, come to the pub, and subject me to a strongly-worded telling off about how that particular word is considered politically incorrect nowadays and maybe I should consider using the word 'retard' cos that's fine apparently.

Maybe not.

Well, how couldn't I be positive today? I scored 97 1/2 percent on my 'test' at work. Yeah! Get me! (And an 80 for an academic essay? This guy is publishable.) Before you start gushing and emailing me to congratulate someone who clearly deserves both praise and a pay rise, it should be noted that the test took about 20 minutes and covered the (at most) ten pieces of information learned thus far in two weeks. It's an intensive course I don't mind telling you.

Needless to say, many failed.

In fact, you are probably thinking "wait you lost 2 1/2 percent and frankly that's just gay". Well you'd be right. Let's just say I had a senior moment.

But, you know, I think I take a general level of intelligence for granted. Like being able to listen to someone and not forget/not understand every single word uttered by said person. But no, many are very thick indeed.

Ok ok, this is getting rather pathetic.

In fact, I've just realised that this blog is starting to become 'The diary of Tim off The Office'. It's sad. If only I cared lots about money. It would be so easy to apply for a few graduate type jobs, get a starting salary of what, £20,000? I'd be set up. I'd wear a suit, shave, cut my hair. I certainly wouldn't write this damn blog.

But no, I have to put off the inevitable. I have to insist on getting a part time job. I have to insist on being 'creative'. I should probably point out that the most creative I've been recently involved writing a pretend letter to my brother's girlfriend which declared that he was infact a woman and no longer cared for her.

At least it was funny. But if I'm honest I know that being grammatically correct and occasionally funny doesn't quite pay the rent. Or the gas bill. Or cover the price of a Twix. But it does ensure that I stand on an unjustified raised moral pavement. Which is nice.

I should go travelling. Put things into perspective. The perspective likely to be: 'I'm quite pale aren't I. And quite short really. And you know, I don't know anything about the world.'

Well, I look forward to that epiphany.

Apologies for today. I've been more incoherent than usual. Sleep well.