I wonder why.
About many things really.
Following on from my previous witterings, why, after a few days of not much activity with the digging up of the pavement, was there suddenly a flurry of activity on a Sunday afternoon to work on filling it in? Is it just the cynic in me thinking that the only likely reason would be because it is a Sunday, the people doing the work would be able to claim double time overtime for it instead of the standard wage for doing it during the week?
Am I as bad at not being self-aware as some other people are? I don’t think my work at anything is brilliant, but at the same time I don’t think it is shockingly awful, but some people make me cringe as they struggle through what I think is really poor stuff, yet they are under the impression Shakespeare has nothing on them.
Why does the cat automatically gravitate to the most awkward or inappropriate place to settle down and pretend to be comfortable. Surely wrapping itself up in amongst all the leads from the computer can’t be comfortable.
Do companies do it on purpose? Do they wait until you are at the point where you are going to give up on them, on their services, on their website, on their app, in their queue, and at the point you are turning round, logging off, hanging up, they are suddenly working, and up in your face, effectively shouting, look at us, we are here, how can we help? Just as the writing group are getting ready to leave Lloyds Bank due to them introducing charges for their community account, they have finally given me a working online log on for them. Only twenty-one months after the account was opened and it was requested from them.
Why is it that the moment you are not around is the exact moment people turn up to do what it is you have been waiting for them to do. It doesn’t matter if you have been waiting minutes, hours, days, or weeks. The moment you let your guard down and go off to do something else will be the time they will be there to do it and they will be moaning because you’ve had the audacity to go and do something else because you got sick of waiting for them.
Was I always this irascible? Or have I used up what my lifetime quota of patience was. Is it natural for everyone and everything to annoy me? Should it be such a struggle for me not to want to scream at people to shut the fuck up or for them to stop being so deliberately stupid. I’m sure life in general used to be more fun than this. Finally, was work always such a crock of shit. On my way back to work (after a less than wonderful writing group session), I found myself desperately disappointed that in the couple of hours I was away that, I hadn’t come into a sudden fortune which would mean never working again, or that the world hadn’t ended. The most worrying thing being that where work is concerned, I don’t appear to be overly bothered which end of the spectrum it is, as long as it means no more work.