6:50am: Alarm clock.
No, no, no, NO, NO!
There are two settings on my alarm; radio, or EVIL BASTARD BEEPING, so naturally I've always had the radio wake me up. But my alarm is old, and over the moronic chirpy banter of lobotomised radio DJs that snaps me out of my Coma-Lite every morning can now be heard the emerging torment of that fucking beep, growing in intensity until I feel the rage build up inside me like OJ Simpson at a wife-swapping party.
I went to bed late on Sunday night. I always go to bed late on a Sunday night. I just can't help it. It's my brain's fault, kicking and screaming against my skull and yelling 'I DON'T WANT TO GO TO BED YET!' while my body says 'Don't look at me, I only got up 8 hours ago.' So I do the dumbest thing possible and preoccupy myself til 1 or 2am because I'm a twat. And when I wake up, my temples are throbbing from lack of sleep and I want to kill everything.
I got to work later than my normal 8:45am. It was more like 9:30am, and half an hour after we open shop. Except we didn't open shop as normal because my Boss arrived on time but forgot his keys - a rare event, and on the one morning I'm not there to let him in. So what would've been a largely forgiven half-hour late spell on my part became a locked-out fume on theirs.
When I opened up, our van driver phoned. He wasn't on the ball either and had just filled our diesel van with petrol and couldn't understand why the fucking thing was dying on its arse, so our guys couldn't do any deliveries today.
Then Rob mentions that a friend of his mates was shot dead yesterday.
Fucking hell. All I need now is major dentistry.
For forty minutes this afternoon, every tooth in my mouth was being manhandled by a butcher with an electric scythe.
'There's a lot of plaque behind the gums', mumbled my hygenist distractedly as she attempted to punishment fuck my virgin nerveendings with a fierce rotating phallus, her only obstacles to attaining oral coitus with my jaw being my bleeding teeth. And after being x-rayed (I was locked in a broomcupboard with a '70s chic radiation machine while the hygenist yelled from the safety of The Other Side Of The Door, 'For God's sake, DON'T MOVE.'), I was told the joyous news that I need to visit hospital to have my wisdom teeth expatriated.
So that's an eventful start to the week, and one I hope never to repeat in a billion fucking lifetimes. And now I have this strange Chernobylesque headache.
Coming Soon ~ Unnecessary Introspection #6: The Crap Blind Date.