July 12, 2013 — ‘Seni
July 12, 2013 — ‘Seni
Mood — bleh.
I had Tenth Avenue North’s ‘Worn’ on repeat all morning, long enough to trigger my very own chicken and egg conundrum — Was I playing the song because I was feeling in the dumps or was I in the dumps because I had been playing the song…
The fact was I had come into work grumpy, thanks to another night of sub-par sleep. Lately the flat mate and her boy friend have taken to getting themselves an early morning quickie. Notoriously light sleeper that I am, I have tended to wake up somewhere between their early mumblings and their fairly loud pants, presumably after certain peaks of pleasure have been scaled.
I have taken to going into work early, the peace and quiet between 7.30am and 9.00am when the rest of the office mates come in being very productive, and good for my sanity. Today though, they seemed more interested in grating on my nerves — refusing to take the hint from the audibly loud headphones firmly planted in my ears, proceeding to regale me with stories from the previous night out.
The guys in our larger team had on the spur of the moment decided an evening of socialising was in order. I ummed and ahhed as disinterestedly as I possibly could as I was forced to listen to five or so re-tellings of the events of the night before. With each year that passes, I am becoming increasingly convinced that I will never understand the thinking behind going out as a team, getting thoroughly pissed and then dragging oneself into work the next day to down bacon rolls and moaning about being hungover.
I somehow managed to survive the aural onslaught — well timed coffee breaks, an extended peek at the morning papers and forty five minutes pretending to complete a risk assessment with the Process Engineer whiled time away till it was 11.30am, and salvation in the form of peri-peri chicken
It might have been a sugar high from all the coke I downed, but somewhere in my head it was proof incontrovertible that peri-peri chicken makes the world a less grumpy place.
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‘Seni self classifies as a nerd — not that there are very many other ways to describe him it must be said. After flirting briefly (if three years of one’s life can be counted as brief) with the nuclear industry, he’s auctioned his soul to the dark side of big oil. For what its worth, even his dear mother thinks he sold out.