Counting down the days

I've woken up to find my car completely frosted over and covered with snow. Had to go out and start it, reverse it right in front of the front door to minimize any time that I have to spend outside, and now just wait for it to thaw out so I can head off to work.

Only three more days to go. I'm sure I've driven everyone at work mental singing "Only 4 days left, 4 days left, 4 days left..." but I really don't care to be honest. I've lost interest in my job, not least because of the recent cut backs, lay-offs and general low mood that seems to hang over that place like the cliche black cloud. I sent out my CV to a couple of jobs I thought sounded interesting and have already bagged two offers and one invite to an interview! I'm going to think things over on my holidays, see how I feel and take it from there.

It makes me feel infinitely better knowing that I have real options should things at work get so bad I can't stick it anymore. But for now, just for another day I'm off to work.

"Only 3 days left, 3 days left, 3 days left..."

Miles high

My holidays are getting closer very fast. I was talking to my parents yesterday and realised how much I'm missing them. I really cannot wait to get there! This time next week I'll be at Helsinki airport, tucking into some vary tasty rye bread, drinking good, Finnish coffee and waiting for my connecting flight.

I have already made plans to meet up with friends, see relatives and generally just chill out and do as little as possible. It is a holiday after all. I'm working right up until my holidays, I'm going to the airport more or less straight from work. I prefer it that way, I can jump onto the plane and go to sleep. Unless I'm unfortunate enough to get seated beside someone who insists on asking where and why I'm traveling. Which usually is my cue to turn up the volume on my iPod and pretend I've gone deaf.

I spent an excruciating 3 hours on a flight from Copenhagen to Dublin listening to the man seated beside me tell me in detail how he nearly missed the plane because of the bus strike which was on in Copenhagen at the time. There, I've just managed to squeeze the 2,5 hour long story into one sentence. The only reason I had to sit through that story was that I had forgotten to pack my iPod so I had no escape.The airline's own in-flight magazine didn't exactly provide enough cover.

Another time I spent a flight from Dublin to Helsinki getting out of my aisle seat every 40 minutes or so to let one or the other of the two women seated beside me, to go and use the bathroom. Every 40 minutes. They were taking turns. I was trying to sleep. I suggested I take the window seat but I was told they "liked to look at the clouds". Seriously, ladies. The least they could've done was stop drinking tiny little cans of lager...

Bee Hive

Oh how I've pretended to be busy. Well, not entirely pretending, I must say. All those loose ends I was talking about a few posts ago; the car service etc. are slowly being taken care of. Mainly because I want to be able to go on my holidays in 11 days from today (can you tell I'm looking forward to it? can you?) and not have to worry about any of that.

I talked to my parents today for the first time in a month, in other words first time since they went to Thailand. Lucky sods. They spent a month in the heat and sun and apparently towards the end of their holiday my mother was completely blending in with the native dwellers of Khao Lak. My mother is tiny, anyway, and she tans ridiculously well for a Finnish person. Can't wait to see them!

Work has been the usual mixture of highs and lows and the inbetweens. Lots of planning for this season, some of the ideas thrown around are very exciting, some of them I wish I had the power to bin straight away. I had to suppress my fit of giggles with a customer last weekend. He asked me how to use the self-service coffee machine. I told him to put his cup under the nozzle and then choose the coffee he wanted. The machine in question is one with 6 push buttons and nothing else, each button very clearly labeled "black coffee", "cappuccino", "latte" etc. The man thanked me, put his cup under the nozzle, leaned very close to the machine and very clearly said "black coffee" into the nozzle and then stood back to wait for the machine to do his bidding. I dove down pretending to pick up a pen I had "dropped" and bit my lip trying not to laugh. Seriously, you can't make these things up.

At some stage, at work, we were talking about putting all these experiences into a book. I wonder what happened to that idea? I alone could easily fill a chapter or two and I'm there only 7 years this year. Like the time the kitchen got so hot in the middle of the summer the chefs at the end of their shift stripped down to their boxer shorts and walked out into the restaurant much to the amusement of our customers...

Dream a little dream

All has been quiet on my western front for the last week or so. Nothing out of the ordinary, the few days I have been working have been quite hectic which suits me just fine, nothing worse than hovering about with nothing to do. Had an impromptu night out with friends on Friday, which seemed like a really good idea at the time. Unfortunately our night ran a bit long, so I only got home at 6.30am fully aware of the fact that I would have to be at work at 9.00am. Going to bed wasn't an option, because once I go to sleep, that's it for at least 4 hours. So I opted for a long shower and gallons of coffee.

I did make it work bang on time and was promptly told by the head chef that I looked like a zombie. I love the people at work, they are honest to the point of brutality sometimes. I take that any day of the week over someone being nice to your face and then bitching about you behind your back.

All these things going on in my head have obviously had an effect on my dreams. Really, they're getting stranger by the night. Just the other night I dreamt I was having lunch at a pub with Mr S, who kicked off when I refused to eat a pizza that had candle wax "shaved" into it by our waitress who was trying to whittle down a candle to fit the candle stick at our table. Yeah, I know. And that's one of the saner ones. 

I'm still spending a lot of time in the kitchen. Nothing beats comfort food. Mr S is having a stressful time of it, not least caused by his father who is looking after Mr S's nephew and doing quite a bad job of it. The nephew isn't lifting a finger around the house and Mr S's father is continuing to everything for him. Families, eh?

I'm going to see my family at the end of this month for two weeks. Cannot bloody wait. Haven't seen them since June last year, it's about time I showed my face. My parents are currently in Thailand for a month(!!) and my brother flew over with his fiance and daughter to see them. Lucky sods...