Screaming . . .

Can you hear me?
Its been one of those weeks. You know the ones, where you want to crawl into a warm safe place put a pillow over your head, turn off all phones, in fact all technological devices, insert an IV of any mind numbing fluid and ignore reality until its over. . .

I know that there are millions around that will have had a worse week but this is my blog and dammit I feel like hosting a pity party. . . I do apologise though, feel free to leave and come back when I have lost this shitty outlook on life.

So. . . (Ranting commences). A fellow manager at the bar/restaurant where I work pour my sweat, blood and tears into has had his employment contract terminated due to "serious misconduct" . . . read he is a lying, slimy, lowlife who has been caught with his hands in the till. Prick. I know hate is a useless emotion that is more effort than its worth, but I'm there, I HATE him, in fact I'm seriously considering organising a public stoning. It isn't 'my' business, I have no invested interest in the place, BUT, I have been there since before we opened, I am loyal (possibly too much) to the place, I care about GP's, wage costs, my fellow staff, the owners and the business itself. This thieving low-life has been employed since early in the year, and we think has probably been 'supplementing' his pay since about then. We caught him red handed, after many phone calls, late night meetings, clandestine security measures, and sleepless nights and yet the little chocknob still is not admitting the full extent of his dishonesty. . . even since we have learnt that he has huge debts and a gambling problem. Boofarkenhooo, I have huge debts, and I don't gamble or steal to deal with them. . . I drink.

Anybottleofwine work has been stressful, I had to work for a couple of days with the fallengoldenboy and pretend I didn't want to punch him in the face. The management and staff are all feeling very abused, sad, angry and some of us a little violent.

In the middle of all this I learnt that one of the guys from The Ex's rugby team passed away suddenly. Homer was the absolute salt of the earth, a true friend, loving father and husband. His funeral was testament to how he touched so many lives, and brought many different groups of people together. There was standing room only, tears flowing freely and many touching tribute, including one from his incredibly brave 9 year old daughter which almost brought me to my knees. I didn't know Homer that well, only really from the sidelines of the rugby field and the clubroom's afterwards, but I liked what I knew. I expected to feel sad and cry at the funeral (I am a rent-a-tear) but I expected to also be mainly sad for everyone else that has died in my life, his family and friends, but only in an abstracted, not a close friend way. Instead I realised I will miss him, even on the periphery of my life, Homer, had impacted in a way I hadn't comprehended.

There are some people that come into our lives, leave footprints on our hearts and we are never the same again. Rest In Peace Homer, may you have a rod or rifle in one hand a beer in the other and be standing with loved ones on the big rugby field in the sky.

So all in all this week has sucked. I want to delete it off my hard drive of life and pretend it never happened.

On the upside The Ex (hi!) and I confused his former rugby team and friends by going to the funeral and after match function together, generally supporting each other and getting on really well! It is almost incomprehensible to most how well we get along - although before you think it not in a getting back together way or going back for ex sex way!!. . . if I wasn't living it I wouldn't believe it myself, I've said it before - I'm blessed.