After a spot of brekkie I went off to see a counsellor. Bearing in mind all the unpleasantness of the last year, my new boss felt that seeing a counsellor might help me. Not wishing to appear negative I thought I'd give it a go.
We met in a darkened room (which I didn't like), and she asked me what had prompted me to seek counselling. I told it like it was. We chatted for a bit; and the counsellor felt that I might benefit from writing down what had happened, and my feelings about the matter. So here we go.
Perhaps I should give this counselling a chance. Perhaps I'm not the kind of guy who blathers platitudes. But I do need to stop wallowing in self-pity. To be fair to myself I'm doing it less and less with time. I expect I shall get over it.
And then to Tesco. Over the last few weeks I've been doing on-line surveys and my Tesco vouchers (as a thank-you) arrived. So I went to get some trousers that actually fitted. Tesco's didn't have much choice - they now seem to be geared up to shorts rather than trousers, but I got a pair. The last set of trousers I bought was a forty-four inch waist; today's was a thirty-eight. Which is a positive thing I suppose. I shall tell the counsellor lady about it next time (!)
The sun was shining, so I bombarded Bond Road with catalogues. And so home - "Daddies Little Angel TM" was home with Sid. She was tidying the kitchen; which was another thing I should be grateful for. And as she carried on tidying, I got my painting stuff out. Not oils and canvases this time: fences. The front garden fence needed doing. Over the years I think that rain water has got into the fence paint: it did seem to be rather runny. But I got the fence done. And then I got the bikes out from under the tarpaulin I'd bodged over them and pumped up their tyres in readiness for next week's inaugural cycle ride.
The phone rang. Someone with the thickest Indian accent you ever did hear (claiming to be called Michael) was ringing to sort out my PPI claim. That was nice. It was about the loan I'd taken out in 2003, but for security purposes could I tell him who I'd had the loan with. Bearing in mind that this was an unsolicited cold caller and I had not taken out any such loan, I called his bluff. I told him that if he was truly working on my behalf he'd know who my loan was with, and he could tell me. Michael was quite adamant that I had to tell him, and he actually kept talking over me every time I asked him who this loan was with. In the end I shouted at him. I told him to actually close his mouth and listen. He shut up. I told him that if his company wasn't a bunch of con men he would tell me who this supposed loan was with. And failure on his part to tell me that information was an admission on his part that he was a con man. That foxed him. He still refused to tell me what company he thought I'd taken a loan from. He did give me three possibilities, and would I choose from one of them. Needless to say I'd not had a loan from any of the companies he listed. Therefore this bloke was a con man; and he was in the embarrassing position of being unable to deny the fact.
I spent the rest of the afternoon designing a website for a colleague. I wonder if there might be any mileage in "Badger Web Designs"? And then, being the last Wednesday of the month it was arky-ologee club. Tonight was billed as members talks. We started off with the club's youngest member talking about William Shakespeare. Young Anthony is over thirty years younger than the club's second-youngest member, and he gave a really good talk. Wayne then spoke about the bronze age horde he found a few months ago, and the evening was wound up with a talk about the pubs of Ashford; illustrated with bottles and flagons from the local inns and hostelries from two centuries ago.
That's two consecutive meetings of the arky-ologee club taht have been worth going to.
We met in a darkened room (which I didn't like), and she asked me what had prompted me to seek counselling. I told it like it was. We chatted for a bit; and the counsellor felt that I might benefit from writing down what had happened, and my feelings about the matter. So here we go.
Perhaps I should give this counselling a chance. Perhaps I'm not the kind of guy who blathers platitudes. But I do need to stop wallowing in self-pity. To be fair to myself I'm doing it less and less with time. I expect I shall get over it.
And then to Tesco. Over the last few weeks I've been doing on-line surveys and my Tesco vouchers (as a thank-you) arrived. So I went to get some trousers that actually fitted. Tesco's didn't have much choice - they now seem to be geared up to shorts rather than trousers, but I got a pair. The last set of trousers I bought was a forty-four inch waist; today's was a thirty-eight. Which is a positive thing I suppose. I shall tell the counsellor lady about it next time (!)
The sun was shining, so I bombarded Bond Road with catalogues. And so home - "Daddies Little Angel TM" was home with Sid. She was tidying the kitchen; which was another thing I should be grateful for. And as she carried on tidying, I got my painting stuff out. Not oils and canvases this time: fences. The front garden fence needed doing. Over the years I think that rain water has got into the fence paint: it did seem to be rather runny. But I got the fence done. And then I got the bikes out from under the tarpaulin I'd bodged over them and pumped up their tyres in readiness for next week's inaugural cycle ride.
The phone rang. Someone with the thickest Indian accent you ever did hear (claiming to be called Michael) was ringing to sort out my PPI claim. That was nice. It was about the loan I'd taken out in 2003, but for security purposes could I tell him who I'd had the loan with. Bearing in mind that this was an unsolicited cold caller and I had not taken out any such loan, I called his bluff. I told him that if he was truly working on my behalf he'd know who my loan was with, and he could tell me. Michael was quite adamant that I had to tell him, and he actually kept talking over me every time I asked him who this loan was with. In the end I shouted at him. I told him to actually close his mouth and listen. He shut up. I told him that if his company wasn't a bunch of con men he would tell me who this supposed loan was with. And failure on his part to tell me that information was an admission on his part that he was a con man. That foxed him. He still refused to tell me what company he thought I'd taken a loan from. He did give me three possibilities, and would I choose from one of them. Needless to say I'd not had a loan from any of the companies he listed. Therefore this bloke was a con man; and he was in the embarrassing position of being unable to deny the fact.
I spent the rest of the afternoon designing a website for a colleague. I wonder if there might be any mileage in "Badger Web Designs"? And then, being the last Wednesday of the month it was arky-ologee club. Tonight was billed as members talks. We started off with the club's youngest member talking about William Shakespeare. Young Anthony is over thirty years younger than the club's second-youngest member, and he gave a really good talk. Wayne then spoke about the bronze age horde he found a few months ago, and the evening was wound up with a talk about the pubs of Ashford; illustrated with bottles and flagons from the local inns and hostelries from two centuries ago.
That's two consecutive meetings of the arky-ologee club taht have been worth going to.
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