I am hopelessly addicted. I mean I know I am about 3ish years behind but so far in the week just gone (last week), I have managed to get through twenty forty-minute episodes of LOST season one. I only watched one episode streamed online just to see what all the fuss was and of course to have something to watch whilst I ate my dinner in work. Luckily, Andy has all 3 seasons on his hardrive so I was able to get them all with relative ease. So the week just gone was a whole mixed bags of emotions (no not LOST, the real world) I handed in my resignation on Tuesday evening, once everyone had left for the night, so didn’t expect anything to be said until I was in work the next day. I arrived Wednesday morning and it was all kinda normal. Charlotte gave me a sad face and Tim said that we should talk, but it wasn’t until 8.30pm with thirty minutes of my shift left, that we spoke. He told me that everything was cool, I explained to him how this was just not something I wanted to do and he told me how he had been told by London that he shouldn’t pay for my flights home but that he was going to anyway. This is a testament to him as a boss as he is a really nice guy and understood a lot. He told me that the bosses in London expected me to work out a notice period but that if it was reversed that as I wasn’t under contract they could let me go at any time, so it was fine for me to leave on the Friday evening. Too fucking right!
So Wednesday night I was feeling pretty relieved but also in a weird place, as I knew I had done the right thing, yet still doubted my decision. I met up with Nikki whom I had met in Utrecht the Friday prior and preceded to get horrendously drunk with her. It ended with us asleep in the park at about 2am blasting out music on my iplayer. It was great again to be hanging with someone I didn’t work with and she told me that if it’s not right then getting out is the best thing I could do. Life is well too short to waste my time at a place where I am not appreciated.
I awoke for work at 10.30am with thirty minutes to go and a banging head and no time to get clean. Thursday evening came round and one of Glassworks clients, Wyden and Kennedy the advertising agency, was having an opening of its new art space. As is customary in these situations, there was enough free booze to feed the Glaswegian alcoholics and some serious industry networking that just makes me feel so uncomfortable. Post indulgence we headed to Bitterzuit for Noelle’s birthday party and as a result on the way home I fell off my bike into a wall and was unable to ride home as everything was wobbly around me. I headed to work and slept in the smoke suite there which also meant I didn’t have anywhere to travel to make it to work.
Awoke at 9.15am with the sounds of people in production and the disorientation of passing out in a semi-unfamiliar place. The rest of my last day at Glassworks which shot by, was spent with an acidy feeling in my stomach and the thoughts of impending death to my liver and general bowels. I finished at 7.00pm with an awesome sense of relief and a burden lifted from my shoulders that later on would become even more poignant. I raced home to shower and met everyone back in Banks bar next to work just as the Netherlands Vs France game was about to begin. John who I work with had a friend visiting and they both made so much annoying noise that Andy left at halftime and made me wish Gaz and Keg were back in town again so we could go watch the game with the punks. The Dutch annihilated the French just like they did with Italy and with every goal Frank the owner who we all know brought out shots. Post game I met Katie who worked downstairs in the sound studio and we went to a dubstep night at the Melkweg. Yet again I was proved that any club trying to do something that is big in London, outside of it fails quite miserably and that also Dutch clubs kinda suck. I again missed the tension and general feeling from cubs in London as it's all so safe here. Even though I had quit Glassworks, I still had a key for the offices so went back to get a can of coke and to read my emails at around 4.30am. I decided to get covert and read Hannah, the receptionists sent emails and Also Tim the bosses, to satisfy my curiosity on what London had said abut me leaving and also what they had said to each other. Doing this kinda shocked my slightly but also made me realise that in doing this I was completely vindicated in leaving and getting the fuck out of the company. I won’t divulge details here but I feel so let down that if maybe I wasn’t working as well as I could have that she should have told me rather than send bitchy emails to her friend in London. So glad to be free of these empty people who are essentially dull and who live for work and nothing else.
Saturday evening I met up with Nikki again and we spent the night hanging out and having fun. I introduced her to R Kelly’s ‘Trapped in the closet’, which as anyone should know, is actual genius. We finally got some sleep around 6am with my mind firmly set that this summer is going to be another classic.
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