After sitting in the same place for almost two years we finally did The Big Move and shifted Play magazine across the office. It was a long, hard slog but we finally made it to the end of our huge journey, all of about five metres away.
I damn near broke my back, what with the company refusing to spring for a pack mule to carry my tons of stuff. But somehow, some way I managed to lift and move four boxes of magazines and some small gaming-related toys. I also managed – somehow, some way – to roll my chair to my new desk. It was harrowing.
But it’s strange how something as simple as a move of such a small (epic) distance can make you look at things so differently. Mainly because I see the office from a different angle now.
But it really opens you up, an act so simple (and epic) as moving – it broadens your horizons in strange ways. Mainly because I’ve got more desk space now.
But it does odd things that you wouldn’t expect, such a simple (epic) move as this, like it brings you closer to your fellow man and helps you bond with others suffering through the human condition. Mainly because I’m not trapped behind a partition and sit right next to new people now.
I’ll stop being hilarious now. We shall have to see how sitting right next to the kitchen pans out though. I’ve already introduced a new rule for those using the area. It’s called: SHUT UP.
It just dawned on me this morning that I’ve lived in Bournemouth for over a year now – I moved down here on July 30 last year, just to take some of the attention away from my brother’s birthday. Oh, and because I got a job doing what I actually wanted to do, rather than being paid very little for writing about things I have no interest in or care about in the slightest. Or working in a shop. No, now I get paid very little to do something I am both interested in and enjoy.
It was tough coming down here, I have to admit. I didn’t enjoy living in Manchester as much as I would have hoped – I just don’t get on very well with the city, it’s too big for me. But I didn’t want to leave the north. Not because of any stupid north/south daftness, but because it’s up there where all my friends are and where my girlfriend is.
But hey, sod all that right? I made a Dransfield Move and did something to suit myself rather than anybody else. I now hardly see my friends from oop north and I only see my girlfriend sporadically. She’s here right now though, which is nice. MAKE ME SAUSAGE AND EGG, WOMAN(na).
But the year has gone in – as cliché as it may be – the blink of an eye. In fact, it’s gone so fast that I still don’t feel I’ve really settled down here or can call this place home of any sort. It doesn’t help that I am just an empty vessel of working, eating and sleeping, I must admit. Maybe the second year will be easier, and I’ll be able to actually go out and stuff? I mean, I’ve lived here 366-and-a-bit days but I haven’t ever been to a nightclub in the town. That’s just weird. The closest I’ve been is a late-night karaoke bar. Hmm.
Anyway, this isn’t going anywhere, it’s just a blog made up of my train of thought, re-arranged to make it more palatable to other humans. As you were.
It would appear I forgot to do an update yesterday. A combination of drinking and arguing with Anna as to which of us had to phone the pizza place was certainly to blame. I can only apologise, and promise you a double update today. Starting with this one. YEAH.
I am currently moving flat. It’s a difficult situation, as everyone who has ever moved house will know. But this is made easier by the fact that I only have to drag my tons (and tons) of shite downstairs to my new abode. It is a self-contained flat in the same house I currently live in. It costs more, but I’m willing to take that hit on my finances for somewhere I don’t have to share a kitchen and bathroom with housemates I do not like being around.
I’ve ranted about them before with the door-slamming and pettiness, but some of that has actually changed. The one most responsible for door-slamming was kicked out by the landlord – probably for door-slamming – and it’s actually his room/flatlet/bedsit I’m moving into.
Yes, folks: I am moving into what could very easily be described as a bedsit. I am one of those grotty scrotes who lives in a shithole because it’s all he can afford (even though we all know that with a bit of effort and patience it’s quite easy to find somewhere nice to live, even when you don’t have much money to spend). I am also, according to Anna, like James Herriot. I think he lived in a bedsit at one point in his made up life. So yes, I have turned into a vet on a twee television show that I used to watch as a child.
Right. Back to lugging things around. Again, apologies for yesterday’s lack of update. There will be a second one later today, quite probably a review of Clash of the Titans 3D: Titans Will Clash in Three Dimensions. Can’t wait.