Day 310: Mantled

OK then let's get some words down why don't we. In the car back with Steve, we have dismantled what we mantled three days ago. Four hour drive back to Sheffield, munching gas station sandwiches (crumbs on the seats) and drinking fizzy pop, listening to Natalie Imbruglia's Torn at what can only be described as mammoth volumes, chatting about this and that. 

Steve's dad is behind us in the van, we're driving back to the shop, have to unload the aforementioned van, and the van John was using for the other job, when we get back, then load both up for the job to which Steve and his dad are driving at 5am tomorrow. 

I shan't be joining them for that one, I'm opening the pub at 9am. Then a close on Tuesday, then writing my review on Wednesday, then back with Steve dismantling another job on Thursday, then the pub all weekend, then Monday open again, probably Tuesday close, Wednesday review... and maybe a day off some time after that.

That's all going to suck a bit. But, I mean, I'm not working /now/. I'm not suffering /now/. I am in fact being paid now, travelling time is time on the clock, and what I'm doing to earn that pay is: sitting down, slurping fiery ginger beer, typing this, surreptitiously farting into my heated seat (sorry Steve). All is good.

And remember that I've chosen this. I could have told Steve I was too busy to help. I could have said I couldn't do the extra day my manager needed me at the pub this week. I could skip a Wednesday review this Wednesday, or next. I could die and get a nice long sleep for the rest of eternity.

It's my choice to not do any of that. I get so many options, and I choose this.

......

Back home now. Two vans unloaded. Two vans loaded back up. Body complaining. Mind unfurling. Got myself a nice Earl Grey, watered my plants, just need to pop this on my blog and clamber into bed. Yes, those sheets are calling to me. We're done here, you and I. Today is over. Begone with you.