Wednesday, 4 July 2012

At the manual handling training day...

Catchy title eh?

Surprised you're reading on if I'm honest!

My day began at 0600 hours with a daunting din from my mobile phone telling me 'just get up now, don't snooze me for 45 sodding minutes like usual'. 
45 sodding minutes later I got out of bed with my cat Harry flashing me a look which seemed to say 'please leave my bedroom in a quiet and orderly fashion, thanks dear'. (I'm pretty sure this would be said in a camp voice).
Cats are hard to read, their facial expressions can be interpreted as ecstatic and murderous in one glance. One thing is certain, their definition of the word 'snooze' is a whole lot different from ours.

I struggle with training days.
Social phobia/anxiety is my particular weakness and one I have now learnt to use to my advantage. This blog is born out of my need to get away from people in that annoying yet necessary hour of the day we call lunch break. Don't misunderstand me, I am happy to fit in and small talk...but doing this for a whole hour without a glass of wine in my hand is tantamount to torture.

Anyway, on training courses I am concerned with the absolute necessity of escape. I have been known to circumnavigate the globe in my attempt to avoid human contact with strangers, I have returned from the allotted lunch break time covered in mosquito bites with jet lag and a tropical disease. On the positive side I had crossed 6 time zones so when I returned It was last Thursday.

Deep breath...

"Hello, which department do you work in"?




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