My indecision is final

I used to be indecisive but I'm not so sure now. Ah, the old jokes are the best; my brother has, after all been dining out on them for years.

Today's blog entry is all about those indecisions that you make then decide on an option then change your mind and so on ad infinitum until it becomes either irrelevant or a matter of life and death. Fortunately, the decisions I am faced with tend more to the former category.

Firstly, as previously discussed, the title of my blog. Take a glance at the top of the page and you will see that it still refers to redundancy. I am now gainfully (though part time) employed; dole have washed their hands of me so time to retitle. I have decided to prove that I support the whole principle of democracy and throw open the new title to the public vote, Simon Cowell eat your heart out. Suggestions please to the comments on here, Facebook or, if you know me well enough feel free to email me. Please don't come round knocking at my door at the dead of night to tell me your idea. To add some excitement I have decided to throw all cost to the wind and the person who makes the best suggestion could win an (optional) prize of an autographed photo of me. Contain your excitement, please.

My other indecision I had (note the past tense here) made a full on, no turning back decision on so no democracy here. Remember I was debating the idea of two jobs, 12 hour day? Second job being at Royal Mail doing the Christmas cover? Now, I had decided to give it a go notwithstanding a couple of days I couldn't do, then what happens? I'll tell you what. The buggers write to me and say I won't be needed until 2nd December, some 10 days after my original start date giving me about 10 working days. It's barely worth me getting tired for. I have therefore resigned before I start. The deed poll will be stopped, my name will not be Pat. It does make me wonder though if Royal Mail have lost business for Christmas and they don't see so much of a need for Christmas cover? I'll let you mull that one over yourself, I don't feel the

need to debate my feelings about unions and strike action here.

That's it for my indecision but I haven't finished yet, oh no, I couldn't let you down.

I have been thinking. When I was a kid, what I generally do in my blog would have simply been called a diary (not the sort you keep your meetings and dentist appointments in) and, historically, no one would ever be allowed within 100 feet of your diary let alone read it. This whole blog for the world to see is a bit of a turn about eh?

So to my week. How have you all been? I've been fine thanks for asking. I have noticed though that I've been quite inactive and increasingly rotund of late so I have decided to get my bike out of the shed. I stuck it in the back of the car and went for a ride after work, another bonus of working half day. Weather was OK so I thought it would be rather pleasant to go have lunch at

Witcombe Roman Villa, just a couple of miles from the office. Now, I rather like the villa, it is always peaceful and very picturesque. I have been there many times before although only in the car or by walking across the Cotswold way in dry weather. Never did it occur to me that the access road is, essentially, a working farm track. My bicycle is a lovely slick racing machine with tyres no wider than a gnat's pube. It now looks like a rough old cyclo-cross thing. Still, a pleasant meander, 25ish miles and feeling the affects after not riding for a few weeks. Reminds me of a David Letterman interview with Lance Armstrong after winning his 487th (or thereabouts) Tour de France:

"So Lance, how do you feel after winning the tour again"

"I've got a sore arse Dave"

There ends the similarity.

Yesterday saw me on a night out to see Seasick Steve at the O2 in Birmingham. We took reliable information that the O2 is what was the Carling Academy. It isn't. Although there were a goodly number of other people milling about equally misinformed. Once we found the place, still on time, it was a cracking evening. If you haven't come across the fella before, look him up, listen to his music if you like Southern States blues stuff but either way an interesting biography you can read about it on his website www.seasicksteve.com - some music downloads on there too or a good biog on Wikipedia.

Right, I'm off for now. If you see me tonight in the pitch black with a camera on a tripod in my living room, there's nothing kinky I'll just be taking photos of ghosts on my sofa. Check here again in a couple of days, if it works I'll blog the results. If not, I'll crawl into a corner and sob inconsolably.

Just like waiting for a bus

Although those that know me will realise that I know very little about that to which this title relates. In the last twelve months, the number of times I have caught a bus could be counted on the fingers of one hand. The only reason I caught them then was because I was somewhat incapaitated after breaking my foot (fifth metatarsal if you must know. Apparantly there are footballers who seem to be famous for little other than breaking the same bone). Don't get me wrong, I have nothing in particular against buses if you have no other means of transport or indeed if it is convenient for you. However, I can walk in to Gloucester from where I live and if I want to travel further I own a bicycle and a car which leave at the time I want them leave; from where I am and go to where I want to go not to somewhere vaguely nearby and I never have to get off my bike or out of my car to wait around for another one.

Anyway, I digress, what is like waiting for a bus? Interviews. You wait for ages then two arrive at once.
During my redundancy, apart from successfully applying to train to be a driving instructor (see earlier blogs), I have applied for a number of fairly diverse jobs and this week I have two interviews. First, on Wednesday, I shall be off to Royal Mail to find out if I need to change my name to Pat for the Christmas period. Strange as it may sound, I have always said that if I were redundant over the Christmas period I would love to spend it working as a Christmas relief postman or otherwise Royal Mail employee. I can't explain why, sorry. On top of that, If I can get night shift it might well work well for me.

Second job is a little harder to explain. It is with the NHS. If you are anything like me, you will browse some obscure websites, although in this case I refer to directgov and subsequent links, some of it makes for interesting reading. On this occasion, I found myself on the NHS job pages. I like the NHS. For all its faults, the NHS is, in my opinion, a marvellous organisation and I would be proud to be a part of it if only until I qualify as a driving instructor. So what is odd about this? I hear you ask. I found the job on the website and thought it looked kind of interesting, however, I'm not really sure what the job is. Could be an interesting interview that one. Keep watching, you may read more about it later in the week.

On another note, my busy week just gets busier, I shall be back at Job Centre Plus again on Tuesday to sign on. The ongoing highlight of my unemployment; Yosser Hughes eat your heart out.

I have had a new experience this weekend, one that will possibly live with me for ever. Life changing you could argue. Tina and I have been discussing for some time about hiring a tandem to try. Whilst in Brecon, it came to my attention that Mike and Cat own a tandem so, Saturday night, we rocked up at their house partly to be sociable and partly to have a go. Everybody should try this at least once in their lifetime, I can't remember the last time I laughed so much that wasn't at somebody else's expense. Just one word of advice, if you are on the back of a tandem and your handlebars are attached to the front seatpost, don't try and straighten the bars on the move. Other than Tina trying to kill me, it was a truly enjoyable experience and if anyone has or knows someone with a tandem for sale remarkably cheap, please let me know.

Finally for today, Jayne read my last blog and got unnaturally excited about a mention, so Jayne, this whole paragraph is for you. I don't know how you're going to contain yourself.