I need to be more productive. I know we all feel this way when we realise that we’re useless wastes of space (some of us more than others, I mean you are definitely a useless waste of space), sitting scrolling endlessly on Instagram, looking at things we weren’t even interested in to begin with. However, I definitely need to be more productive. Currently unemployed and living on my mum’s sofa, I didn’t get up until 12:00. I then spent the next two and a half hours drinking coffee and playing piano.
At this point, you may be thinking “unemployed and sleeping on mum’s sofa and yet you have a piano. Such odd conflicting details, the sofa must be a luxurious thing set in the grand confines of an illustrious manor house.” Then you might consider rising up and dragging me from my decadence and hanging me from a lamp post as you ransack the neighbourhood, taking what you have always been denied. Though that’s assuming a lot on my part, you may be part of the aristocracy and therefore thinking “only one piano? what a fucking pleb.”
In truth, my mum lives in social housing and my electric piano is in my dad’s dining room. I bought it many years ago on finance, paying £130 a month. I say I bought it, my dad bought it on finance for £130 a month under the assumption that I’d one day become a concert pianist and earn back said money and more. This didn’t happen because I’m a lazy fuck. I got to grade 4, attempted my grade 5 but took the wrong book to the exam. The syllabus (is that the right word?) was changing the following year, so I had that book. I got midway through my third piece only to be stopped by the examiner. I assumed he had seen such greatness in me that he was set on passing me there and then with distinction, I might even get a medal.
Alas, he pointed out that it wasn’t 2006 yet. We carried on anyway because I was there so may as well. Unfortunately, the second issue I had was I hadn’t practised because grade pieces are so monumentally dull, and I kept getting distracted by Star Wars pieces. So, needless to say, I failed. I subscribe to the theory that, if at first you don’t succeed, you should focus on getting drunk instead. Although I was fifteen at the time and nowhere would serve me.
Anyway, I forget where I was going with this. Oh yes. Now you might be thinking “two hours piano practice, that’s productive.” And yes, it would be, if I was a professional pianist or some sort of music teacher. As it was, it meant I spent two hours tinkling when I could have been applying for jobs, trying to woo a potential mate and start a family or work on yet another novel or television script to be rejected over and over again.
The problem is, as you may be aware, I am easily distracted. I lack the focus many of you have in spades. My brain at times is being pulled in several different directions, but is more often than not, lost in some sludge lamenting all my past mistakes that were often caused by my easily bored brain.
My unemployment is due to being fired from my job in IT support. It was a strange job for me to be in, considering I had no IT background or qualifications (or interest for that matter). I didn’t even interview for a job in IT, I interviewed for a job in cash planning (something I’d be equally unqualified to do). The interview went terribly. When asked how good my maths is I said ‘very’. When asked on the spot to work out 12.5% of 25,000 I laughed and said, ‘I jest, I got a D in GCSE maths.’
I received a phone call a few days later to say I would not be offered that job. I thought that was the right decision on their part. Then they said, ‘fancy working in IT instead?’ I didn’t, but I needed money.
Two years later I was finding myself increasingly bored of IT support and filling my days with mischief. I used the company’s internal messaging software to instigate officewide rap battles. Though I soon grew bored of even that. Alas, the office did not and eventually word got out and I was handed a 30-page transcript of one 6 hour rap battle by HR. I feel I was treated unfairly as I was gone by page 2 and they were asking me whether I thought what was said on page 23 was acceptable. At which point I referred them to page 2 that said I had left the conversation. They said this was irrelevant. I argued it was extremely relevant as I was not present on the page they were asking me about, rendering my opinion on its acceptability moot.
I was fired. In the appeal process, the managing director read out some of the rap. I found that hilarious and got the giggles. When quizzed on my one and only input in which I called someone fat I said, ‘I was merely using the rhetoric of rap, to make a satirical point.’
The MD said, ‘I don’t understand?’
I said, ‘If you don’t understand irony, then I cannot help you, I simply haven’t got the time.’ Which of course was a lie, as I’d just been fired so had all the time in the world. Then I added ‘Plus the guy in question is proper fat’.
The dismissal was upheld.
Since then I have struggled to find a stable job, as companies are rarely advertising for a rap battle MC. I’ve worked in marketing as a freelance copywriter and in a pub, where I’d regularly steal beer and argue with customers that making the Doctor in Doctor Who a woman is a perfectly sound idea as it opens the way for further diversity. Plus, Doctor Who was shit intended for children that had somewhat stagnated anyway, so a middle-aged man complaining they were changing the sex of the main character was a touch ridiculous.
What was I talking about?
Right. Productivity. Even this blog lacks any sort of focus. It started as a collection of shitty drawings and evolved into the mess it is today. A fellow blog person has been writing a series of blogs about his local museum and how it’s shit despite the fact that his local museum has a mummy. My local museum has a toilet and a plaque that says Henry the VIII once visited one of the schools as he passed through. That’s not particularly noteworthy. He regularly travelled through Hertfordshire and being king basically meant he owned everywhere, so he’d regularly just barge into places to see what was going on. Don’t get that from Elizabeth II, do you? I mean, I do. I regularly wake up to see her looming over me, shaking her head in disappointment. Judgemental bitch.
Henry the VIII is probably my favourite monarch. He’s pretty much everyone’s favourite monarch. Even staunch anti-royalists have a soft spot for the fat prick. He went head to head with the pope (so, in a way, God) just because he wanted to divorce his wife. It’s a shame that his son was such a terrible king. Not morrally, just physically. He was a sickly boy and died at the age of fifteen. What a fucking loser. I’ve lived longer than that. What followed was a bit of a mess.
Much pressure was put on a dying Edward (for that was his name) to name an heir in order to render Mary and Elizabeth illegitimate. Someone should have told them this was a stupid idea as we obviously have the Elizabethan times so that clearly wasn’t going to work. So a poor lady named Lady Jane Grey was made heir and proclaimed Queen (disputed) of England and Ireland. She went on to have one of the more humorous of queeny names “The 9 Days Queen“. She was queen for less time than any of the Game of Thrones lot. In a continuing GoT theme, her supporters swiftly abandoned her and she was tried for treason by Mary I, who had the more intimidating moniker “Bloody Mary” primarily due to her drinking problem.
Anyway, the point is, this fellow blog person actually puts effort into his (or her?) blogs, with outings to said museum, pictures and research. I just ramble on for ages without having an actual point. So, from now on, I plan to be more productive. You’ll see… you’ll all see.