Ran out of things to do, simply because I don't know how to do an awful lot. My immediate supervisor is back off holiday and she seems to be taking an inordinate amount of time to get up to speed. I've described myself as "at the twiddling thumbs stage" twice this morning and it's getting a tad embarrassing. I'd surf the web, but they don't like that here, so I'm blogging instead. Heh.
Went to Pontefract at the weekend. On the bus. Quite an absurd trek, really. The need for a car is rapidly reaching critical mass. It's just such an expensive undertaking, though. The price of petrol is through the roof, the price of insurance makes me cry... And I don't even enjoy driving, that's the stoopid thing. I shall just have to wait for the money to come through from a deal I'm setting up in Nigeria and see what's left over after I have my penis enlarged.
Pontefract's a nice enough place. The some of the locals are a bit rough, though. They lack tact, to be honest. I worked with the long-term unemployed in Pontefract for a few years and I had to develop a thick skin very quickly. It's like working with children: you can almost tell that they're speaking their mind. Such as is.
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