Who is She?

Today in work I was in the canteen stuffing my face with bags of crisps. I'm putting on weight in this job. It's all the sitting at a desk bored and talking to people on the phone who don't want to talk to me but have to. I think my targets are down, I spend too long on the phone and I'm not speaking to enough people.

While I was sitting there this girl came up to me and asked me if I remembered her from a party we were at last year. I stared for ages and I could tell she wanted me to remember her. I said yes, hoping that I could work out who she was as we went along. She said that she was twenty now, and she'd be turning twenty one later in the year.

She had a miserable look on her face, and I noticed she'd self harm marks on her arms. I think it must be shit to have scars on your arms and shit from self harm. I knew a girl at school who had a huge (and strange) crush on BA Baracus and scored his name into her arms with scissors. Now when she gets a tan she looks like a walking advert for the A-Team. I saw her a few years ago and she told me that it was pure shit because she didn't even fancy BA anymore.

I said to the girl that she should invite me to her birthday because it was about time we were at another cool party together. She started to cry and said she knew I didn't remember.

That's all I need, crap targets, off sick, making people cry. They'll fire my ass for sure. Who was she?

I'm Sick

Yesterday I went for a big long walk to clear my head and I think I stayed out too long because today I've been sneezing and coughing and bringing up nasty green spit.

I took the cough bottle and sat having a good old wheeze to myself. One of the sweaty metallers called round about something or other, I'm not sure what, but I made him kiss my hand, and he asked if he could lick my fingers.

I told him no.

He fucked off after that and Fabian Wildman told me he thinks there's trouble brewing.

I asked him to fetch me some scissors because I needed to defend myself in my weak state.

He reminded me that's why we have a big mean dog, and I reminded him that Battle Cat was a gentle soul and liked to play and not bite anyone.

He relented and brought me scissors, but he took hours to find them. In the end I refused them because I don't really trust myself with them.

I boked in a glass beside my bed and threw it out my window onto the street below. Nasty business being sick.