So we got home and as there was no Ru Paul ( strange break in the season) we watched a bit of throw away tv and had an early night. I'm always shattered on a Saturday from the early start.
Sunday.We got the Cotgrave and were the only ones on it to the meadows, when one bloke got on.
We walked up to Parliament street to get the 58. The driver of which was waiting to get on. He was talking to another driver ( loudly!) He said I f***ing hate this job. Which I get, but do you know how awful it sounded? In front of the people paying your wages? I spent many years hating every minute at work, until I moved stores, but I never said in front of any customers that I didn't like it. These days I enjoy my work which is down to the majority of people I work with, and if you hate it that much you shouldn't do it.
Not one person that got on that bus when he had swapped over with the other driver said anything. I normally say good morning or thanks as I get off. But, I thought, no you know what mate if you hate it that much you'll reap what you sow... I'm not going to waste my breath. It's all a matter of perspective if you hate what you do you'll just be miserable for 39 hours a week which is a lot of time to feel that bad. Walk away and get a life. But I guess it pays your way so that's why you do it. Change your attitude and you might find something good about it... I will bet he is a regular sick note, ringing in with finger ache at every chance he gets. We all know one of those, plays the system and knows all the loopholes...
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