The Superglue Discombobulation

Post CXLVII

Here’s the story of Sun, tiredness, and AWOL crumbs.

I can’t help but wonder why I was so surprised at there being little help regarding glasses superglued to one’s face. I think it’s something the manufacturers didn’t account for. Well, fingers, yeah, sure, people stick them together all the time. I did that after the glasses incident. I tried using tweezers instead of my fingers, but they weren’t much use. You see, the nosepiece of my glasses had snapped off and I tried desperately, and in vein, to stick it back on. I tried using tweezers but nosepieces are made of extremely slippy rubber, so they just kept flying out of the metal grasp. I eventually gave up after coating the glasses with an enormous amount of superglue. Their life had come to an end. I put on the glasses, they stay on with only one nosepiece, and carried on with my day. And then came bedtime. “ARRRRGH! THEY’VE STUCK TO MY NOSE!” I was a man about it. I ripped them off. Hang on, what’s this trickling sensation? “ARRRRGH! I’M BLEEDING! OH, WHAT A WORLD!” Useless old me. Don’t give me superglue. That’s the message here. Among many, I’m sure.

It came off the back of what felt like several hours of cleaning them, which is somewhat ironic. It was a bad day, put it that way. I can’t help it, readers. I’m incredibly tired. I’m not getting any sleep. These recent early starts are killing me. Who knew there was a seven in the morning? Not me, that’s for sure.

I’ve had a fun week at the ol’ radiola factory where I’m working for a few weeks. It’s strange. I’m not used to… work. It’s a difficult environment to get used to as I’m not used to being around people. Being shy makes what everyone else finds easy, being sociable, an impossibility. You try your best to fake it and hope you can get away with the sham. I’m proud of how far I’ve come in a week. I don’t feel myself. Ooh, that’s poorly worded. Oh, boy.

It’s a community radio station, and I’m enjoying the challenge of trying to be human. Everyone thinks I’m weird, but they always do. The boss is a really nice fella, but there are awkward conversation starting moments where my only response is ‘Yeah’, ‘No’ or ‘Mmm’. That creates an awkward silence, one I’m not quite used to, although I think he’s finding humour a good way to get around it. On Friday, he told me, “Have a good weekend and remember, don’t get too drunk – I don’t want to see you flat out on your face in the town centre!” He was joking, but things like that are nice to hear. I may be devoid of all confidence, but it’s nice that someone else has some in me. I mean, would you trust me to design a poster for your radio station? Because I sure as hell wouldn’t.

It’s been nice getting to meet all the DJ’s who are all volunteers and wonderful people. The two other people I’m there with are equally as nice and great to talk to. It doesn’t feel like ‘work’, and that’s the main thing. It’s good for me. Although I do worry what will become of me when it’s all over. Back to the daily grind of nothingness, and an immediate reversal of all the good interpersonal development. Ah, well, that’s life. Never stops crapping on you. But it’s sunny, so I shall attempt to be sunny also. I don’t know how to convey ‘sunniness’ in a sentence, so you’ll have to take my word for it that I am, indeed, sunny. Woo.

It has been rather nice, weather wise, lately. I’m not a fan of sunshine, it makes you sweat, and renders your clothes useless. But the cold is also not in my good books because it causes the ground to ice over and my neck to come perilously close to snapping as I fall over about once every ten yards. I just don’t like weather, but since I’m being sunny, I’ll leave this negative train behind. See? All sunny, sunny, sunny.

They actually have a Sun room at the station. Clear roof. Lovely in the heat. It’s like a Turkish sauna without the nudity. Yet. I meet many interesting characters in there, including one DJ whom happened to be a priest. About twenty crosses around his neck. One leg. Diabetes took it. So he is on the large side. I met him at noon. He had a half drunk bottle of beer on him, his third of the day, and wasn’t even tipsy. Must say, that was quite an eye-opening experience.

I’ve enjoyed feeling like an adult for once, which is a good thing considering I’m nearly 24. Getting the bus each morning, running the arm risk and then trying to find a seat near a bell so I can alert the driver to stop, hoping nobody will sit next to me meaning I can’t get off because most of the people who sit next to me are old and deaf. But if you shout, everyone thinks you’re crazy for shouting at an elderly person. Best to be patient. Do you want me to explain ‘arm risk’? Not sure if I should. It’s fairly obvious, right? No? Ah, okay.

You see, in the UK, to stop a public bus, you must hold out your arm so the driver knows to stop and pick you up. To go on the bus. Not, not to hit on you. Unless she’s real pretty. But think about that for a mo. What if there’s traffic in front of the bus? If you hold out your arm, you run the risk of it being lopped off by a passing truck. But if you don’t hold your arm out, you can’t stop the bus. Enter the exciting world of ‘arm risk’. It’s a real gamble, made all the more exciting by the fact I’m left handed. Of course, we drive on the correct side of the road here in the UK, meaning the arm I stick out is the one I do all the fun stuff with. Lose that, what’s the point in carrying on?

I’m very tired. A tiredness I’ve never felt before. I’m constantly falling asleep, and the worst part is that my body is being a bitch. I normally switch my light off around one in the morn. But I’ve been going to bed early recently so I’ll be fresh and awake. But my body isn’t used to it, so it won’t go to sleep until one in the morn. And it’s refusing to get used to it. I’ve tried everything, but nothing will work.

I knew it was gonna be a difficult week on Monday when I had to have my breakfast toast on paper towels because we ran out of clean plates. I got a hole in it sprinkling the sofa with a sea of crumbs. And the week ended with my nosepiece going AWOL. But in-between was a challenge I like to think I’m rising to. And hopefully, will continue to rise to.

I just need to remember not to glue my glasses to my face again…

English writer and essayist, Charles Lamb (1775-1834), once said: “I always arrive late at the office, but I make up for it by leaving early.”

Peace Out :|:


I’d love to hear your thoughts on this post. You can leave a comment and/or like this post below, or by clicking the title on the top of this post if you are on the archives page. Likes and follows greatly appreciated. Thanks.


Please feel free check out the latest posts from my other two blogs:

To Contrive & Jive
New Posts Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday
Click Here to Read the Latest Post

Hark Around The Words
New Posts Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday
Click Here to Read the Latest Post


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