Thursday: Whenever someone makes a judgement about you... you instantly make a judgement about them. This can be done with both persons not even realising it.
I thought P.T. was going to contribute to some of my workout debt this week... because obviously I got in the shit, got tired and neglected some of it. But anyway, I just had 10 minutes of cardio I wanted to shake off, but what did we do? Football. Yeah I ran around a bit but it never really compares, you know? So all it did was half satisfy me, I changed the ten minutes cardio into ten minutes weights because at least I did some cardio. I like to keep it balanced, cardio and weights, makes you decent at fitness all round. You know you got people who are amazing at weights, but their thighs rub together when they walk so they can’t run anywhere. And you got people who can run, do press-ups, but as soon as it comes to chest-pressing 10Kg’s they snap in half [because they’re light and built for cardio]. And there’s me, somewhere in the middle... crap at both. That’s great, isn’t it? The consequence of indecisiveness, that is.
Anyway, I had Corporal Welshie [he’s Welsh. I don’t like welsh, mainly because people think I’m welsh sometimes... Hereford being so close to Wales] give me a semi-bollucking/lecture/understanding thing where he’s having a go at me but trying to be my friend. He doesn’t pull it off; maybe he should just decide... be a twat or a mate, don’t try and be both because then you fuck both up and I don’t respect you. Anyway, the quote that gets me is him saying “Anyone out there [the kitchen] would say I’m not a twat” and I just had to keep a straight face, try my best not to laugh. Everyone up and down the chain of command think he’s exactly that, a twat. Sure the higher ranks can tell him that, but if I do I’m in even more shit and it’s not worth it. So I swear at them, but it doesn’t reach my mouth... I’m just thinking and staring “I wonder what colour knife I should stab you with. Red for raw meat I would have thought”.
I also had a lecture on not calling for stuff that was running out on the hotplate. I fucking was, but you trying getting through to these bastards. I’d call for something, they say “yeah, alright” and I know they’re doing fuck all back there because it’s not coming out. Okay, I would acknowledge I forgot to call the veg... but 1. how can I expect to get veg replenished when you’re not replenishing the protein choices? And 2. I’d only acknowledged my faults if you acknowledged yours. You know what I mean? Why’s it only me who has to look like a twat, you know? You try telling them, it goes straight over their heads and they ignore you.
“You should be calling stuff out”
“I am/was”
“Yeah, but you got nothing on the hotplate so you should be calling it out for us to replen it”
and if I didn’t shut up we’d just go round like that until I got AGAI’d. but just because I stop repeating myself doesn’t mean I agree they’re right. I just know it’s futile repeating myself and having them acknowledge THEY fucked up. Corporals can’t admit that though, even. Never to a lower rank, they’re the product supervisor so they can’t fuck up if you know what I mean. So it’s the Privates who fuck up... fuck off. They also accused me of not having the balls to call stuff out... now that just pisses me off because it’s a straight out lie. Come Dinner time I went fucking bezerk with an announcements tone and took the piss by blazing my voice through the kitchen “COTTAGE PIIIIIE! WE NEED COTTAGE PIIIIIIIE! I HAVE 4 COTTAGE PIE LEEEEEEFT!” and I shit you not. Of course I had a lecture to not shout so loud... you know what I think to that? Fuck off. Because there’s no such thing as a perfect medium to these fuckers.
Foodwise I didn’t do much myself, actually. I was Duty Chef so I got all the signs and service kit and all the ‘behind the scenes’ details sorted... and maybe help out veg. But I still managed to scive in the toilet a bit when no one gave me a job. Just a little 20 minute nap in a cubical. Hey, when you’re that tired you go anywhere. I don’t give a fuck.
So I locked up, went to the gym... only managed to do half which means more for the weekend. Bed disappointed, up early tomorrow. Woo...

Friday: “Chuck it in a bucket, ‘n’ fuck it” – Me
Corporal Nobbie isn’t living up to his name at the moment, he’s being nice again. He reckons that my attitude changed overnight after being bollucked early in the week... I don’t feel I’ve changed at all, only his perception of me has changed. But whatever. I was in for earlies, got about 3-4 hours of actual sleep and did quite a bit of work... but I’m still not doing any of the major jobs which is still annoying me. I asked to do eggs for my NVQ, I wasn’t on eggs [for breakfast]. I was told if I did a cheese sauce I’d get that signed off, but then Nobbie finished it off for me after I made a brilliant start to it so I couldn’t get that signed off. And I got told at 1000hrs that if I did x-so jobs I’d be allowed to go. I did x-so jobs and was still around until 1200hrs. I’m not complaining because the actual shift doesn’t finish until 1400 after lunch service... but there is that feeling that if you’re told something that doesn’t end up happening, you’d rather not be told at all, you know? Then you don’t hope and get disappointed. Come 1130 I didn’t think it was going to happen and I’d be stuck there until service end. But I managed to get my scoff and back to bed to rest a good 3 hours to both recover sleep loss and put me in a better state to do cardio at the gym. It was a bit of a struggle but ultimately no actual problems to hold me back and I got it all done... which was good, I was worried I’d only be able to do 40 minutes and that would mean another 20 minutes added on for the weekend, you know? I do an [average] 5 hours of workout a week, that’s a lot considering the hours I work and everything that goes on around me. There’s also the whole – ensuring you’re in a fit state to do the workout – well slept and all that shit which I’m not always and that’s what leads to problems. But anyway, after that and a scoff, I just monged around and played on my laptop. Start sorting my life out tomorrow. Night.

Gathered notes and rants:
I haven’t mentioned that I’m getting my kit finally issued at 1000hrs, 2nd June... which turns out to the a Tuesday and my first day of leave. But that’s okay, come Monday when I finish work, it would be too late to try and get home anyway. So what’s the solution? It’s not to reschedule the date because I’ve waited ages to get this far with them anyway... it’s to wake up, have breakfast, get my shit packed, go to the gym, shower, pack more shit if needed THEN get my shit... then fuck off. Me smart. Very.
When I visited Sarah, I know I was a bit blasphemous around her because I kinda couldn’t help it. “If God is everywhere, is he in that bin?” and we talked of how we hope there’s at least spiritual barriers around toilets and bathrooms. I may be blatantly a heathen to her, but she probably pities me for that. XP
Here’s something I don’t entirely understand with some people. When they do mental stuff to a laugh, it’s funny. But when I do something not all too dissimilar, it’s just plain weird. You know what I say? Fuck off and leave me to it. Hypocrites.
What happens when people stop getting sick via modern medicine? People [usually the next generation whose immune to that illness] get more allergies. People now seem to live longer, but suffer longer too. Doesn’t make much sense really, they may not like it... but it’s better for them and us to let the drains on society die if they just suffer and complain.
When you treat someone like an asshole long enough, they eventually become one [probably because you’re being a dick to them, they return the favour]. When you treat someone like a retard long enough, they eventually become one [like people make things easy for me by helping me too much and having me do the shit jobs. I savour the easy life while it lasts. But then I get accustomed to it... once you then depend on me, suddenly my jump into action style is delayed by my slothness].
What does Britain do best? I’ll tell you. British people have and instinctive knack to que, and que well. I noticed it recently... in bars, in the food court on camp... no arguments and no complaints... just get on with it. Or maybe that’s the squaddies attitude “just get on with it”.
One thing I hate about women [one thing of many] is that I read in the papers about a month back about a skank who dressed to show [you know what I mean], who got drunk, slept with an innocent person and then claimed rape because she was embarrassed. The guy got off [thankfully] because he thought it was genuine, he was genuine, he also had a couple of drinks so why’s it suddenly his responsibility to decide if this woman is fit to make her own mind up. This is a classic case of women who have problems accepting responsibility for their actions. But I want to talk about something specific... what I hate most of all, is the sluts who ‘dress to show’ and then become offended when we [men] notice what it is they’re showing off. Seriously, if you don’t want us to see it, maybe you could cover up? Just a thought you fuckheads. Some women don’t like to be men’s trophies, don’t dress or act like one then.
Oh, and I suspect Queer boy has started a rumour saying I have a big cock. I’m neither flattered nor offended; it’s not as big as he’s predicted. Not that he’ll ever see it. I actually get a couple laughs leaving women unsatisfied anyway. In bed they’re either picky or lazy. I tell them to get a dildo and go fuck themselves, ‘cuz it’s not my aim to satisfy them but to satisfy myself ‘using’ them. I know it’s cruel, but I don’t care anymore.

Weekend: “No such thing as premature ejaculation. Women just can’t keep up” – Not me.
Slept in, missed breakfast. Laundry.
Laundry interrupted by beer fest. Wasn’t really that enjoyable, I’d rather have gone out out.
From now on though, when asked if going out, my first question’s gunna be how I’m geting back because 3rd time in a row been abandoned. This time I nearly didn’t have enough money for a taxi even, good thing I got a lift though. I got lift from someone else, but I was skint. No money on me. Back early enough. I also got hungry near the end but I wanted to keep the money I had left in case I needed it, you know? I was going to nick a burger but there were too many people around at the time. By the time it was clear it was gone... but I still managed to swipe a bag of quavers. I’m getting good at this stealing business... too good. At least it’s only food I’m taking, you know?
Slept in again, not forget breakfast this time. Laundry better dried by hanging now instead of a crappy dryer and I can tell creases aren’t permanent so easier to iron.
Got all the main things done on my 3 days weekend. Which is usually my kit and workout. I thought the gym would be closed on a bank holiday so I was all set to go for a run... I pass it on my way and see the lights on. I have a quick gander and find the place is fully ready for a workout if ever I wanted. I still went for a run but now I know the gym is available on bank holidays if I’m on camp, you know? I’m getting good at running outside. Maybe I was crapper because I never trained outside usually and it was always simulated. All I do is run for 30 minutes straight at varying paces [let’s be honest... 30 minutes is a long time when spent running] stop at one of two familiar spots which have become like my checkpoints... rest for 5-10 minutes, then run back... presumably taking another 30 minutes to get back. Thing is though, on my run out I also stop after like 3 minutes because that’s my warm up before stretching [which makes a big difference to how comfortable you are running]... basically it’s a grauntee that I don’t get back BEFORE I’ve ran for 30 minutes... but being knackered on the way back helps anyway. The punishment is [if I slow down] it takes longer... you know? So best not to relax too much.

Tuesday:
“I’ve done it plenty of times. Cut my hands clean off” – Corporal Welshie
“Then what are those on your wrists?” – My inner monologue
Just something about chopping board regulations.
“Seanie, how come you don’t talk to people?” – Annoying Gay Twat
“I do, I just don’t talk to you” – Me [That was partially intended as a joke. But I didn’t care if it offended him]
“Oh, screeew you!” – Annoying Gay Twat
“Dream on” – Me owning the faggot. Once again, I don’t not like him because he’s gay. I don’t like him because he’s an asshole who can dish out ‘jokes’ but not take them. If he were a woman [a very ugly woman] or straight I’d treat him no different.
There are another bastards I know from training who I’ve talked to twice today. I’ve let it slip both occasions about his comments on a one memorable actions. But if he thinks it’s a way for us to bond or something I will ignore for long, he is very much mistaken. It wouldn’t surprise me if he used me as a way to befriend others, lending his experience and insight into a person he knows nothing about save for rumours and passing pleasantries.
Today was both an extremely lucky bullet dodge combined with a complete disappointing fuck up. I knew my inability to sleep last night was going to cause day problems but I hadn’t the faintest idea that I would oversleep to 1000hrs. After my recent plays, the Chef’s were not gunna like this. Not to mention I thought my driving course started today and I was told to be up and early for that. This is where the good and bad combine. Fact is, all that was done to put me on course was to inform me of a date and put it up on the roster... apparently there was no accommodation booked at Colchester nor did anyone organise a ride to get me there. So basically, I wasn’t on course underneath the fact that I was supposed to be. My place was also taken up by someone else so I couldn’t do the last three days of it [for this week]. Yeah I was pissed off. But the fact that I could use the course to explain why I was so late for work with the self-quote of “I was told to come in at 1000hrs” saved my bacon. Maybe they believed me, after all I’ve presented myself as the type to do and not ask about orders even if they are fucked up [and trust me, a lot of these jarheads fuck up plenty] but even if they didn’t believe me that means they lent me a bit of leeway and decided not to challenge me. No one even asked me “Who told you that?” which was awesome... not that a detail like that matters now, fact is I’m not on course. So I’m very relieved, but pissed off.
I had to iron a set of whites and then took the opportunity to jump in the shower and came back after an hour to jump on the late shift. Woop-de-fucking-do. After lunch I jumped on making sandwiches, as the instructions were “got nothing better to do, make the sandwiches”. That includes me.
“Anyone got a pen?” – Me
“Where’s yours?” – Corporal Harrisment [spelt correctly for ‘him’]
“In my jacket” – Me
“You should have a notepad and pen on you at all times-“ and blah blah blah, lecture, patronising, talk down nose for five minutes... the only thing running through my mind is the fact he didn’t even bother answering my question. What a Prick.
Another Corporal I’ve noted goes around, tells other people to hurry up, jumps on a job with you, makes a mess and fucks off. Five minutes later he’d doing fuck all. What does that tell you? He’s just trying to look busy and part of the team. What a Prick.
Lastly. Another guy [this time a Private, but still has seniority over me] bragging about how he’s had to take care of more kids than me in his lifetime. Does that make him better? No. Does that mean he’s suffered more than me? No. What does that make him? A Prick, that’s what.
But anyway. I passed the sandwich making time by talking to the guy on them with me. By ‘my’ luck, even though I hadn’t been in since the start of the shift we were told as soon as we did the sandwiches we could go. So we just complied and left. Weren’t going to let them know so they could change their mind, we just left. I relaxed in the room, had scoff, relaxed some more, did some jobs and then went to the gym for some cardio [which reminds me, I didn’t do P.T. this morning and no one noticed. Wewt! ‘Cuz I was on course... you know how that turned out though already]. I amazed myself in the gym today though. I think I’ve broken through to a whole higher level of endurance fitness. Third day of cardio in a row and I’m only getting better. Sure my muscles ache, but that just seems to spur me on. It’s not even an injury pain, it’s just the pain you get from pushing yourself physically and it feels goooooood right now. I don’t know what it is. By text books I should have a days rest before each cardio session... but no, don’t need to. And my leg muscles have gotten huge with the blood pressure. Unfortunately, all this cardio neglects my upper body with weights [and I’ve noticed my arms are getting a bit too small]... so I am gunna take a days break from cardio tomorrow. Especially since I can foresee being on P.T. on Thursday morning and it’s bad doing cardio the night before a morning run. Very bad. All you do is suffer and it’s not good for you.
One last note I think missing a couple breakfasts and having only two good meals a day has helped me lose some fat around my abs. They’re still not very distinct [I only have like a faint 2 pack], but I have shed a couple layers off my stomach. And that’s all folks.
Ps: I also dodged another bullet today. I woke up, saw the time, put on my greens and was out the door. Right? What did I forget to do hygiene-wise which you can never forget? Shave. Thank fuck the REME WO2 was decent and told me “you need to have a fucking shave before you go anywhere” because he could have charged me for that on the spot. I was like “oh fuck!” and gone.

Wednesday: Is it because I don’t have balls? Or is it because I won’t do favours for an asshole?
Being quiet doesn’t mean I’m stupid or shy. It just means I’m quiet.
Four hours of sleep before earlies shift. I didn’t bother with a shower; I’d rather have the extra few minutes sleep. Breakfast went smoothly, I was on eggs which were half okay and half just there. I think someone went and complained because near the end the Corporal came out and started showing me what I was doing wrong. It wasn’t a bollucking so I actually listened.
I had a pretty easy day, all things considered, which is good cuz I was knackered throughout. I had all three meals.
Corporal Welshie was exceptionally touchy today. He fucked up on the board brief and someone asked him to clarify something and he took it way too personally; tried changing the subject to the persons dress and carried on with his empty threats. He gives me one of his retarded speeches again today, but this one takes the record. The setting is: I’m busy putting Clingfilm on a serving container for baked beans I was going to rush out to the hotplate. Welshie is on the other side of this long metal table doing – what appears to be – rubbing a cheese grater by the top handle inside a medium sized pan. The phone starts ringing and does so for a couple seconds, I carry on what I’m doing and are just about to whip away with the beans. Welshie turns to me, says to answer the phone because I’m closest. Before I can even stop what I’m doing, the phone stops ringing. Welshie takes me away out of sight but not far so others can hear him shout [for I’m not stupid] and while I just stand and stare at him... I filter out what he’s saying is true and what’s bollucks. I was amazed...
• He claims he works hard. Everyone whose on the production floor knows otherwise.
• He says he’s a decent guy and not a twat [again], but he is.
• He says he helps people out and is glad to whenever he can. If lecturing, bollucking, doing a half-assed job and leaving more work than if he just fucked off completely is help then yes that’s true.
• He claims I need to grow some balls about me. That’s not true, I looked him in the eye the entire time without flinching.
• He tells me not to stop gobbing off. That just confused the fuck out of me... considering I hadn’t opened my mouth or made any kind of sound whatsoever.
• He claims he can take my days off from me. The only thing of the speech that’s true.
For at least two minutes... he managed to bullshit constantly with no respite. I have to admit, that impressed me. I could never do that. But it shows a distinct separation between our characters... and how the bad one is in charge of the better half. It’s the asshole with the higher rank and skill level... something I’m forced to live with, in the long run it ought to be worth it.
I never paid much into it. But every time I’m bollucked I care less, as it helps me cope. As consequence, I’ve been notoriously stealing shit loads of bits and bobs around the place... but I have the good personality cover of being shy, obedient and balless to sway immediate suspicion from me. The rest is just I being smart to cover my tracks and make sure no one notices.
However, every time I’m praised I feel better... less angrier, happier about my job. I care more, I work more. So tell me, this may be the army... but what’s still the best way to get more work out of your ‘human being colleagues’? Treat them like shit or as people? There are several bully personalities in the kitchen, some waiting to come out and others are as clear as day. I just do what I’m told, think nothing more of it.
Anyway. After work I had a good sleep, scoff, sorted myself out 100% [ironing and tidy room] and got to the gym. Today was a real struggle of a workout... possibly because I was returning to weights after just less than a week of neglecting it. But maybe I was also still tired, I dunno. I did 40 minutes of my workout and then finished the rest in my room with my own weights. Showered, bed. Night.
Ps: Puree and paste are not the same things or they’d be the same word. Ain’t the English language fucked up? We got words that have a shit load of meanings and then we got a bunch of words for the same meaning. Like Bats along with shit, crap and faeces.

Thursday:
Today I learned that female soldiers now have to achieve the same fitness standards as male soldiers. Fucking awesome. I think it’s fair, otherwise I’d still be looking down my nose at them and would never trust their physical capabilities unless I saw them. With this equal standard, I don’t have to worry about them being a possible liability. However, some people still find ways to not make the grade and not get punished.
Man, I was so not in the mood today. Woke up at 0720 and decided it wasn’t worth trying to have breakfast because P.T. was 0800. Woke up again at 0750, got in for P.T.
I was hoping for a run yesterday but with the amount of shit I was feeling I’m glad it was only football. I got a bit more blame for doing nothing and not running for the ball, but I was awoken knackered so what do I care? Hypocrites are ‘the Stoner’ [his nickname for my journal] who didn’t really do any more than me and the fact that his attention was on me doing little while a Lance Corporal around was also doing little... yet I’m the focus. Fuck off.
Seeing as I missed breakfast I ate a couple foul tasting cheap yoghurts I bought yesterday [it’s okay to store dairy if you eat it within 1-2 days of taking it out of the fridge. But it does lack the same quality and texture, obviously]. I wanted to have a shower to wake myself up more than anything, but other people coming back from Regimental P.T. [Chef’s do P.T. by ourselves] and clogging up all the showers. Rather than wait in the Queue I used the sink in my room to have a full body wash as fast as possible. Overall I cut away five minutes later than I wanted.
I was around the board at 0925, though I thought I was just going to make it in for 0930 on the dot and nearly AGAI’d... but I guess I’m luckier than I know. Way luckier. But everyone was treating me as though I was late because of the fucking five minute rule ‘guideline’ which is a fucking guideline. Being told to be someplace at 0930 means be there by 0930. If I need to be there at 0925, then I’d be told 0925. But then you get some people who go overboard and have the five minute rule doubled and say to be there by 0920. I could go on, but I’ve said all this before so I won’t. point is; one timing, follow directives, end of. A Lance-Corporal comes in at least 2 minutes late and not a word is said against her. I nearly blew with rage then. I was joking around though with normal conversation with someone and they mention AGAIing me and saying shit like “I can make you late” using the fucked up five minute rule. Bollucks. Later I’m told I was gobbing off, I tell you what it was... his ego was bruised because I didn’t fear his threats.
I actually took this bullshit to heart more than usual which I found odd. I blame it on my tiredness wearing my moral. That’s what’s making me struggle to cope with the bullshit right now.
I got told about how – apparently – the Corporals have been talking about how I’m starting to Gob off. What a load of horeshit. I’ve never said anything about them to their faces because that’s the smart way... not because I fear them. They tossed down their rank for a conversation I’d tell them to go fuck a car door. I tell you what it is, these guys are starting to get insecure that the quiet guy coming out of his shell is actually able to stand up to these fuckers and strive through anything thrown at him. They like treating me like shit really, it keeps me down... but all it does is make me care less and turn me into a shitter soldier whose reluctant to follow each of their commands. It’s totally different when a decent person orders me around. But I know they’d still find something to bitch about even IF I sorted out my ironing. I also ‘supposedly’ have to start telling people when I’m going to the toilet. What is this? School? Fucking the fucking fuck off. I know from experience that when you ask, you can [and most probably will] be denied. But if you just take, chance of success rises tenfold.
Gunshit gives a classic example of how he does his own thing regardless of other Privates challenges and then has a lecture for me about how to do food temperatures paperwork. Lead by example? He can’t, he’s a Private and has a shit example so fuck him.
Oh, and lastly on this bitching rant... I’ve learned the hard way to start getting tougher with customers. The first guy was alright, just asked if I could give him a tad more curry. No one was around or watching so I thought “sure, why not?” because I’m a nice guy. Then later another asshole comes along and demands more [he was a Corporal but I didn’t see his rank slide at the time so whatever] so I give him a tad more. The bastard turns around and says “is that all you’re giving me?” and I thought “you cheeky fuck” and replied “that’s all I’m allowed to give you” and he’s going “how’s a soldier meant to live on a portion like that”... answer, you eat some fucking vegetables you fat fuck. You won’t get this kind of great value on Civi street because it’s designed for soldiers diets and pay. So fuck off. Anyway, my Corporals handled it. Bastard. Next time I’ll use the lines they did. See? I’m learning every day.
As for afterwards. I was able to go about 30 minutes earlier than normal. I went straight to the shop, got some treats, went back to my room and was going to rest for 20 minutes. Ended up going to sleep for over an hour. I then nearly decided not to bother going to the gym but I’m glad I reconsidered. Despite my lower leg muscles feeling strained to fuck [for reasons I don’t know because they been fine all day] I had a pretty good cardio workout. But couldn’t complete it all. Some for the weekend then, no major problems.
I had an attempt to catch up the work in my room but didn’t have the energy. Had a shower, ironed my kit, got into bed and typed this. I feel a lot better than I was this morning. Let’s see what tomorrow’s like. I know Welshie’s in, and he’s working this weekend as shift IC... I can already tell that I’m going to get another ‘telling off’ for something. As long as he’s unable to follow through I don’t give a shit.
Ps: Today I stole some food. I do as compensation for every time I’m treated like shit and it’s mostly food to stop me from going hungry anyway.
PPs: I figured out why I’ve been oversleeping. My alarm hasn’t been working properly. From now on I check it every night before I go to sleep. Night.

29th May: Friday:
Finally, an easy fucking day. I had a lie in and didn’t bother getting up for official breakfast time. Got up at 0830, showered, dressed, in work for 0900 but because it’s not until 0930 I didn’t ask but just sat down and ate cereals. As I know, asking permission means you can be denied... whereas otherwise there’s always the “I didn’t know” excuse for the first offence. Smart, eh?
Anyway, needless to say I was on time for board brief so no complaints. Or was there? I got warned not to blag a temperature sheet without the temperature probe [for the food] – even though I was following Corporal Harrisment’s example. The Gunshit [who I think ratted me out about it yesterday] got a bollucking in front of everyone this morning because apparently he was gobbing off. Good. I said even today, he seems to think he’s an NCO when he’s a Private. There’s a big difference, I hope he’s realised that for his sake; because I’m slowly but surely coming out of my shell now which means I take less shit from shitheads of the same rank as me. Just today me and Gunshit were told to round everyone up for board brief... he tells me again a minute later after I did all the informing. I didn’t stay quiet this time and said “I know, I was there when –Nobbie- said it”. Normally I’d have just thought that, but that goes to show I got my feet and are coming out of my shell. I was never shy or stupid, but I can see how people can mistake my quietness for such traits... oh how they are mistaken.
I didn’t do much today. Jobs here and there. Cut some Veg and did the Salad Bar mainly. I was told to get some supplies from the Sergeant’s mess and deliver them. Oddly enough I got an echoing lecture. First the Boss asks me when I got my new beret and tells me that all I need to do now is shape it... then Welshie says the exact same thing as though he actually eavesdropped and wanted to sound like the boss. Either it’s coincidental bullshit or it’s the foremost and I got a stalker who now needs inspiration for his conversations.
Anyway, Lunch was the busiest meal and even then was piss easy. I was on the retail hotplate doing fish and chips. For evening meal we don’t cook much. 25 – 30 portions of food max, just the weekend shift of 4 Chef’s [me including as I’m working this weekend]. Evening meal is also 45 minutes shorter on weekends. I always knew weekends were easy to work and you get rewarded later by having more days off the following weekend. It won’t workout that way for me this time because they put me on weekend duties because I’m on leave soon. Figures. Because I’m not on driving course, I’m gunna try and do it on leave on a blitzing course. I hope it works and I finally get it done before August when my theory test expires.
I wasn’t going out for a leaving do’s disco. 1. I don’t know the guy, 2. I’m too tired to enjoy myself and got better things to do. I rested and played on my laptop for more than I probably should of. But I still managed to get all my ironing, my whites laundry, room tidied and 40 minutes of exercise done [30 minute run]. I’ve only got 35 minutes of workout owed left from the week which’ll be easy to shed off even while on shift.
Ps: Chef don’t have enough time for admin much and my beds starting to stink with the sweat. Because I’m getting real hot in bed and waking up drenched in sweat. It’s not nice, I do know that but you know. I wanna get shit done so I have as little to do at home as possible... even though the list will inevitably be a long one.

Working weekend. Peaceful, weird. So fucking easy as well [in notes, typed quick full of typos, very knackered]
Sandwhiches easy but took a lot of time. 160 [2 triangles in packet]. about 3 hours to do. Then cut up some potatoes for roast. Had both scoffs. Meal times better, shorter. Make more sense. If work every weekend if I could and have days in the week off instead when you can get stuff done. Trains work better, everythings open and no working hours in your way. Only 4 chef’s about on weekends. 1 corporal who’s probably sound because no senior ranks about. 1 lance corporal whose great anyways. 2 privates, myself included. I stole a sandwhich [because I know I made more than enough anyway] and a yoghurt. Im worse than when I was in bookers now. I steal to get my own back on the assholes mainly, compensation and makes me feel better. It’s good therapy that helps tighten my lips when im getting bollucked... cuz if I speak my mind more than 20% of the time, I know ill get charged. That’s just how it is I’m afraid.
I had a decent lie in on Sunday at least. Decent-ish. I got my laundry out and hung it up to dry in my room all day and it actually works. Wash overnight, get it out in the morning, hang it up on a warbrobe door and it’s dry by time you finished. I didn’t get round to a shower, I’d rather lie in that little bit more. Managed to go the whole 2 days without anyone challenging me on the fact I hadn’t worn a necktie [less ironing]. Working as duty Chef today, it was basically me an a Lance-Corporal for the main part. He handled most of the work himself. I just made the salad bar for tomorrow. Stole some more stuff because I was the last person to go and was locking up. Today was real peaceful. I also did like 10 minutes of my workout so I’m all up to date on that. Just a mere 4 sets that is. 20 reps with my weights different exercise each time, 50 on a sit-ups. When I was finished I got straight on my laptop to play some games. Fuck it. After 2 hours I start sorting myself out, ironing, workout, shower, bed. Sure it’s better to get it done so you can fully relax on your laptop after with the knowledge you got nothing you ‘need’ to do... but fuck it. When I come in, I’m knackered. Been having less and less sleep each night and still been keeping up with my fitness... it does take its toll. I can’t wait until leave, nothing bad better happen to it or I swear I’ll kick off. I’m not gunna rant more, tired. Fuck off.

Monday: Soooooooooooooooo tired...
Ugh. Today was just annoying, I nearly cracked under the bullshit. It all started with breakfast because I was on earlies:
“How’s breakfast?” – Corporal Welshie
“I’m a bit behind” – Me
“Well you need to speed up then, don’t you?” – Welshie
“...yeah” – Me, “thanks for that asshole, couldn’t have figured that out without your help” – what I wanted to say.
I was okay though in the end, although someone was told to jump on and help me I would have done it on time even if he’d not. All in all I did well for myself. I’m speeding up, that’s the main thing.
What went horribly wrong this morning was eggs. I don’t know what it is with them but I kept fucking them up. I’ve done good ones in the past because I learnt one way that works... then I came here and I’ve had to learn a whole new way to do something every fucking day I’ve done it, you know? No wonder I’m shit at eggs. All the Corporals keep telling me to use a different pan for starters, they’re never satisfied... why don’t they just have a meeting and agree on something, huh? I knew I wasn’t going to get anywhere with the eggs and if I didn’t ask for help I’d piss a load of hungry squaddies off. So I asked for help... I knew the asshole would give me shit and it was wrong for me to hope it would be done discreetly [and he think’s he’s not a bully or a twat... go do one dumbass] for it but I certainly underestimated how much he was capable of “What are you going to do when you go on exercise, Chef? Huh?”. All I ultimately cared about was that, 1. He also struggled with a couple eggs coming out with cracked yolks [at least it wasn’t just me] and, 2. the eggs were served.
He even gives me a bit of shitty remedial lessons about eggs. He says I’m cracking them wrong... no I’m not, I’m just cracking them differently... you proven on the hotplate yourself that some of the yolks are coming out cracked regardless, and even had to break out like 5 eggs just to cook 2 good ones. Whatever. Does he not prefer I ask for help? Would he prefer me to fuck up and get complaints from customers? I’ll consider that recourse next time I’m on earlies with the git because it’s not worth asking for his help... all you get is a bollucking. I would have brought this up, but I’m not gunna do anything intentional to risk my 2 weeks leave tomorrow.
After service and clear down... I’m not told to go on a break; I just overhear Welshie say everyone’s going on a break. So I have cereal for breakfast. Am I told when break’s over, hah, you better believe it. 35 minutes later [I know I was pushing it, but “I don’t know any better”, woo!]. Basically, I fucked up once admittedly with some dates on food... but as for Welshie, he got fucking hounded by the Sergeant all fucking day. Although I’m happy for that, it meant that the shit rolling downhill was dribbling on me. Long story short, no matter what I did it was wrong. Every now and then he’d [bolluck] me or the early shift quietly in private [probably where the senior ranks couldn’t see] and give us lectures. It’s always the same. He says he’s not a twat when he is, tells us what’s wrong, makes a 5 minute speech about it, fucks off. Do I care? No. But I’m not gunna say anything about it today.
When it came to the end of lunch service, he really was getting on my nerves... so I shamelessly sneaked off to sit down and eat my dinner with the other Chef’s. I didn’t know any better [yeah right] and they’re eating so why can’t I? I got caught 5 minutes into my food and Welshie’s like “you’re really starting to piss me off” and I thought “awesome, and I’ve only had to be myself”. But anyway, he tries to convince me he had the option of giving me a load of shit jobs before I knocked off and then decided not to.
1. That means he hadn’t the power to do so because he’s being bollucked and can’t do shit to anyone else right now.
2. Even IF he gave me such jobs... the whole early shift would be knocking off right after lunch. How long do you think I’d stick around the kitchen after he’d left? Exactly. Not a fucking minute.
He makes up a bit of probable bullshit of his decisions to go easy on us over the weekend. I only did as was detailed. If I didn’t clean something, I wasn’t told to clean it. If I didn’t cook something, I wasn’t told to cook it. I am a Private, I don’t think or use initiative, I do; that is my job as a Private [and supposedly a Chef]. It’s all bollucks anyway; he did the weekend more half-assed than any of us so of course he fucked up.
One more lecture about me not being a team player by sitting down on the rest of the earlies [4 of us in total] and I was gone. I tried to track down my MFO box but long story short... I saw a total of three attack helicopters wizzing around and got fucked around trying to find my box for an hour. Then I went back to sleep for as long as possible. 1800 I made it just in time for scoff, had scoff, played on my laptop and went to the gym.
Now I can tell I’m tired because just over halfway of exercising through a workout... suddenly my brain, heart and whatever set of limbs I’m working all suddenly ally together and rebel against my desires. No matter how I try to overcome this mental block to carry on... nothing sways me. So I have to leave the gym early. You know what it is? It’s I figured it out. It’s my body telling me that it’s completely knackered and it doesn’t want to go on. I guess it’s logical – but frustrating – to stop... my only question is... when will I have an opportunity to get a decent night’s sleep for ONCE!? I am so glad I’m going on leave or I’d not survive the week.

Additions [confusing contradiction in the kitchen – now try and say that faster]:
How many Chefs’ does it take to cook an egg? [Three. One to fuck up, one to bail him out and an asshole to not shut the fuck up about it].
Hurry up; but take your time, don’t rush.
Clean down everything. [Everything?]. That’s what I said, everything. Start switching on before I AGAI you. Don’t clear that! I’m still using it, can’t you see? Start sparking Chef!

This is a one way conversation. I talk, you listen... you’re not listening!
Yes I am. I’m listening to the fridge.
The first rule about one-way conversations: They are for Corporals with low self-esteem and haven’t mastered two-way conversations... so... you may hear them practising, but you don’t have to listen. If they can’t have a conversation with you properly without your proper involvement, don’t show any involvement at all.

Dis-configured ranting notes that I can’t be assed to refine:
Bullshit Corporals. Wen I was a private, if I didn’t iron my superman cape and get to work 10 hours before the 5 minute rule I’d have to morriss dance on the hotplate while serving.
The army bullshits a lot. Especially to con you in. You could be looking for a job, stumble into the careers office and go “oh sorry, wrong place. I was looking for mcdonalds” and the Squaddie’s go... “no you can work at a McDonalds branch on one of the army camps, don’t worry. You won’t be a soldier or anything it’ll be completely safe”. Next thing you know you’re down as a postal courier in Pirbright holding an SA80 wondering “if my job’s safe. Why do I need this?” To defend yourself “whose pathetic enough to rob a Mcdonalds?”. What’s the point in having a weapon anyway? the rag head can shoot me but I can’t shoot back, you know? Just point and say bang “I got you! You’re dead! Hey! Stop cheating and get on the floor!”. And they say you can transfer at basic from the careers office... basic says you can transfer at phase 2, phase 2 say you can transfer at your unit... by the time you’re at your unit you realise what’s happened too late to get out and that poor Mcdonalds boy is doing a paperround on camp every morning and licking stamps. Tongue’s so dry all he’s doing is slowly cutting through it with each stamp, you know?
People say they can knock me you. Do it then. If that was me, I wouldn’t warn someone I was going to punch them beforehand id just fucking do it if I was that pissed off. You don’t get a copper warning someone he’s going to draw his pistol and give you ample time to get round the corner.
It’s so annoying when people ask you what you did before the army. What’s the point? “Where did you work, Sean?” “Bookers cash and carry on the tills” they laugh and then you ask “what did you do?” “Drugs. It was either join the army or face prison, you know?”. Like I went to college, but all I did was learn bullshit I’m never going to use again in my life.
Geology. All I wanted to know was how Volcano’s go boom and how to tell a stegosaurus from a rock, you know? Evolution is partly related to life. Yes it did happen you religious nutcases. But I ended up learning about fucking pebbles and how to find oil. That’s really handy when we break down I guess. When the convoy runs out of petral I can see them turning to me and going “okay Sean. Where do we fill up?”. How the fuck am I gunna utilise meteor composition in a fucking kitchen? Mass extinction events, hah, that’s the fucking enemy if they train me a tad more and let me off the leash. After I shit myself I’ll go fucking nuts.
History. Basics of History is that there was a very bad man with some very bad friends doing some very bad things... and our grand parents kicked the shit out of them. It was awesome.
ICT. How to type a rifle.
Enviromental science. Basically how the human race is doomed, we just hope it doesn’t happen in ‘our’ lifetime.

“I live in Hereford, near the border. And even I don’t see the point in going to Wales” – Me

Tuesday: 2nd June
My first day of leave has truly turned out to be a shit one. The fact that I’m able to type this on the train is a testament to that as you will soon learn how and why. I had a pretty decent plan which made the best of a pretty bad circumstance [to begin with, and remember this is about to get much worse]. Okay, so I gotta go to the QM’s at 1000, so I figure I can’t leave before then anyway. I woke up a tad late but had breakfast at 0700 till 0720, got into my room and sorted it out, packed my bags and got as ready to go as possible. Then I figured I’d make good use of the gym seeing as I’m here anyway so I went and did some cardio. Unfortunately due to pure tiredness, I hit that wall again and was only able to do half my workout. No big drama. Catching it up on the weekend will be a doddle.
So I have a shower, get into the clothes I’ll be leaving in and it’s off to the QM’s. I arrive 10 minutes early [didn’t think it could hurt] and say I’m there for my induction issue [which I was]. Guy on the other side says I was booked in for 1430... and the morning is for standard issues until 1200 – then they go for lunch. Standard issue huh? There was only me there... I ask if there’s any way he’d consider putting me through anyway, it has to be done regardless, right? But I could tell this robot wasn’t one for even slightly bending the rules. I thought “for fuck sake!”. I’m stuck here until 1500 at least. So I hang around the library to check train times and end up sorting shit on my laptop in my room later... tried to psyche myself up lift a couple of weights but my tired head wasn’t having it... so I just lay on my bed; interrupted only by lunch. Come 1420, I finally got my shit... not even all of it, but I got it. [I booked ahead a month, you’d thing all my stuff would have come in by now. But no. Fuck it, I don’t care, now less than ever]. I dropped my Bergen in my room and I was gone.
Just before I did... I was told to go to the learning centre about my driving course. So I sorted that out. I know it’s for my own benefit, but they sure picked their time to get my attention. I can’t have a go at the Sergeant... he was above sound standard. At least I’m one step closer to the course, you know? Still fucked up though.
So then I try meeting a mate who says he’s going to take me to the station for a reduced fee [I’m just paying for the petrol, he’s no allowed to charge me. It’s frowned upon... wink wink]. I wait five minutes and I go, I call a taxi. It’s pretty much a stake of who can get to me first then so I’m covering my ass both ways. That’s how much I wanna leave this place right now! In the end, 40 minutes later... the taxi showed up first. I’d pay any reasonable price to anyone just to get to the station. So I text the Squaddie saying I’m cool but thanks. I won’t have a go, it was good of him to offer and he was probably busy... but that also made him late, you know? Ah well.
I get on the train I planned to arriving at the station a lairey 15 minutes early for it [not the most secure of times, at least it’s a small station]. Unfortunately, the perfect train got delayed for a whole hour and 30 minutes. I was so pissed off! But I somehow was able to get some sleep instead of kicking off. If anyone apologised to me personally, I’d have told them to fuck off and get busy making the train go faster. You know? If they’re busy apologising to us for 30 minutes then they’re not working 100% to fix the fucking problem! But whatever. I nearly went the wrong way on the London Underground as I was too eager to get through it. Got on the Central line instead of the Circle... with tired eyes and a glance while pacing steadily... you can see how easy it is to confuse the two. Fortunately, the network of the underground seems designed for passengers to fix their journey’s while staying on the first train they got on. I just took a less direct route to Paddington is all... I’m glad I figured it out though before it was too late and at least I started off in the right direction. Now I’m on the train to Newport and after playing Sonic on my laptop I’ve decided to type this.
It’s 2250, way later than 1800 [my original prediction of getting home], and because my last train to Hereford doesn’t arrive at Newport until 0100 tomorrow my folks offered to pick me up. Whatever they wanted to do was fine by me. I’d be no stranger to getting some sleep in a train station at this rate. But I appreciate the help. Tomorrow the plan is to have a bigass lie in... a lie in to show up all lie-in’s anyone’s ever had... and then get to town for some supplies I’ll be able to get on my own. I just hope the journey back to camp isn’t as shit as this one... all this fucked-upness seems to be happening more often...
Ps: I’m such a master of words, I even make up my own. ‘fucked-upness’? Wewt! Indubitably [A new word of mine that replaces indeed... seeing as Sarah and her whole clan knicked it from me. I’d use it on the net, but it’s hard to spell. :p ].
Ps: The ticket lady was annoying. I know what I can and can’t do and what I can get away with. Just let me buy the fucking ticket and go home!