Bad fillums rool

I have just sat and watched 'Bone Eater'. The most gloriously shitty film I've seen in a long while. Abso-bloody-lutely brilliant stuff.

The cast list reads like a who's who of cheese. Gil Gerard (almost unrecognisable), Bruce Boxleitner, William Katt, Veronica Hamel (also unrecognisable, I suspect large amounts of botox) and Walter Koenig (I missed his bit though).

Plot goes thus: Workers on the evil real estate developer's site uncover sacred native american relics. Cue dramatic music and small earthquake, then appearance of 8 foot tall skellington which then proceeds to dissolve the workers. Yes, you read that right, DISSOLVE them. (It was at this point that my sense of disbelief not only suspended itself, but flew off into the night.) Turns out that this large creature is the titular Bone Eater, according to legend a naughty shaman who went a bit power crazy and killed loads of people (dissolving may have featured, but that wasn't really expanded on). So, more dissolvings (total and partial, in the case of one unfortunate deputy) later, there's a very fast eclipse and some other mumbo jumbo.

If you get the chance, and you don't have anything more interesting or useful to do (such as watching paint dry or grass grow), then give it a try. It won't disappoint. Honest!

Chairs and stuff

Well, I got the chair. Wooo. My first thought when I saw it was 'Christ on a bike, it's the widest chair in the ENTIRE world. Oh god, I'm going to hate it.'

But, slowly, it's growing on me. Much like mould. And, though I hate to admit it, it is pretty comfortable and it appears to be helping my back. Which is, of course, the entire point of it.

Of course, the rumblings from Occupational Health still continue. Now they're after feedback. It's a chair. I park my jacksie on it and I then get up later. It's fine, thanks. Now bog off and let me get on with my job. I am hoping (possibly in vain), that now I have provided feedback (it was slightly better worded, I must admit) we can draw a line under this entire shitey episode and just move on. Fingers crossed.

Or they would be, if I actually could. Just to add insult to injury, I had a rather spectacular tumble on my way to work one morning. Just over two weeks ago. I blame the French president, as I'm sure it was the motorcycle outriders protecting his car that distracted me for that one vital second. Ha! Anyway, down I went, like the proverbial lead balloon.

There were two very lovely people who rushed over to help me up and dust me down, so I thanked them profusely and limped off to work. I was really worried about my back (after all the shenanigans I've had with it, that's not really a surprise), but it seems to have coped remarkably well. Same for my knees, which were barely bruised. It was my hands that appear to have taken most of the damage. In particular my left hand which was badly sprained and bruised. I did have to go to A&E to have it checked out and thankfully it wasn't broken. I've had to wear a wrist splint for the last two weeks which is now really annoying me. And I'm a little concerned about my hand as it seems to be taking a while to get back to normal. So, to the doctor on Monday afternoon it is. Oh, the joy.

Well...

It's certainly been a bit of a week or two. The problem with my back has recurred - the sciatica came back (though thankfully, it's subsiding now) and I am fairly sure it's not been helped by new furniture and the new layout. So, my boss arranged for a workstation assessment. And, surprisingly enough, my chair was flagged as a bit of a problem. Okay, so we just get a new chair, right?

Wrong. What happens next is that I end up having to go and see Occupational Health. I go there, thinking that it's actually about making sure that we get the right chair, that won't do any more damage to my back. TWENTY MINUTES I was in that ruddy office, before the chair was even mentioned. It appears that this was merely an opportunity to have a good old poke at the fat freak. Before I go any further, the occupational health people at my work are, in my own very humble opinion, clinically insane. And incapable of anything even remotely resembling tact.

I was asked if I'd lost weight because (and I quote) 'you don't look like you have.' Well, hello, it's lovely to see you too. There then followed a fairly prolonged harangue on how much better I'd feel, how her niece had lost so much weight and it had made such a difference (good for her, say I, but this has NOTHING to do with me) and how we all have our problems to deal with...blah..blah..blah. Then, after being asked if I wanted to be weighed (Hell no!), and on replying in the negative, being told that it wasn't optional because they would have to have the right weight for the chair.

I cannot put into words how utterly crap I felt. How pathetic and feeble and weak. I came out of the OH office feeling like I was a vile and useless creature. And all of this was coming from someone who's apparently a trained counsellor. Trained by whom? Attila the Hun, perhaps? I went back upstairs to my desk (via the loos where I sobbed for 10 minutes) and tried to calm myself down. I don't think it was one of my more productive afternoons.

What I can say is that my mam is an absolute star. She coped with her grown up daughter (who should know better) sobbing pathetically down the phone that night. And I mean really sobbing. The snotty, gulping sort of sobbing that you did when you were a kid and fell down and really hurt yourself. She managed to calm me down and was... well... just utterly fabulous.

My boss has also been fairly ace about this. He was really quite shocked when he found out (I ended up in tears again at my meeting with him the next day) and went down to tell the OH people that all he wanted was a chair for me. Just a chair. He didn't want a traumatised employee, who couldn't get through a day without crying.

Which brings me on to this week. I had to be measured, because they're going to have a chair made for me. So I went down again and I swear, it was like Laurel and Hardy had never died. Still, there were only two pointed remarks about my weight, so that was an improvement. Pfft.

And then on Thursday, I had to be measured again. Because the people at the company were a little 'concerned' about the figures they'd got. Thankfully the man who came to do this was lovely. (And rather hot too. *blush*) And frankly, I can understand why they'd be concerned at the figures considering who was doing the measuring. Bitter, me?

So, that's where we are right now. From what I understand, it's now a case of waiting for quotes and contracts to be signed and so on. Hopefully, I should have a new chair in a couple of weeks or so.

And do you know what the most ridiculous thing about this is? I specifically said to my boss(no, actually I virtually begged) that I didn't want any fuss. No fuss at all. If this is what they call no fuss, then god help us all.

New Year, New Me?

I sincerely hope so, though things aren't going entirely as I'd hoped.

Firstly, I am still missing a bathroom ceiling. It was all supposed to be sorted out whilst I was away for Christmas, but things went a bit awry. The builders turned out to be less than reliable (whodathunkit!) and the people upstairs (who were also having work done by them - work that was left unfinished) told them to naff off. Which I can totally understand, but it does mean that I now have to arrange to get quotes (something that was proving slightly difficult last year) and then get the work done.

My back is also playing up, which I could really do without. It's been horrendously painful this week (back to the pain down the leg business). I really, really don't want this to come back, I'm not sure I am strong enough to cope with it. Plus I'm already fretting about people thinking I'm just taking the piss.

I have also now broken out in a mammoth rash of cold sores. It started on Wednesday (my lip was swollen up like nobody's business) and I thought it was calming down nicely, but today I've got a whole new crop of them. I must be more run down than I thought. Great stuff.

My one main plan this year was to try and stay positive, but it's proving rather tricky. All I can do is grit my teeth (which is rather painful work) and hang on, until things improve. So that's what I'll do. Just keep doing what I can and try not to give myself such a hard time if things get a bit too much. After all, I'm only human.