Feels like the naughty step to me.

Since Black Monday's little episode I have had a day off and then I went into work on Wednesday, not that I actually did anything as when I got there I felt decidedly unwell and stressed, so much so after I got my road learners pass I walked over to the platform where the train I wanted went from, sat there, watched the first train come in and then go. I knew something wasn't right as I became to get the warning signs for a migraine - I thought (as I usually do) that it was my imagination, then the second train came in and the warning signs go more noticeable. There was no way I was going to be able to do a 3hr plus journey to London and back and not be in severe pain by the end of it. I decided to cut my loses and head for home.

So yesterday I headed off for my shift at midday. Booked on, but didn't see anything of my instructor so I just headed down to the train. He was already on board and I let myself into the cab. He was in the driving seat with a look of surprise on his face. In point of fact I was supposed to be route learning until the manager sorted out another instructor for me next week - apparently he told me that on Black Monday - However after what happened Black Monday he could have told me that I could retire on full pay immediately and it would not have registered, mind you, past experience of 'communication' at SWT makes me think he never said it to me in the first place, I also have to wait for a call from said manager to confirm arrangement for my new instructor - somehow I can't see that coming unless I develop mind-reading abilities in the near future.

Once this initial surprise was over my (former) instructor said I could come along with him down to Exeter and back. Exeter is not one of my favourite routes as it is in First Great Western territory and as anyone who has had the misfortune of travelling with them will know, delays are their business, including delaying trains that aren't even theirs!! In for a penny etc I thought, so off we went.

How can I describe this, but the journey to Exeter was mainly composed of a somewhat embarrassed silence, with us both trying to make polite conversation that seemed to end as quickly as it started. I did however manage to get one point that was raised on Black Monday straightened out and it seems that everyone breaks coming into stations completely differently and rendered what I was told fairly nonsensical as I would end up stopping with the back of the train hanging off the platform. It's a bloody nightmare believe me! Anyway the drive back was a bit better, the ice having been broken when I saw a bloke walking past Exeter St Davids in a leopard skin frock - very strange.

Now we come to today. As I knew I would not be driving and I could not be doing with another cab trip, I went into work and just revised my drivers rules. Had a chat with another instructor, mentioned braking and got told a whole other way of doing it - this really does not make any sense to me now, I might as well just ask the passengers to take a vote on it and see what I can manage!

However if this is my imagination, it is just paranoia backed up by my history!

I want to curl up and die!

Up until Monday I felt that things with my training were really beginning to improve and that I was getting somewhere. Sadly I was completely and utterly deluded!

I have to admit that yesterdays two trip weren't as good as my previous ones. This all died on its arse when a manager got in the cab at Basingstoke - this was the first time anyone other than myself and my instructor had been in the can. It stressed me out completely - I would have much preferred a maniac with an axe as at least I would not now have to live under the cloud of what followed. 

Just before my penultimate station he asks me how many hours I had done, followed by asking me whether I would be comfortable to stop at the station without any input from my instructor - which frankly was loaded questions go is up there with 'When did you stop beating your wife?' Now first of all I must explain that when you stop you first shut off the power at a certain point and then brake at another predetermined point. As I mentioned before I was stressed just by him being there and completely missed the shut off point, a lot of shouting ensued and all but my parentage seemed to be called into question. This left me feeling physically sick, shaking and was taken out of the driving seat to be berated further. Coincidentally I did manage to stop at the station, although rather hurriedly.

Just to make things worse I was then taken into a meeting with said manager and my instructor and told that the cab ride was deliberate as questions had been asked by some other managerial parasite why I had gone over the 225hrs and still hadn't been put in for my test. Consequently I will now be put with another instructor for 40hrs to see if a fresh pair of eyes can sort my stopping out. They did say that it is not their intention to allow me to fail and that the error I made was to be expected as I am still in training - frankly I don't believe a flaming word they are saying, but was too stunned to make any coherent points about the fact I have been faffed about from day one and my training has been somewhat fitful to say the least. All they got out of me was the question 'What happens if I am just a hopeless case?' Not much of a response beyond them reiterating that they did not want me to fail.

Add to this the fact that I am now being told by this manager that the way I have been taught to stop is wrong, makes me wonder whether these halfwits know what they are doing full-stop! Also they asked me to explain the comment on my weekly report regarding the BR dinosaur I had the displeasure of being out with for two days, which I stated had damaged my confidence.

Needless to say when I got home I cried for 2hrs non-stop - this is something I have never done since I was a child. During that time I honestly contemplated taking an over-dose feeling that I had let everyone down especially Penny for dragging her yet again miles to set up home in an area neither of us know that well. Obviously I didn't, but if I am honest I think I would rather be dead than fail this and have to go back to the misery of architecture.

Tomorrow I have to go back to work for three days then I am off for three and really I would rather do anything other than go back in there for the time being and certainly don't want to sit at the controls of a train irrespective of who is instructing me.

New NRM Exhibit - The British Rail Dinosaur.

At present my usual instructor is unavailable, so I have been told to go out with another instructor by a manager. First problem, said manager did not tell the instructor, so I turned up on Tuesday, told the instructor I was going out with him – he (like Manuel in Fawlty Towers) ‘Knew nothing.’ However he agreed for me to come out with him – I wish he hadn’t!

This guy joined the railway in 1967, which makes him around 64 and has worked nowhere else. In addition to this he won’t retire as he has nothing else to do with his time - I think that I could find something to do with my time after 46yrs worth of pension contributions! However here is one of the problems – he is old school BR – you remember the sort, always on strike for reasons ranging from taking oxtail soup out of the vending machine to being expected to turn up for work when asked to! The way he (and some others) see it is that drivers should do an apprenticeship for at least four years, be a second man after that until another driver dies and has no time for this new-fangled way of turning out what he would refer to as ‘Boil in the bag drivers.’ However he is happy to be an instructor in this system as he gets additional payments irrespective of whether he has a trainee or not!

Consequently all boil in the bag drivers are viewed with extreme suspicion/contempt and women, well that’s another story altogether. Add to this the fact that he is not very communicative, as I try to make small talk and get nothing in return – I did get one or two grunts come to think of it. However one of the worst parts of it has been when I have said when I am going to either shut off power or brake (at places I have been taught to do this) I got no response – so I thought ‘Arsehole’s to you! I’m doing it here and if we crawl into the station or sail through it, you said nothing to stop me doing it!’ Mercifully only some of the former and not the latter happened! Needless to say I got it in the neck every time I stopped and it wasn’t to his satisfaction – which seemed to be more often than not – just be glad I am stopping the whole train on the platform! If this wasn’t enough I have had some of the things I have been taught by my usual instructor contradicted completely one of which was different to the laid down method of coupling-up – like hell am I going to adopt that procedure!

Mercifully I have been able to worm my way out of spending this Friday in the cab with him – as I don’t think I could have put up with all the carping criticism and with a bit of good fortune I won’t have to go through this again as I mentioned it to a manager when the opportunity arose today. If something like this happens again I might just be desperate to go back to architecture!

Beastly Eastleigh

I went to Eastleigh today to look at trains, its a busy junction and always gets a good mixture of trains going through there, both passenger and freight. Put it this way, it was a unique experience I would rather not go through again.

For the reasons I mentioned before it also attracts a regular hardcore of spotters - a category I don't think I fall into. Frankly it looked like an outing from an institution as a lot of them clearly had something amiss with them and I didn't feel that safe with them around.

After about 45mins I thought I would avail myself of the local hostelry, it was a Wetherspoons and the clientèle were a collection of people propping up the bar in 'my first court appearance' suits either on their way to the magistrates or celebrating getting off with a caution. I ordered a drink and managed to find somewhere to sit that had the least number of suspicious stains on them - I finished my drink and got out of there in search of something to eat as I didn't fancy taking any chances with Wetherspoons microwaves finest!

I wondered up the street and there was precious little on offer and any hope of finding an M&S at the very least were fading fast and the rain made this dismal place seem a whole lot worse (if that were possible). I got to a Sainsbury's and went in there - it really wasn't worth bothering as the prospect of getting mown down by Demolition Derby & Joan with their shopping trolleys. I just left there empty handed and headed back to the station wondering how could one place be so awful.

Based on my experience I would like to throw down what I would call the Eastleigh Challenge, whereby each contestant has to leave the station, have a drink at Wetherspoons and see if they can make it as far as Sainsbury's without becoming suicidal.

To think Chris Hunhe used to be the MP for Eastleigh, is it little wonder he had that permanent scowl, I imagine that prison seemed like a holiday compared with that place and given the look of his ex-wife she would have had no problem winning a beauty contest in the town!

Thank God I don't live there!

WANTED: Blind, Arrogant, Self-serving, Bell-end.

Just how crap do you have to be in order to become a recruitment consultant? 

When I was working in architecture (if that wasn't bad enough) I would get emails about technologist's jobs in Bristol, they usually fitted the bill, so I'd reply with my cv. I would then got a call from some smarmy over-gelled acne-ridden tosspot, pretending that by just having read my name on a bit of paper give him the right to speak to me as though he has known me since primary school. That was always the first thing that got up my nose, well the second really, after the obvious fact that I have to share the same planet as such pieces of animated smegma. 

Anyway he starts his load of guff about the job and then say something along the lines of 'The client uses Micro-station' (this is a drawing package that barely anyone uses these days, and not many used it when it was new!). 

My reply was 'Micro-station, there was noting about micro-station in the advert and I wouldn't have bothered responding if it had said that from the outset.'

Stating this fact had about as much effect as trying to disable a Challenger tank by throwing a space-hopper at it. He waffled on, adding that he's been having difficulty finding anyone who uses micro-station - well if you put it in the advert you might not have to go through this nonsense every-time? Also it might help if the said practice joined the rest of the world by using something that is more or less standard in the industry, like Revit or Autocad - both of which I can use.

Do these recruitment out-fits recruit exclusively from either people who are too dim to work in Comet or just can't make the grade as an estate agent? 

Now even I have been in a proper job (in other words not working in architecture) for nearly eighteen months and having told every single one of these cretins that I have left the industry I still get calls and emails off the twats telling me about jobs I do not want to do.

If I had my way I would start hunting them down with dogs - or just gunning them down in the street.

Motto of HMRC: Strain out a gnat but swallow a camel.

This verse from the New Testament came to mind on Friday in light of the fact that I received a bill from HMRC for £1370 and this was on the very same day that there was news of people that the very same HMRC have failed pretty comprehensively in tracking down goodness knows how many tax dodgers. Add to this what I have already read in Private Eye (real news with better jokes) the amount of tax fraud and money laundering that goes on in this country and for the price treating any head of HMRC to a meal in an expensive restaurant a blind eye can be turned it makes me sick to the core of my very being.

So what can a little fella like me do? Yes I will pay up as unlike Amazon, News Corp, Vodaphone, Apple etc I have some sort of morality. However in the future I will be known as Starbuck Al Bin Google, if it's good enough for them its good enough for me!

How a celebrity sham marriage works.

As I see it (which can be a strange way of seeing things TBH) this is how a celebrity marriage works:

1. Barbie and Ken (that's what we'll call them for this exercise) are seen together regularly in various places for a period of months.

2. Ken can't keep it to himself and also suffers from wondering hand trouble. Barbie is seen crying in various places for a period of weeks.

3. In the meantime Ken and Barbie's respective agents formulate the next stages of the manufactured relationship for further public consumption.

4. Ken and Barbie move in together.

5. Ken and Barbie rapidly produce a line of kids out of wedlock (I have views on this - which makes me an intolerant bigot, but bigotry is an equal opportunities organisation). Each sprog has a suitably ridiculous name like Epoxy, Maskol and Dignitas depending on who they can get corporate sponsorship from.

6. After around four years Ken and Barbie get married this is mainly due to a dip in their so-called careers and the fact that Epoxy, Maskol and Dignitas are now old enough to be pageboys/bridesmaids. Cue the most awful wedding since the last celebrity wedding. This see's the entire wedding party bungy jumping from The Shard whilst the couple take their vows from a well known 70's TV star who hasn't yet been question as part of Operation Yew Tree.

7. Ken and Barbie then sell the photos etc to a celebrity drivel magazine for a fortune to make up for another failed attempt to get onto 'I'm a celebrity....'

8. After a few months Ken and Barbie show you around their home in another celebrity drivel magazine.

9. After a prearranged period that has been agreed by both Ken and Barbie's respective agents, one either walks out of the home or they announce they are getting divorced.

10. There then follows a few months of media circus giving each of Ken and Barbie's side of the story for which they are again paid a load of money.

After this they then go back to stage one of this and repeat the whole exercise with a different person or member of the animal kingdom.

Well that's what I think goes on anyhow!