I am considering constructing a letter to someone in power (possibly God) in the hope that Good Friday can be renamed - otherwise I will sue under the Trade Descriptions act. You see, there is nothing good about Good Friday. So there.
Irrespective of my personal grievances about Good Friday (which I'll come to in a minute, don't you worry), I don't really understand the religious branding of the day. I mean, it's supposed to be Good because Jesus - the alleged Lord and Savour, hallelujah, clap yo' hands, etc) died for us. Apparently, his Dad sacrificed him because we couldn't behave and are dirty old sinners. Hmmmm... So the leader is as dead as a dead thing and the followers decide to name the day GOOD FRIDAY. I don't know about you, but I think it sounds a bit spiteful. It's a bit like calling it GLAD HE'S DEAD FRIDAY. Or even DING DONG BABY-J HAS GONE FRIDAY. Innit? If my personal saviour - Lord Madge, peace be upon her, etc - decided to slip off the dish, I wouldn't think, 'Oh HURRAH!' (The Daily Mail, hetros with inferiority complexes and rubbish, self-loathing gays might, but they can SWIVEL ON IT. DRY.) Nor would I name it VOGUE FRIDAY. And if she died FOR ME, then I'd feel obliged to live out the rest of my life striking guilt-laden poses whilst looking after her kids - although I might have to send the adopted ones back - it's not as though I'm on mega bucks and four might be too much of handful.
Anyway, I digress... This particular Good Friday is anything but for the following reasons...
1. I'm at work. Whilst the rest of the populace (or so it seems) luxuriates in the splendor of a four day weekend, I am at work, dealing with miserable people and their overspilling-sewerage related problems. It's actually LESS fun than it sounds, if that's possible. In addition, I have been shouted at by three people and spoken to six people who don't speak English - which makes discussing all matters shit-worthy a right laugh. Like, ho, ho. I am also working tomorrow - NOOOOO! DOOOOOM! - and Sunday, which is difficult to swallow as a) It's Easter Sunday! He is risen (which I don't really believe, but hey ho) and Tescos isn't open for business, which is a sure sign that I shouldn't be either. Pah!
2. I have spent the last year working towards getting on a teacher training course. I've volunteered for three months, during which time I became no stranger to Lidl, Primark, Superdrug facial wash and reusing tea bags. Okay, that last bit isn't true - I'm just being dramatic. So sue me. Crushing disappointment came in the form of a 'thanks but no thanks' type letter yesterday. Apparently, I don't have enough experience. They have suggested that I get a job as classroom assistant (which I can't afford to do) and try again next year, although there is no guarantee I'll get on even if I do as they suggest. The gravity of the situation (ie. what the effing-jeff am I going to do with my life, other than sit on a park bench and drink meths through my eye) is still dawning on me, causing my stomach to flip muchly. I am trying to convince myself that kids are evil little fuckers (with limited success) and they generally turn adults very boring (which is true). Am also reminding self that most teachers I know seem to complain hugely about their jobs - they really ought to swap positions with me for a day. Hmmmm... Pass the Special Brew and fuck 'em all, etc.
3. I have just had a hot cross bun at my desk. It did not taste good. Also, something made a scary sounding crunch noise whilst chewing/inhaling (my preferred weapon of ingestion-related choice). I am now concerned that I have eaten glass, or the shell of bug with a horrible name that sounds something like DUNG and can be located under the 'parasite' section in a tropical wildlife book.
4. It is raining outside. When will winter end? I know that we're officially in British Summertime (snigger) as the clocks have propelled themselves forward by an hour, but all that seems to have happened is that it's grey and dull for a little bit longer. My car has also got a leak. And a dodgy back light. And she needs a new exhaust. And a new tyre. And the indicator light on my dashboard has decided to stop working. As has the internal light. I wish the sun would put his hat on and shout hip, hip, hip, hurrah. I'm sure I'm getting rickets - and that's all I fucking need.
5. I am having a fat day. Not surprising, since I have taken out my stress on my arteries. God bless Double Deckers, Grab Bag sized packets of crisps, M&S Sandwiches and Cornettos, even though it's not really the weather for them. Might have to stock up on male girdles. They do them as Asda, apparently.
So there we have it, GOOD FRIDAY my ARSE.