A Country Dweller: Not so Fast Food

Before I went to University I had never really experienced fast food. Well, obviously I had... but not on a regular basis, and it didn't ever seem to haunt and stalk me the same way it does now. Here, in Cumbria, I can go for a jog up the fell, and feel invigorated by excercise. In Stoke, whilst at Uni, I go for a run and pass McDonald's billboards every 300 metres- which just makes me want to go and order 3 large Big Macs!

Picture courtesy of www.adsoftheworld.com

Anyway, regardless of the effect this food has on my health, wallet and figure, when I'm at home, I do kinda miss it. A friend and I really wanted a quick food fix the other day. The theory that when living at home your parents wait on you hand and foot is a myth. Or at least in our households it is. No home cooked evening meal and no parents in sight. To top it all off, bare cupboards. We may aswell have been still at uni. And we'd have had better luck finding ourselves some gnosh if we had been! We weren't able to call Dominoes as there isn't one anywhere near us. That's no exageration. I genuinely don't know where our nearest one would be! (OK, so you inspired me to do some research...!)
I made this chart to show the distance to our nearest fast food outlets.

From top to bottom: Pizza Hut, Indian, Chinese, Burger King, Chippy, KFC, Subway, McDonald's

Given that wherever we were to travel we would have to incur petrol costs, it was unfortunate that we didn't fancy fish and chips. Travelling anywhere further than 5 miles makes for a rather expensive evening meal. So what did we do? Hit Westmorland, where we both work, and got ourselves a panini and a portion of chips each. Lord knows why we thought this was a better idea, as the hefty service station prices didn't make for a cheap stomach filler by any stretch of the imagination and the meal was probably as calorific as a McDonald's. In hindsight, we shoud've stayed in and ate cereal.

A week In The Life of a: Country Dweller

Despite Cumbria being truly beautiful, (and let’s be honest, there are worse places to live than on the edge of the Lake District!) living in the countryside is quite often a challenge in itself- this week I’ll be keeping you informed of all the drawbacks, and highlights, of being a country bumpkin!

Whilst some readers may blame the tube, public transport or general busy traffic as excuses for running late for work, my manager told me today that when I drive to work and run late, I most commonly blame getting stuck behind farmers moving sheep and for the most part, this excuse is genuine!

Delays: Enough to drive you baaaaaa-rmy!

Rather than me describe what my surroundings are like, I thought I’d make the most of multi-media, and let you view the sights, and hear the sounds of the countryside for yourself.

 

A Workaholic: Surviving the Double Shift!

Well, needless to say, given I'm writing this. I survived my 16 hours in work, folllowed by another 8 hours, seprated by only 6 hours at home!
Regarldess of my survival, the whole experience wasn't pretty (and neither is my face in this video!) My words may reveal I was feeling ok, but boy oh boy, do I look rough! There's one thing I can say for sure- hard graft aint glamorous!

Top tips I can give to anyone else working long hours are;

-Make sure you get your break enitlement, for obvious reasons. Sometimes a little break can help you feel a lot more revatalised.
- Take your toothbrush, and maybe some dry shampoo. If you look clean and fresh this may have you feeling a little fresher too!
- Take a second pair of shoes. (I'm not the only one who swears by this!) If you're on your feet all day (like I am) it can really take its toll. A change in footwear helps relieve pressure points on your feet, and keep you comfortable.

A Workaholic: The Dreaded Morning Phone Call...

My job makes it almost impossible to have a lie in. Even today, when I wasn’t due in work until 11am (a much more reasonable hour than the usual 7am start) I received a phone call from my manager, Ela, at 8.30, asking if I could start my shift an hour earlier.

Whenever they ring up during what I perceive to be the ‘early hours,’ they catch me so off guard that I agree to absolutely anything they ask. As soon as the phone goes down and I’m in less of a state of slumber, I’m always overcome by extreme feelings of remorse- ‘Why, oh why did I agree to go in!?’

Apparently I should consider myself lucky that my phone call arrived when it did. My colleague, and very good friend, Tracy Potter, received a similar phone call at 7.30am- and today’s her day off. Not cool. But then she got to spend the day chilling in the sun whilst I ran a barbeque shed. So my heart hardly goes out to her.

Me, inhaling smoke whilst flipping burgers

Given the Bank Holiday proves to be a busy one, extra hours are flying around, and shifts are often becoming available at short notice.

This week, I worked Monday and Tuesday, on a day’s notice, and agreed to work an early on Saturday (7am start) despite working a late on Friday. (11pm finish) As if spending 16 out of 24 hours in the place wasn’t already going to be enough, I then agreed to work an extra shift tomorrow- meaning I’ll be working two consecutive eight hour shifts.  

You may perceive this as a bit of a mad move, but with tomorrow being Good Friday, I’ll be earning time and a half (that’s just over £9 an hour.) which means I’ll receive three shifts worth of cash in one day- it's a pity we won't recieve the same perks on the day of the Royal Wedding.

On the begining of a bank holiday weekend, I predict the whole experience will be nothing less than traumatic.

Wish me luck for my 16 hour stint. I can't help but feel I’ll need it.