The remains of the day

I am on the way home. It is 21.17, I’ll be home about 22.40. I’ve been up since 04.45. That, my friend, is a loooong day.

So I’m tired. And hungry. And hungry. And tired. And a little bit grumpy but that might be related to the tiredness. And the grumpiness.

[inserts random question: I’m going to record podcast episode 53 tomorrow afternoon. So what’s the worst job you’ve ever had? It could be a part-time or school holiday job. Comment here or email thisrealitypodcast@gmail.com with your answer]

The journey is going v.quickly but not quickly enough; I just want to be home.

Listening to a recording of Edith Murray interview Duffy at The Brits, it sounds like a mentally defective person talking to a mentally defective person. How on earth do these people manage to survive the rigours of day-to-day life in the 21st century? I’m asking because surely they’re not allowed out by themselves? I find that idea far too frightening.

Did Edith Murray go to the Fearne Cotton school of brain training? I’m not expecting a discourse on Wittgenstein’s philosophy of mathematics or even a synoptical statement on disambiguation… I would just like to hear a Q/A session between two people who might sound as if their combined IQ was marginally higher than 42.

Am I asking too much?

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5 Responses to The remains of the day

  1. Soph says:

    Errr…asking too much? Female Radio 1 DJ? Err…? Yes.

    Isn’t it Edith Bowman? Or did she marry Colin Murray?

    Or are you pulling our legs? You flirt you!

    xxx

  2. Brennig says:

    It was a poke at the androgynous nature of the Edith/Colin construct. Sorry. I’ll get me coat. 🙂

  3. monkey says:

    huh? yeah i just thought you got her name wrong. watch out if youre calling duffy names, she throws shoes (no really)

    worst job…umm..im lucky ive never had a job i hated, hated bits of most of them. my last bar job had its best/worst moments, but i lived, am so brave!

  4. Vicola says:

    Evidently that IS asking too much because it is TV policy to only hire presenters for ‘light entertainment’ or ‘music’ who are a)blonde and b)thick as pigshit. Hence the rise of Bowman, Fearne Cotton, Tess Daly and the terminally appalling but heavily chested Holly Willoughby, whose entire career has been based on dresses that only just cover her nipples.

  5. Huw says:

    Old people’s nursing home: combination of dealing with genuinely terrified confused people together with mopping up their incontinent puddles, sometimes from around their feet as they cried for mother. I lasted a week. Sorry, I suppose you’d hoped for something a bit funny, rather than just purely upsetting?

    It’ll be us one day.