Clumsy Kisses

White riot, I wanna riot, white riot, a riot of my own

The song above is the song that my youth workers have just been singing, on account of the fact there was nearly a riot last night in the area surrounding the church. Yes, they’re MY youth workers, I’m very fond of them so I’ll claim them. We have FootballMadYouthWorker, who is 33 and lives in the vicarage to this church with his mate. We have ScruffyYouthWorker who I love on account of his yumminess and scruffy jumpers. And we have YouthWorkerDirector, who is nearly 60, married to the vicar of All Saints in Ponte Carlo and who enjoys a trashy romance, a glass (bottle) of red wine and a good curry. She’s ace, and she treats us all like surrogate kids.

Today’s task for me is to finish compiling this database. It’s going surprisingly well so far. I hope to have it finished by the end of today, then next week I have to move on to the database of clergy that my boss wants. Then after that I can move on to publishing. Wooo, my natural state - the editor. Also known as the grammar pedant, the nit-picker, the bloody annoying.

It’s the last day of the work week for me today. I only work three days a week, ostensibly to ‘write’ the rest of the week. However I haven’t been feeling inspired recently, so I’ve been trying to stay on top of the cleaning. Himself and I have been doing well. We’ve chucked out a load of stuff, freecycled some stuff and tidied some stuff away. The back bedroom is about to be redecorated so it needs tidying first. I think tomorrow I’ll clean the kitchen floor. Excitement!

I’m off to see The Futureheads on Friday in Manchester with Laura. Should be good