As I've said, every morning I am woken at 5am by the TV and some noisy people. I just stuff earplugs deep into my ears, put my pillow on my head, and by 6am it mostly abates. This was the case this morning, and I found myself in a state of semi-consciousness - but there was an alarm clock ringing. But it wasn't too annoying, so I just let it continue, wondering why nobody was turning it off.
And suddenly I was woken by Nik, exclaiming, "Get up! There's a fire! A real fire!" It was a rig alert that I was wilfully sleeping through. No drill, but a proper oil rig fire.
Of course, it turned out a little less dramatic. I shoved on my coveralls and stumbled up to the helideck, where a bunch of men were meandering about, seeming confused, with absolutely no kind of organisation. This rig seems to have sidelined safety so there are no weekly fire drills, which is kind of good because they're a pain, but kind of bad because in the event of a real emergency nobody has a clue what to do. In this case, the majority seemed to have opted for watching the fire.
I got there too late for the excitement, and indeed would surely have perished if it had been a real emergency, but it seems the flare (a big jet of flame burning off the fuel during the current stage of operations) had gone a bit astray, and the water sprinklers hadn't been enough, and part of the rig had started to burn. But easily remedied, it seems.
That was the highlight. I tried to get some sleep after that but was thwarted by one of my roommates. I don't know his name, so let's call him "Big Fat Prick" for now. Big Fat Prick is an ugly fat man in his 60s. I'd lain down and the room was quiet, when suddenly Big Fat Prick came in, and started speaking very loudly, to the guy in the bed above me, who barely said a word. On and on he went. My earplugs were successfully blocking the pish on TV, but his voice could conquer any ear defenders. I don't know what he was saying, but it was obviously rubbish. I was in a really comfortable position, so withheld from moving and telling him to shut up because I was convinced he wouldn't be around for long. But he seemed determined to stay as long as possible and make as much noise as he could.
So eventually, I decided to sacrifice my comfortable position, so I turned around, and what did I see? Big Fat Prick had opened the curtains on my bunk, and was resting his feet on my bed as he sat back in a chair! You fat prick! He noted my obvious look of astonishment at this, and I told him to stop talking. Which, to his credit, he did, and he even later turned off the light. That doesn't redeem him though. He makes the room an absolute no-go area anytime after 6pm, as he sits back naked except for pants watching excruciating TV over his swollen belly. Sweaty, naked, old man skin.
My day otherwise has been drab and disappointing. I was expecting some kind of news about getting off this rusting tin can, but today I have received not an email. I sent out a few, all unreplied to. Therefore my hopes of getting off tomorrow are pretty much dashed. On the bright side, the lack of emails means there has been no further heart-sinking news about the previous job's failures.
On a different note, someone was sick in the sink of the only good bathroom. Evidently, they'd decided it was ok to leave it there.
Ok, have to go and do some work.
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1 comment:
One meal a day is enough for a lion, and it ought to be for a man.
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