Who Is Andrew Beattie?

Dearest You,

I hope you are wonderful, swell, brilliant and blasé. It’s Saturday afternoon and I’m back in my room at my laptop and about to willingly divulge a little something from my thoughts again and so it’s time for you to put on a comfortable pair of slacks, re-fill your pipe and settle down. Comfortable? Excellent, then here I go.

I nearly shit myself this week. Really, I actually nearly shit myself, twice, on separate days. Just so we are clear on this, I am talking about actual shit, me, clenching cheeks, heavy sweating, the lot. I’ll come back to this in a little while but first have a read of a small sample from my notepad so as to add some context to what will follow, through.

25/09 – Got excessively drunk on what can only be described as a ‘falling off the wagon’ binge of epic proportions – I am weak and have failed you.  

26/09 – Am I dying? I think I might actually be dying. I hope to god that this day ends soon as I feel like I am actually dying. As opposed to what, pretend dying? Pull yourself together Beattie.

27/09 – The first signs of real illness appear leaving me shaky and sweating heavily.

28/09 – Day off work ill with virus that has me shitting, shivering and sweating almost constantly and in unison.

29/09 – Start new full time position on less money than I have been on for a long time. This is how Andrew Beattie’s life works but I am feeling much better today.

30/09 – Very nearly shit myself in cab on way to work. Have to turn back 5 minutes into journey to avoid soiling myself and cab.

31/09 – Nearly shit myself again in cab on way to work. Manage to compose myself enough to cork it until the office. Evidently I am still ill.

02/10 – Shaved off my beard for the first time in many years leaving me looking like a very chubby version of my younger self. I dislike my bald face immensely.

There is literally nothing quite like that moment when you realise that if you are not sat quivering on a toilet seat within minutes, at the most, that you will be covered in your own shit. What would have happened if I’d been on the train? Well obviously I would have actually shit myself wouldn’t I. Christ, what would I have done afterwards? At 7:30 in the morning there would be nowhere open to go and clean up. I couldn’t just have headed to work regardless or even headed back home covered in watery shit so I suppose I’d have just gotten off the train and stood on the platform for a while crying and covered in watery shit. I think this is actually my worst nightmare. You can throw all the fucking spiders and snakes at me you like and even throw in a very tall building or two but shitting yourself in public is 110%, the worst situation that you could possibly find yourself in. It would be impossible to remain composed. For starters, there’s the shit on the back of your trousers that will almost certainly run and seep wherever possible. Then there’s the smell. Shit smells – fact, and should you have just shit in your trousers you are likely to smell pretty bad, in fact, you will smell very, very bad. Then there are the witnesses and if you are unlucky enough to have just shit yourself in public, you are likely to see a whole range of different reactions. Teenagers will almost certainly laugh, point and take photos and record videos on their phones that will eventually end up on your facebook page and Youtube under the title ‘Smelly bastard’, and the majority of other people will just look at you with utter disgust whilst holding their noses and making a big deal about the smell. At least one person will offer help but this will be futile as at that point it will be too late; you will smell really badly and will have just shit yourself. If this ever happens to me I am leaving the country and if it happens to you you should too, there will be nothing left here but ridicule and nicknames like Smelly McShittypants or Soiled Trouser Boy. I’m going to move on now.

So, a new job hey? Take that list. Well, it’s not so much a new job as much a new full time job within the same company that I have been at for the past 4 and a bit years. I mentioned in my diary that I took a pay cut but the reality is that it is a sales position and so the commission, should I earn it, should mean that I am earning more than before. If I believe that I really am a fool. It actually doesn’t matter much as I was at the stage where  I just needed to get back to work full time and earn regularly again, I have two holidays to pay for next year remember? Hang on a minute, does that mean that I can actually take something off my list for the first time. You know what, I think it does. 

3. Get full time work, preferably doing something creative with people to meet, but a job that pays money will do. No Andrew, you can’t be a pirate. TICK

Well I’m spent, truly fucking cream-crackered, and so I’ll be going now for an evening of light reading, Uncle Joe’s mint balls and hip-hop dancing. Thank you for visiting me again and until next time please,

Be careful not to shit yourself as I’d hate to see you leave.

Sayonara,

Andrew