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I posted something similar to this some time ago.
It's not a true story:
I don’t know how long his hand had been cold when the nurses led me away.
All I could think of were those last words he said to me. ‘Take something from every day’. As I sat there, not even noticing him pass away, I thought about all of the days I’d wasted so far. All of the time I’d sat up in my room playing around with PC’s when I could have been doing something better, improving myself.
That day, those words, they changed my life. I had a few weeks until my A-Level exams, I still had time to cram, to do the best I could. Make Dad proud. Take something from everyday, give it all in those exams and be someone, that’s what he would have wanted.
It paid off, I did well. I’ll tell you what, the look on old Miss Higgins face, priceless! That’s what I took from that day, the feeling of showing someone that didn’t believe in me that I was worth her time, that I could do better than some of her pretty show ponies. I waltzed into University, where I applied the same attitude – take something from everyday.
It was in my second year – heading for a 1:1 – that things changed. Mum decided it was time to move on, get away from the family home, and I went back there to help her move out. That was when I found it.
His diary.
I thought he wouldn’t mind me having a look, see if there were any other words of wisdom in there, something that could help me as much as ‘take something from every day’, see how Dad had applied it to his life.
Well that’s when I found out that he’d certainly lived up to it.
Back at University, I couldn’t concentrate. My mind kept wandering back to that diary, those words. The rest of the year passed by in a daze and that 1:1 was no longer on the cards. One of my tutors suggested a gap year, said it seemed like I’d worked so hard, I’d burnt myself out, said I needed to take time off to regain focus.
Friends said I should travel, ‘go find myself’, but I couldn’t see what I could take from that. I needed a new challenge, something in which I could follow my old man’s example.
I didn’t have to wait long for the right opportunity. The big PC store nearby was hiring, and I thought I could apply some of my knowledge – new and old – to the job. I told them I had experience with building PC’s, and was good with people, and that was enough for them. I started on the shop floor, talking to the customers, and passing the orders through to the back-room for building. I worked hard, I was enthusiastic, and was always kind and courteous to the customers. The manager liked this, and when I asked for a few hours working in the back-room, he was happy to grant me them.
Despite doing all of this overtime, I had a gap in my life - or so I told the woman at the community centre – a gap that I needed to fill by helping people. I started to come to the youth workshop, talking to the kids, and getting friendly with the staff there.
That’s when I suggested the computers. I laid it on thick about the importance of computer skills, how we’d be giving the kids an advantage.
I told them I could do them a good deal, they’d pay for the components, and I’d build them out of the kindness of my heart. They were all for it.
Everything was falling into place nicely.
Back at work I was beginning to get a feel for the type of customers we had. Most of them didn’t have a clue what they really needed, so I could sell them pretty much what they wanted. ’You just want to do a bit of word processing? Well you’ll need a top of the range graphics card’, ‘just want to browse the internet? Well you’ll need a decent sound card to get the full benefit’.
They wanted a PC, they got a PC. But when I was building them I changed a few things. I knew what they really wanted, and I gave them a PC that would do that. They wouldn’t think anything was wrong if I switched the processor for a slower one, or downgraded a few things.
All of the time I had the perfect place to hide these parts too. In the PC’s I was building for the community centre.
Of course, these PC’s never got to the community centre. Don’t worry, I didn’t rip them off, they got the PC’s they paid for – better even – it’s just that I built those at home with parts I bought on the cheap online. No, the ones at the store that I claimed were for the community centre made me a tidy sum from some of my mates at Uni.
I would have got away with it too if it wasn’t for one thing. Dad’s diary.
Mum decided to visit me at work one morning, when I was halfway through switching some parts around. She was roaring her eyes out, and the manager called me to see her, see what was wrong.
Well she’d read all about what Dad had been doing whilst he was working with rich clients. Secretly fiddling the books, not a noticeable about, but merely taking something from every day to make sure he was never short.
She was devastated, and it took half the morning to sort her out. When I got back I was called into the manager’s office, and I knew it was all over. I knew they would have seen what I’d done. That, Your Honour, is why you find me before you today in this courtroom, I was honouring the last wish of my father…
It's not a true story:
I don’t know how long his hand had been cold when the nurses led me away.
All I could think of were those last words he said to me. ‘Take something from every day’. As I sat there, not even noticing him pass away, I thought about all of the days I’d wasted so far. All of the time I’d sat up in my room playing around with PC’s when I could have been doing something better, improving myself.
That day, those words, they changed my life. I had a few weeks until my A-Level exams, I still had time to cram, to do the best I could. Make Dad proud. Take something from everyday, give it all in those exams and be someone, that’s what he would have wanted.
It paid off, I did well. I’ll tell you what, the look on old Miss Higgins face, priceless! That’s what I took from that day, the feeling of showing someone that didn’t believe in me that I was worth her time, that I could do better than some of her pretty show ponies. I waltzed into University, where I applied the same attitude – take something from everyday.
It was in my second year – heading for a 1:1 – that things changed. Mum decided it was time to move on, get away from the family home, and I went back there to help her move out. That was when I found it.
His diary.
I thought he wouldn’t mind me having a look, see if there were any other words of wisdom in there, something that could help me as much as ‘take something from every day’, see how Dad had applied it to his life.
Well that’s when I found out that he’d certainly lived up to it.
Back at University, I couldn’t concentrate. My mind kept wandering back to that diary, those words. The rest of the year passed by in a daze and that 1:1 was no longer on the cards. One of my tutors suggested a gap year, said it seemed like I’d worked so hard, I’d burnt myself out, said I needed to take time off to regain focus.
Friends said I should travel, ‘go find myself’, but I couldn’t see what I could take from that. I needed a new challenge, something in which I could follow my old man’s example.
I didn’t have to wait long for the right opportunity. The big PC store nearby was hiring, and I thought I could apply some of my knowledge – new and old – to the job. I told them I had experience with building PC’s, and was good with people, and that was enough for them. I started on the shop floor, talking to the customers, and passing the orders through to the back-room for building. I worked hard, I was enthusiastic, and was always kind and courteous to the customers. The manager liked this, and when I asked for a few hours working in the back-room, he was happy to grant me them.
Despite doing all of this overtime, I had a gap in my life - or so I told the woman at the community centre – a gap that I needed to fill by helping people. I started to come to the youth workshop, talking to the kids, and getting friendly with the staff there.
That’s when I suggested the computers. I laid it on thick about the importance of computer skills, how we’d be giving the kids an advantage.
I told them I could do them a good deal, they’d pay for the components, and I’d build them out of the kindness of my heart. They were all for it.
Everything was falling into place nicely.
Back at work I was beginning to get a feel for the type of customers we had. Most of them didn’t have a clue what they really needed, so I could sell them pretty much what they wanted. ’You just want to do a bit of word processing? Well you’ll need a top of the range graphics card’, ‘just want to browse the internet? Well you’ll need a decent sound card to get the full benefit’.
They wanted a PC, they got a PC. But when I was building them I changed a few things. I knew what they really wanted, and I gave them a PC that would do that. They wouldn’t think anything was wrong if I switched the processor for a slower one, or downgraded a few things.
All of the time I had the perfect place to hide these parts too. In the PC’s I was building for the community centre.
Of course, these PC’s never got to the community centre. Don’t worry, I didn’t rip them off, they got the PC’s they paid for – better even – it’s just that I built those at home with parts I bought on the cheap online. No, the ones at the store that I claimed were for the community centre made me a tidy sum from some of my mates at Uni.
I would have got away with it too if it wasn’t for one thing. Dad’s diary.
Mum decided to visit me at work one morning, when I was halfway through switching some parts around. She was roaring her eyes out, and the manager called me to see her, see what was wrong.
Well she’d read all about what Dad had been doing whilst he was working with rich clients. Secretly fiddling the books, not a noticeable about, but merely taking something from every day to make sure he was never short.
She was devastated, and it took half the morning to sort her out. When I got back I was called into the manager’s office, and I knew it was all over. I knew they would have seen what I’d done. That, Your Honour, is why you find me before you today in this courtroom, I was honouring the last wish of my father…
Oooooooh, lovely :-D
Neat. :-D
I didn't see that one coming! :-D
I didn't see that one coming! :-D
Brilliance.
I'm repeating what they've said, but it's too true.
Smooooothhh.
The ice cream of the writing world, one could say.
...
I'm repeating what they've said, but it's too true.
Smooooothhh.
The ice cream of the writing world, one could say.
...
Meka Dragon wrote:
>The manager liked this, and when I asked for a few hours
> working in the back-room, he was happy to grant me them.
Heheh.
Ahem.
Smooth is the word, it almost glided through the mind.
>The manager liked this, and when I asked for a few hours
> working in the back-room, he was happy to grant me them.
Heheh.
Ahem.
Smooth is the word, it almost glided through the mind.
Brilliant.
It just flowed and went on nice and smoothly.
It just flowed and went on nice and smoothly.
I posted something similar to this some time ago.
It's not a true story:
I don’t know how long his hand had been cold when the nurses led me away.
All I could think of were those last words he said to me. ‘Take something from every day’. As I sat there, not even noticing him pass away, I thought about all of the days I’d wasted so far. All of the time I’d sat up in my room playing around with PC’s when I could have been doing something better, improving myself.
That day, those words, they changed my life. I had a few weeks until my A-Level exams, I still had time to cram, to do the best I could. Make Dad proud. Take something from everyday, give it all in those exams and be someone, that’s what he would have wanted.
It paid off, I did well. I’ll tell you what, the look on old Miss Higgins face, priceless! That’s what I took from that day, the feeling of showing someone that didn’t believe in me that I was worth her time, that I could do better than some of her pretty show ponies. I waltzed into University, where I applied the same attitude – take something from everyday.
It was in my second year – heading for a 1:1 – that things changed. Mum decided it was time to move on, get away from the family home, and I went back there to help her move out. That was when I found it.
His diary.
I thought he wouldn’t mind me having a look, see if there were any other words of wisdom in there, something that could help me as much as ‘take something from every day’, see how Dad had applied it to his life.
Well that’s when I found out that he’d certainly lived up to it.
Back at University, I couldn’t concentrate. My mind kept wandering back to that diary, those words. The rest of the year passed by in a daze and that 1:1 was no longer on the cards. One of my tutors suggested a gap year, said it seemed like I’d worked so hard, I’d burnt myself out, said I needed to take time off to regain focus.
Friends said I should travel, ‘go find myself’, but I couldn’t see what I could take from that. I needed a new challenge, something in which I could follow my old man’s example.
I didn’t have to wait long for the right opportunity. The big PC store nearby was hiring, and I thought I could apply some of my knowledge – new and old – to the job. I told them I had experience with building PC’s, and was good with people, and that was enough for them. I started on the shop floor, talking to the customers, and passing the orders through to the back-room for building. I worked hard, I was enthusiastic, and was always kind and courteous to the customers. The manager liked this, and when I asked for a few hours working in the back-room, he was happy to grant me them.
Despite doing all of this overtime, I had a gap in my life - or so I told the woman at the community centre – a gap that I needed to fill by helping people. I started to come to the youth workshop, talking to the kids, and getting friendly with the staff there.
That’s when I suggested the computers. I laid it on thick about the importance of computer skills, how we’d be giving the kids an advantage.
I told them I could do them a good deal, they’d pay for the components, and I’d build them out of the kindness of my heart. They were all for it.
Everything was falling into place nicely.
Back at work I was beginning to get a feel for the type of customers we had. Most of them didn’t have a clue what they really needed, so I could sell them pretty much what they wanted. ’You just want to do a bit of word processing? Well you’ll need a top of the range graphics card’, ‘just want to browse the internet? Well you’ll need a decent sound card to get the full benefit’.
They wanted a PC, they got a PC. But when I was building them I changed a few things. I knew what they really wanted, and I gave them a PC that would do that. They wouldn’t think anything was wrong if I switched the processor for a slower one, or downgraded a few things.
All of the time I had the perfect place to hide these parts too. In the PC’s I was building for the community centre.
Of course, these PC’s never got to the community centre. Don’t worry, I didn’t rip them off, they got the PC’s they paid for – better even – it’s just that I built those at home with parts I bought on the cheap online. No, the ones at the store that I claimed were for the community centre made me a tidy sum from some of my mates at Uni.
I would have got away with it too if it wasn’t for one thing. Dad’s diary.
Mum decided to visit me at work one morning, when I was halfway through switching some parts around. She was roaring her eyes out, and the manager called me to see her, see what was wrong.
Well she’d read all about what Dad had been doing whilst he was working with rich clients. Secretly fiddling the books, not a noticeable about, but merely taking something from every day to make sure he was never short.
She was devastated, and it took half the morning to sort her out. When I got back I was called into the manager’s office, and I knew it was all over. I knew they would have seen what I’d done. That, Your Honour, is why you find me before you today in this courtroom, I was honouring the last wish of my father…
It's not a true story:
I don’t know how long his hand had been cold when the nurses led me away.
All I could think of were those last words he said to me. ‘Take something from every day’. As I sat there, not even noticing him pass away, I thought about all of the days I’d wasted so far. All of the time I’d sat up in my room playing around with PC’s when I could have been doing something better, improving myself.
That day, those words, they changed my life. I had a few weeks until my A-Level exams, I still had time to cram, to do the best I could. Make Dad proud. Take something from everyday, give it all in those exams and be someone, that’s what he would have wanted.
It paid off, I did well. I’ll tell you what, the look on old Miss Higgins face, priceless! That’s what I took from that day, the feeling of showing someone that didn’t believe in me that I was worth her time, that I could do better than some of her pretty show ponies. I waltzed into University, where I applied the same attitude – take something from everyday.
It was in my second year – heading for a 1:1 – that things changed. Mum decided it was time to move on, get away from the family home, and I went back there to help her move out. That was when I found it.
His diary.
I thought he wouldn’t mind me having a look, see if there were any other words of wisdom in there, something that could help me as much as ‘take something from every day’, see how Dad had applied it to his life.
Well that’s when I found out that he’d certainly lived up to it.
Back at University, I couldn’t concentrate. My mind kept wandering back to that diary, those words. The rest of the year passed by in a daze and that 1:1 was no longer on the cards. One of my tutors suggested a gap year, said it seemed like I’d worked so hard, I’d burnt myself out, said I needed to take time off to regain focus.
Friends said I should travel, ‘go find myself’, but I couldn’t see what I could take from that. I needed a new challenge, something in which I could follow my old man’s example.
I didn’t have to wait long for the right opportunity. The big PC store nearby was hiring, and I thought I could apply some of my knowledge – new and old – to the job. I told them I had experience with building PC’s, and was good with people, and that was enough for them. I started on the shop floor, talking to the customers, and passing the orders through to the back-room for building. I worked hard, I was enthusiastic, and was always kind and courteous to the customers. The manager liked this, and when I asked for a few hours working in the back-room, he was happy to grant me them.
Despite doing all of this overtime, I had a gap in my life - or so I told the woman at the community centre – a gap that I needed to fill by helping people. I started to come to the youth workshop, talking to the kids, and getting friendly with the staff there.
That’s when I suggested the computers. I laid it on thick about the importance of computer skills, how we’d be giving the kids an advantage.
I told them I could do them a good deal, they’d pay for the components, and I’d build them out of the kindness of my heart. They were all for it.
Everything was falling into place nicely.
Back at work I was beginning to get a feel for the type of customers we had. Most of them didn’t have a clue what they really needed, so I could sell them pretty much what they wanted. ’You just want to do a bit of word processing? Well you’ll need a top of the range graphics card’, ‘just want to browse the internet? Well you’ll need a decent sound card to get the full benefit’.
They wanted a PC, they got a PC. But when I was building them I changed a few things. I knew what they really wanted, and I gave them a PC that would do that. They wouldn’t think anything was wrong if I switched the processor for a slower one, or downgraded a few things.
All of the time I had the perfect place to hide these parts too. In the PC’s I was building for the community centre.
Of course, these PC’s never got to the community centre. Don’t worry, I didn’t rip them off, they got the PC’s they paid for – better even – it’s just that I built those at home with parts I bought on the cheap online. No, the ones at the store that I claimed were for the community centre made me a tidy sum from some of my mates at Uni.
I would have got away with it too if it wasn’t for one thing. Dad’s diary.
Mum decided to visit me at work one morning, when I was halfway through switching some parts around. She was roaring her eyes out, and the manager called me to see her, see what was wrong.
Well she’d read all about what Dad had been doing whilst he was working with rich clients. Secretly fiddling the books, not a noticeable about, but merely taking something from every day to make sure he was never short.
She was devastated, and it took half the morning to sort her out. When I got back I was called into the manager’s office, and I knew it was all over. I knew they would have seen what I’d done. That, Your Honour, is why you find me before you today in this courtroom, I was honouring the last wish of my father…