Man, what a day! Cleator-Moor, you’ve done it again. I swear, I thought I was just gonna have a chill day, but nah, the universe had other plans.
So, I roll outta bed, right? It’s like 7 AM, and I’m already regretting last night’s kebab. You know the one from that dodgy place on High Street? Yeah, that one. Anyway, I grab my coffee from the little café on Main Street. The barista, bless her, she’s always got a smile. But today? She looked like she’d seen a ghost. Turns out, the power went out in half the town. Classic Cleator-Moor, right?
I’m thinking, “Great, just what I need.” But whatever, I’m a broker. I gotta hustle. So, I head over to the office on Ennerdale Road. Traffic’s a nightmare, as usual. I mean, who knew Cleator-Moor could be so congested? It’s like everyone decided to drive at the same time. I’m stuck behind this old banger, and the driver’s just vibing to some old tunes. I’m like, “C’mon mate, we got places to be!”
Finally, I get to the office, and it’s chaos. My phone’s blowing up. Clients are panicking. “Where’s my money?” “What’s happening with the market?” I’m like, “Chill, people! It’s just Cleator-Moor!” But they don’t wanna hear it. They want answers.
Then, outta nowhere, my mate Dave bursts in. He’s all outta breath, looking like he just ran a marathon. “You won’t believe this!” he yells. Apparently, there’s a sheep on the loose on the A595. I’m thinking, “Only in Cleator-Moor, right?” So, we both dash out to see this spectacle. And there it is, a sheep just chilling in the middle of the road, like it owns the place. Cars are honking, people are laughing. It’s pure madness.
I snap a pic for the ‘Gram. Gotta document this, right? “Cleator-Moor: where sheep are the real traffic jams.” I’m cracking up, but then I remember I’ve got clients waiting. So, back to the grind.
The rest of the day is a blur. I’m juggling calls, emails, and trying to keep my sanity. At one point, I spill coffee all over my desk. Brilliant. Just what I needed. I’m wiping it up, and my boss walks in. “You good?” he asks. I’m like, “Yeah, just living the dream!” Sarcasm level: expert.
Then, around 3 PM, I get a call from this client. She’s in a panic. “I need to sell my house on Church Street ASAP!” I’m like, “Calm down, we’ll sort it.” But inside, I’m thinking, “Why do people always wait until the last minute?”
I rush over to Church Street, and it’s a lovely little spot. The houses are cute, but the pressure is on. I’m trying to keep my cool, but my heart’s racing. I’m like a bloody racehorse at the starting gate.
After a whirlwind of viewings, I finally get a buyer. Thank the heavens! I’m feeling like a champ. I text my mate, “Sold it! Cleator-Moor for the win!”
But then, just as I’m about to celebrate, I get a call from my mum. “You forgot to pick up the groceries!” Oh, great. Just what I need. So, I swing by the Co-op on the way home. It’s packed. I’m dodging carts like I’m in some sort of grocery obstacle course.
Finally, I get home, and I’m knackered. I flop on the couch, and all I can think is, “What a day!” Cleator-Moor, you’re a wild ride. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Tomorrow’s another day, and who knows what’ll happen? Maybe more sheep? Or maybe I’ll just get a quiet day for once. But knowing Cleator-Moor, that’s a long shot!