I started to stress in the kitchen about work. I am just nervous. And despite how laid back people may think I am, I do tend to stress. It will be fine, it will all work out, I know. But, with no handover and literally nobody really knowing what it is I have to do, it is not so comforting when you have to work it all out yourself.
To use that jingoistic expression that I so hate, used by uptight HR chicks with bleach blonde hair, cat’s arse mouths and cunts tighter than rusted nuts, hit the ground running. Work it out myself? I am allowed to stress a little, I reckon.
Oh god, maybe I am just the whiny baby that Sam says that I am?
I had no muesli, so we were both having toast. I hadn’t finished the dishes from last night, which I was surprised about. Damn! sigh. I was making coffee and the toast popped. When I tried to hand Sam the cooked bread, he said, “My hands are dirty.” He then proceeded to fluff around blocking my way washing his hands in the kitchen sink.
Tum di dah. Tum di dah. (I'm still not sure if it was deliberate)
Sam said he’d make the Ciabatta toast, but Buddy headed off up to the front of the house, so Sam then went to retrieve him. Sam called and called, but Buddy just kept walking, as bulldogs do. Then Sam was back in the kitchen with Buddy’s squeakers, one in each hand squeaking them, calling Buddy’s name.
“Buddy, Buddy, Buuddy. Buddy, Buddy, Buuddy. Buddy, Buddy, Buuddy.”
Sam was doing the equivalent of a dance with castanets, as Buddy took no notice.
I was already stressing about work. No breakfast was being made. I had to wash dishes, make coffee and make the toast, so it would seem.
“Oh for goodness sake,” I said.
I marched to the stairs, straight up to the bulldog. I scolded him who was just making his way around the curve in the stairs to the second floor and to our bed. I picked him up carried him to the lounge room, put him down, slapping his arse in the process.
I stood in the middle of the lounge, pretending to have a squeaker in each hand, swivelled my hips, twisted on my feet and said,
“Buddy, Buddy, Buddy. What do you think that is going to do?” I rolled my eyes and headed back to the kitchen.
“Make the rest of the toast.”
Sam thought it was very funny and he started to mimic me.
Really? I wanted to break something, not the boyfriend, or the dog, although it was tempting, just something. I needed a punching bag.
Meanwhile, Sam was still laughing and still imitating my dance in the middle of the lounge room.
“Buddy, Buddy, Buddy,” he sang.
He was still laughing when we were in the bathroom together.
He was still laughing when we were getting dressed.
He, apparently, could no longer recognise my filthy look.
Sam and I both had on white shirts and black pants, we looked like waiters, as we left the house.
One laughing waiter. One scowling waiter.
It was a lovely fresh morning this morning, just the kind of morning that I like. The fresh breeze was blowing. Sam said that it was more like winter. I think the thing was that there was no humidity. The air was fresh and clean, not wet and sticky in which you are, I am more likely to sweat.
I flung my office window open as soon as I sat at my desk. And the lovely cold air blew in behind me. I am a bit of a fresh air nut. I love cold, crisp, clean air. I gulp it in in great big lung bucketfulls.
Good morning baby. Don’t forget this Saturday in Melbourne CBD event, White night. Sam
What? Christian
See never pay attention to me :( So sad! It’s the light show, project to the building. Sam
Sometimes, I am a little miffed by Sam’s criticism, even if he is kind of joking. You know with boyfriends, sometimes you have to pull them up...
You know something pumpkin, I think you are the nicest guy in the world, there is nobody who comes even close to you. I love spending all my time with you and if I only had to listen to your voice and what you had to say for the rest of my life I’d be a very happy man. Christian
Lovely. Sam.
I still didn't have much of an idea about the light show he was talking about. :)
The biscuits today were Butternut Snaps and Oreos.
Bevan didn’t even seem to be there today. He is away on study leave. Lovely. Clearly this is a stepping stone to somewhere else for him. Really? Study leave?
I’ve got the whole day to do as I like, fists in the air shaking, which usually means I do all the work I can and then I do as I like. That is what I have done.
It is midday. Oh, I did read the online news just a bit. Ha ha.
I was meeting with one of the new employees at 12.30. But, I was hungry before then so I headed over to the café and bought a ham roll and a chocolate muffin. Yum, yum. I still had no money in my wallet, shake of the head, so I had to pay with my card again. The roll and the muffin came to $9.20.
“Is that enough?”
“I’ll have to put it through as $10,” said the brown uniform. She looked like she should have been a plumber, I decided.
“Oh, okay then… um?” I quickly picked a nut health bar from the counter next to me.
“$12.50. Cheque or savings?”
I could see the nut bar had almonds on it. I was squinting, I didn’t have my glasses on, despite having them in my pocket.
“Pin number and okay.”
“I can’t eat almonds, can I swap this for something else?”
“Sure,” she said. I punched in my pin number.
I chose a yogurt cover health bar, so I wouldn’t buy anything with almonds on it again.
“Is this okay?”
“Oh…um…?
“I really must stop thinking I can see without my glasses on.” I laughed.
She laughed too. “Sure.” Shrug.
“Is there a price difference?”
“Yes, but never mind.”
“How much?”
“50c.”
I looked in my wallet but I only had 20c, which she declined.
I tried to get motivated during the afternoon. I did a few things, but not much. I was bored. I was even bored writing my journal. I kind of need to be under a bit of pressure to get myself up on the aquaplane of hard work. Otherwise, I so easily settle back into the nice, warm water of comfort and tread.
I have never had a great need to prove anything to anybody.
Sister Roz rang during the afternoon to say that the nursing home had called her to say that mum was, in their opinion, going downhill and that, perhaps, we might want to go and see her sooner rather than later. Apparently she is not sleeping, maybe she is in some sort of pain. They have consequently upped her meds. There has been some kind of black substance in her mouth, that may, or may not, indicate the presence of blood.
Poor mum. My smart, stylish, interesting, bold, adventurous, world travelling mum reduced to a sad husk of her former self.
I felt kind of sad.
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