Okay, back to the X Foundation, last day. Actually, I shouldn’t be like that, without panic-stations-Elaine around it is not a bad place to work. It is pretty simple, their process’ are straight forward, it is all pretty laid back, to tell you the truth. The finance manager seems nice, prissy, buttoned up gay. The HR chick is dating some midget named Happy, I kid you not. The accounts girl is the nice one – half Italian, 3 sons, the sixteen year old has a bad cold, I wanted to offer to rub his chest with vic vapour rub, you know, just to be nice.
The HR chick is like every other HR chick there is; everything at the last minute, has no idea about anybody else’s timeframe but her own, does everything to make herself look good, and, pretty much, work is a boyfriend substitute.
HR chicks, they are the archetypal quiet types until drunk, then they are the personality change, predatory messy bitch at the bar wanting to get fucked by anything, all the time denying it, of course, just to make themselves feel desirable. It is in their DNA, like the beige stockings and sensible shoes. It is the thought they have as they cry themselves to sleep. I am desirable, I am desirable, I am a hideous cow... sob, sob. The lament of the HR chick.
I was booked for 2 days, a third if necessary. The finance manager questioned me if I’d be done in two days.
I reckon, I said. I nearly have it all done.
He looked pleased. Actually, it was a cross between surprised and delighted.
Interpretation – Elaine is shit and this guy knows it. Oh, she is shit, we all know, but we are all just too corporate polite to say it.
It was my last day, end of my assignment, end of the week. All over, done, nothing more to worry about, yay! ...out into the play ground soon with the other kids.
It looked like I was working late. Rats!
My mobile had run out of batteries, earlier in the day, as the computer I was using just wouldn’t seem to charge it, or would it, as it may have turned out later? But, as far as I could see it wasn’t charging it. It said it recognised the new hardware, but the power in my phone continued to fall, 4%, 3%, off, black. The minutes ticked away, heading to 5pm. I had to guess at Sam’s email address, which I got right, so gold elephant stamp for me. Go home without me, I’ll see you at home. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to contact me. I find that infuriating, never knowing anyone’s phone number anymore, so reliant on technology and when it fails, we’re fucked. Cross face.
I wanted to wrap it up and leave on time at 5pm. The finance manager wanted me to fix the fault he has had with his system. I was resisting. He was insisting. I put a call into my head office. They were to call me back. I was waiting it out until the bell went, as they say. He wanted me to call back, as he knew I’d be heading for the door pretty soon. 4.55pm. I begrudgingly called them back, got through straight away. I got the answer I wanted. 5pm. I fixed the problem he’d had, that he obviously knew Elaine couldn’t fix. All good. 5.10pm. He wanted to have a word with me. Really? I wanted to leave. 5.15. He wants me back the first day of the financial year, to complete xy and z. In fact, he wants me to continue to come in a few days per month for the next few months. Sigh. Don’t tell anyone. 5.20. Yay! It was just what I wanted to hear. Not. I guessed he meant Elaine. Sure. 5.25. Only if it doesn’t interfere with getting other jobs, more hours. Two days a month is a difficult one to fit into a schedule, it is just annoying really, and hard to fit better hours around. I’m not telling him though.
It was raining when I walked out into Bourke Street at 5.30pm, everything was shiny, slick, black, wet, the world shone under the street lights. It was only raining lightly, so I still walked home. I had to pop up my umbrella half way home when it got heavier. I always like to hold off with the umbrella as though it proves something, my metal, my strength, what a man I am, I don’t know. I popped it opposite the Princess' Theatre. Have you ever realised that it is, in fact the Princess' Theatre and not the Princess Theatre?
We took Buddy for a short walk to the supermarket and not a long walk around Fitzroy to the supermarket, like we usually do. As it was still raining, and it was cold and Sam always acts like his hair is going to frizz if it gets wet. It was a dark shiny night with a fine mist of rain reflected against the headlights of the oncoming cars. We held the large umbrella over us both, over the 3 of us, not that Buddy cares if he gets wet.
We ate Japanese curry, lovely. Sam cooked, like he always does. I don't know how I crack it for cooking boyfriends, but I always seem to. Is it want and necessity stuff? Maybe? I can cook, of course, but...
Sam headed to bed before 10pm still exhausted from all that fresh country air.
I stayed up as I have tomorrow off, Friday at home and watched TV. There was one of those science, all about the universe, docos that got my attention. Some chick who I’d never seen before was hosting it.
Buddy snuggled in between my legs, as I lay on the floor, and fell asleep. First of all he lay his chin on my arse, as I lay on my stomach on the floor, but then he turned around. I thought it was cute. I had to hold the camera backwards over shoulders to get a picture. I wanted to show Sam, I didn’t think he’d believe me without a photo.
It is nice staying up with nothing to do the next day. It is nice not having to conform, measure up, fit in.
No comments:
Post a Comment