I know. I know. Pathetic. Hands in the air. Shrug.
That’s what it does. That is the down side. That is the dirty little addict lurking inside of me. I hope I don’t think about it, the monkey doesn't need somewhere to grip.
The sun shone down brightly this morning, it was a gorgeous morning. There was that hazy, milky kind of morning sun hanging from the sky in glistening threads.
I was just pulling into the left hand lane at the Hoddle Street Intersection when some idiot came down on my left hand side. I was halfway over on morning go slow. He was clearly some crap driver who was primarily using the bike lane, and half of the lane that I was halfway into. I tooted him. He looked in his driver’s door rear vision mirror and ranted and raved. He looked like some (handsome, young) raving Middle Eastern loon. I quickly glanced for P plates, there were none. I sat there and laughed at him, as he yelled at my reflection in his rear vision mirror.
It was too nice a morning for dopes like him. Really, I thought. What is with the attitude? You are too young to be so angry, too handsome to screw up your pretty face with such rage. Nothing really happened, nothing so terrible. I tooted you to indicate you were doing the wrong thing, in my opinion. You didn’t even have to react, if you didn’t want to. You could have just lifted a finger, if that. He’s just a boy who thinks he knows more than he does, I suspect.
The other staff went into training for the morning. I was told about it last night, and it was suggested that I should go too. Really, I thought? What for? I am a temporary employee, you are wasting your dough? But this morning I was excluded, which I am so cut about. Ha, ha.
I was almost turned off my bag of Twisties, my brewed coffee and my internet news, I was so concerned about what I might be missing.
Shrug? They should give me more to do.
When Shayleen questioned it, Cathy said that she didn’t think I would really get any benefit from the training. Shayleen harrumphed, like all good Gen Ys, taking it kind of personally, as she is the training person.
Ha ha, suck shit! I thought with a completely blank face.
Shayleen and Cate are so into work, they are so HR through and through. They take it all so seriously. They get genuine joy at a work success. Good little Gen Ys that they are.
Cate is nice. She chatted to me in the kitchen while she prepared her lunch and I ate mine. I wanted 20c for a chocolate bar, as the machine was “correct change only.” Cate said I could go into the office and get 20 cents out of her bag. Funny, such an offer, it almost sounded dishonest. That is not the reason she is nice, because she gave me money, that is just an aside.
My bowel exploded after lunch, and with not so old memories about Vietnam, I wondered what that was all about? Shiver. Then I remembered, of course, last night’s smoking.
Actually, it has been good, I haven’t had the post quitting constipation, which I always hate. I have been taking Metamucil. But starting smoking again, that is a whole other story, you know, down there. I’m not sure, exactly, why you need to know this?
I was keen to get home. A man’s little helper. I was straight into it, right through the door, don’t you worry about that.
I left the back door open until Buddy finally managed to drag himself inside away from his bed. Dog? Be a dog!
A discovered if I say his name over and over and over again, he’ll come running. Perhaps, I am too laid back for him? I guess I have to put in some of the work too?
Sam came home and said, “You can’t even wait for me.” Standing at the lounge room door. As much as he protests, he never says no.
“I can wait for you to get home in future, honey.”
Sam soaked the warts on his feet in the blue plastic bucket, as we watched Big Brother.
We ate fried rice for dinner, homemade fried rice. It was yum too, Sam excelled himself.
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