Day off

Jack tried to get me to do the Impossible Job for another week. Really? A weeks worth of work squeezed into one day, just because some HR person is trying to make a name for herself. Oh no my friend, that is a whole world of pain with very little in it for me, other than an impossible work load that is most likely only going to destroy my good name... if I, indeed, have one. Okay, what good name I do have. I'm sure the HR person will be proved wrong in the end, but I am not going to end up as collateral damage in the process.

So, I lied to him. I told him I had a big family thing on over the weekend and couldn't work next Monday, which is not entirely untrue. Jack's a good Greek boy, I thought he'd understand. I could have just said I was unable to work. I um'd and ah'd about which path to take, the simple 'no', or the longer reason. I went with the longer reason. He agreed with me and essentially wished me well.

I stayed in bed till 11.11, Buddy and I. Lovely and warm.

So, a day off? What to do?

Have a haircut, pay money off my CityLink, bought toothpaste and a cheap dvd at the dvd shop sale. Four people asked me for a cigarette, do I look like a walking billboard? Two people asked me for money, do I look like a bank? The sun was shining, the sky blueish, Smith Street vibrant. Then I headed home, put colour in my hair, moisturised, hung the washing and took my curry lunch back to bed with my bulldog and watched the movie.

A Josh Lawson movie, Questions for Ben. Even if it is bad, Josh sure is pretty.

Buddy snored all the way through it. Philistine.