Lawyer Jokes

At a convention of biological scientists, one researcher remarks to another, "Did you know that in our lab we have switched from mice to lawyers for our experiments?" 

"Really?" the other replied, "Why did you switch?" 

"Well, for three reasons. First we found that lawyers are far more plentiful, second, the lab assistants don't get so attached to them, and thirdly there are some things even a rat won't do."

One Term Tony Abbott, the first one term Prime Minister since World War 2

Abbott is often viewed through the prism of the issues he opposes – marriage equality, asylum seekers, climate change.

Tony Abbott is electoral poison to Victorians. Go Victoria. It has always been the state of sophistication. Mathew Guy has correctly pointed out that One Term Tony Abbott is poisoning the well of goodwill in the electorate and, of course, Guy is trying to distance himself from the electoral poison that Abbott is now widely understood to be to save his own political career.

And, apparently, One Term Tony was in South Australia this week, for the second time in just about as many weeks, because it is one of his most marginal states. Go South Australia. What was he doing, promising the state the submarine contract yet again. How many times has he dangled the submarine contract carrot to South Australia? It is so many times now that I am sure the Japanese will be writing One Term Tony Abbott a please explain letter.

So is that 2 states that Abbott has got offside?

So what was Matthew Guy talking about? One Term Tony Abbott said at the last election that he would allow a conscious vote on gay marriage (one amount of goodwill), which as we now know is another lie that One Term Tony Abbott told to get elected. To make sure a conscious vote wouldn't happen, One Term Tony Abbott, unusually, bought all of the National Party MPs into the vote, to bolster his conservative view. Then he threatened his ministers with the sack if they dared to cross the floor against the decision, when the Liberal party has prided itself on allowing its MPs to cross the floor on any decision they felt they couldn't support. (would that be 100 years of goodwill poisoned?) This is often and vocally sited as a difference between the Liberal and Labor Party.

I think I feel a shift further towards a One Term Prime Minister coming on. That is if Abbott makes it as leader to the next election which is also now looking decidedly unlikely. It looks increasingly like we will have a one term Liberal Government which Tony Abbott will most likely not be leading at the next election.

You know, it is not even so much that I am morally opposed to everything that One Term Tony stands for, it is the fact that he was a pathological liar to win the last election, that is the problem I have with him; bringing politics into further disrepute, so much so that I feel the only alternative left to save faith in our democratic system is to establish an integrity commision that would review politicians. Not to mention the other problems I have with One term Tony - using refugees as a political pawn, using terrorism to distract the public from the mess he's made of the economy and his term of government, and denigrating a whole group of people, Muslims, in the process, deliberately introducing policies to widen the gap between rich and poor, are all up there too with the reasons I feel One Term Tony is the worst politician Australia has ever had.

One further fact of note, Abbott, Morrison, Abetz, who all crushed the vote on gay marriage, are all the devout Christians. Abbott's proposed remedy for this issue is a plebiscite which is the Christian Lobby's preferred option seen as the perfect vehicle to kill of the issue all together.

Poisoning the good will of the electorate, yes, I think so.

The (inevitable) Blame Game

So, Kirin got her arse kicked by (our boss) Remy, aka Paddington Bear, for not having an answer for a potentially huge problem that has cropped up in the last week.

According to Kirin, it is being pushed by, as Kirin likes to call her, Fat Guts Carol Brady (actually, Kirin just calls her Fat Guts. I know, lovely. I add the Carol Brady) – you know those future shots of Bart Simpson where his life hasn’t gone so well and he is fat and middle aged and losing at life, well, here we have the living embodiment of Carol Brady if she hadn’t married Mike and she didn't have Alice and her life hadn’t turned out well, you know,  prefect. What can I say, her name is Carol Brady (or is it Carol, or is it Brady? What did my lawyer say again?) and she kind of resembles a tired, stress eating, over weight Mrs Brady, (same short hairdo with a mullet) proving that on some occasions comedy really does write itself – one of the multitude of HR Amazon Warriors (of Lesbos), who has been hired temporarily, but who is so desperate for a permanent contract, that she has trawled through the procedures of the company until she has come across one that is wrong, with which she can now curry favour towards gaining permanent tenure.  “Look at me, look at me, look the fuck at me!” That is what modern corporate life is all about. You know, if I have to stand on you to get ahead, I will. If I have to crush you, if I have to destroy you, I will.


“The moll (sometimes Kirin’s 1970’s caravan park upbringing shines through) wasn't good enough for a permanent role,” spat Kirin. “But they bring her in temporarily and I have to put up with this shit.” (That's true, she did apply for a permanent role, for which she was turned down) Truthfully, nobody was worried about the problem until Fat Guts Carol Brady picked it up and ran with it.

Did I mention she has psoriasis on her face. Yes, very unfortunate.

The problem? It's a liability issue that was set up umpteen accounting mangers and who knows how may HR directors ago, which Fat Guts Carol Brady has, essentially, dumped in Kirin’s lap. Poor Kirin. She doesn't really understand the problem. Poor Kirin. How did she get her job? Poor Kirin, one more thing she can get wrong.

To put it into the rather potty mouth vocabulary of the old slapper Kirin herself, "He ripped me a new one over this." This caused me to picture what Kirin might look like in the nude, bending over all Rubenesque with two shit holes, one brown and velvety and one new red, raw and bleeding, quite possibly with a blood trail down the back of her right thigh. I shook my head. Kirin, as cunning as a rat, who misses nothing, picked up on my head shake and asked me what had just happened.

"Oh nothing, just a chill," I said. (I mean, how would I even begin to try and explain that mental image to her? It’s cerebral suicide to even try to picture it again)

Anyway, Fatty Cake, the watcher, who, I am sure, despite her previous claimed feats of grandeur, is also keen to ingratiate herself into our small NGO world, told Kirin she would look into the problem (de jour). And she did and she presented a solution. So Fatty Cake is now Kirin's new best friend. (Who saw that coming? Not moi)
When Fatty Cake was here to take Kirin's job from her, Fatty Cake was incompetent, and Kirin referred to Guru Greta to get dirt on her, but now she is the latest "one" who Kirin can offload her work onto she is Kirin's NBF. So, that makes me the odd one out, a dangerous place to be in Kirin's world, I know that.

Kirin had told me that Fatty Cake reported me being rude to Happy to Remy and he was furious about it. Apparently, Kirin stuck up for me, of course.

"I told him that was unlike you," said Kirin. Yeah, yeah, tell it to the judge, I thought.

I told Mazz about what Kirin had said about me being rude to Happy. Mazz responded with, "Don't believe anything Kirin says, she will tell you anything to make herself look good. She is trying to put you off Fatty Cake."

So, that is a strike against me with Remy.

And now, suddenly, Kirin and Fatty Cake are bonding. (It's unnatural)

Who is the only person on the out now? (Yes, this black duck)

I told you that I had the premonition that this review process is, probably, not going to go well for me. (Big Eyes)

So what to do?

“Resign,” says Mazz. “Resign! Of for God’s sake resign! What do you need to happen?”

Go talk to Happy, I thought. I might as well start from the bottom and work my way up, not that it is going to do me any good, that boat has sailed and will never be fixed. (I must start making a list, so I don't forget) it will remain a smudge against my name, no doubt. Some things once said can’t be unsaid.

"Hi," I said to Happy. "Apparently, I was rude to you the other day, so I would just like to apologise."

"Huh?" was Happy's response. She has the vocabulary of a pouting child, at the best of times.

"The other day, I was rude to you."

"Who told you that?"

"The new accounting project manager, says I was."

Happy looked baffled. She glanced in Fatty Cake's direction. She shook her head. "You weren't rude to me."

"I'm getting my arse kicked over it."

"Christian, you have never been rude to me." She shrugged. "I don't know why anyone would say that."

So, there you go. The vipers are pairing off and I just have this uneasy feeling that I am going to be the sacrificial lamb. Kirin will blame me for anything she can, I know that. And the biggest problem I have is that I don't really give a shit. Not really. Two shits, don’t care. There are people without fresh water in the world, the planet is slowly being poisoned, half the world is gorging itself while the other half starves, our problems are nothing. Rightly, or wrongly, I don't do Kirin's job because I don't want the pressure of it. I don't want to spend my life in an endless round of meetings and gabfests with people who have nothing in their lives other than meetings and gabfests (to make them feel important). I don't want to do Kirin's job because I don't want to have to answer to the execs and the directors et al. I simply go to work for the money, which allows me to live the important part of my life, the part that doesn’t involve work.

But, you know, I figure that is all right because I never applied for Kirin's job. That is worthy of a repeat, I didn't apply for Kirin's job, so naturally I don't have Kirin's job. So, everyone, why do you keep trying to make me do Kirin's work? Maybe this is a mistake, it probably is, but I'm really happy to accept less money for an easier life. That was my decision so would you all please respect the fuck out of it. (How do I actually say that to the salt mine workers? You know, nicely? So the easily offended don’t, you know, get offended?)

I promise not to stab any of you bitches in the back, if all you cunts promise to keep your knives holstered. That is my solemn corporate promise.

Nice work, dickhead

I Think I Have Felt This All Before

Kirin heard on the grape vine that Jack, my old boss, would never hire Fatty Snoop Cake Lady. Not in a pink fit, not that I am inferring that Jack is gay, not for a moment. (I just like the image of something pink shaking and quivering) He considers her to be unreliable, she has a tendency to submit workcover claims (all that Madeira cake, one suspects) and he would not consider her an expert in (name of our software application) I didn't ask, but this must have come from Guru Greta.

It is interesting as Fatty Snoop Cake Lady claims to have done amazing things. Run corporations, no less. Worked as the head of mergers. She has advised the captains of industry. I'm sure she said something about being a consultant on draft industrial relations legislation to Federal Parliament, but, I could have misheard. She claims an awful lot, and yet, here she is performing our little procedural audit.

"They" made me do induction yesterday, despite me being inundated with work. I was doing it with Fatty Cake, as she is such a company woman, naturally. She sat next to me with all the other newly minted surfs to the co. They were a quiet bunch, a handful of accountants (I so hate referring to myself that way) a couple of humanitarian workers, a couple of cute project boys, one who could sing and an American with a cute smile and the American gift of the gab. Odd, he was quiet when it all got going. It was all moderately interesting, stuff I'd never heard about before, so it held my attention, in a new-information-sponge kind of way. All eminently forgettable. However, they gave us morning tea and lunch, so that is something.

So with Fatty Cake next to me who, presumably, was still monitoring my performance, I asked questions. I figured it must count for something. I was the only one asking questions, even if Fatty Cake tried to nuzzle in on my territory a couple of times.

In the break, I heard Fatty Cake saying that she'd like to teach young people to budget and invest money and buy shares and invest in investment properties. 

"They teach english and maths at school but they never teach finance."

Oh really, I thought. Is there nothing this woman can't do? But, I ask you, and this is a terribly discriminatory thing to say, I grant you, but how seriously is someone going to be taken who is setting themselves up as a life coach, when they are sitting opposite you with no neck, tuckshop lady arms that stick straight out from her sides because of the rolls of fat in her arm pits, a face contorted out of shape buy gigantic, distended cheeks, with a skirt of flesh hanging down to her knees, clearly visible under her tent dress, as she sits opposite you. She claims to have all the answers and yet we are all expected to over look that obvious failing in her life. That's terrible, I know, but that is reality. I can't help but wonder how her heart copes when I look at her. She makes me feel uneasy. You know, should I be swatting up on CPR at night just in case?

Do you get that, maybe, perhaps, I don't like her all that much. She told Kirin that my customer service was not up to scratch and that I was rude to one of my colleagues, let's call her Happy. (as she gives everyone the impression that she is about as happy to be working at (name of company) as she might enjoy having her left tit hacked off with a rusty knife) I have taken on a role - which I am kicking myself about now. Why? What was I thinking? - from which three people in the last 12 months have run from the building screaming, with which I am now really struggling and that is her assessment of me. Nothing about me being over whelmed with work. Nothing about the job being too much for one person, for which there is ample evidence, which is one of the reasons she is here in the first place. I was promised something would be done about the workload, that something would be done about people who do not stick to deadlines and the person I was supposedly rude to is a serial offender. Oh... really?... I couldn't help but be pissed off when Kirin told me. I was promised the procedures would be looked at and that the system would be fixed and yet the very first feedback I get is criticism?  I'm sorry, but please excuse me if I suspect that this review isn't going to go all that well for me.

They have only just provided me with my new log on, a month late, but who the fuck is counting, which I am going to have to spend a few hours this morning getting all of my specific systems attached to, with a recalcitrant IT department, (even if I would like to slap plump Nick's ample rump when he comes over, but lets not get off topic) and I have deadlines today. I was away from my desk all day yesterday. Wednesday I struggled to cope with the tsunami of emails that rolled in Friday, Monday and Tuesday while I was finalising all of the last periods figures. This role has a crazy out of control work load and I am getting nailed for being short with someone, no baby that just isn't going to fly with me.

Oh yes, I know, shit or get off the pot, Christian.

I am really beginning to believe it is now a matter of when I resign, and run screaming from the building, hands flailing over head, like the three who have come before me, not if. When did I go permanent? Four weeks ago? That is a record for me. Maybe only topped by my uni job at Kew Safeway, when my job changed on a daily basis, and the manager told me there was no chance in hell that I could transfer to Camberwell Safeway, which was much much closer to home. I lasted a week there.

Oh Jesus fuck me Christ, is it me? As I told (boyfriend) Sam, this is rapidly beginning to feel like the unhappy feelings I had when I worked for the cuntful law firm. Is the conclusion to be drawn here that I am the common denominator?

I told Mazz. Her response was, "Get out. Get out now!"

Street Art, Fitzroy

Really, it is Hopeless

Kirin continually claims that our department is a two man team. (hands in the air, big eyes) I'm not exactly sure why she doggedly sticks to this idea, but she does. (Shake of the head)

Let’s stop for a moment and peruse the evidence thus far. Rita – who I saw a photo of the other day, just out of the blue, and she looked like Magda’s sweaty sex crazed wife in a neck brace, which made me inhale in shock and laugh all at the same time, kind of like inhaling porridge – was walked off the premises, the details of which are still sketchy. Kerin, who was employed to support Rita, only days before Rita’s demise, wanted to walk out into the traffic rather than return to the office, at the end of her tenure. I was bought into support Kerin, as she flailed and stalled like a light plane dropping from the sky, out of fuel. Mazz, who is sparklingly positive just naturally, was the great white hope, (viewed with suspicion from the outset by Kirin) however, she suffered an attack of the black dog, days after my first term was over, a month after she started. I was hastily called back to do some project work, during which time Mazz said that it was only me who made her laugh in the end, as she hung on by her fingernails. She got the hell out quickly, as she has a well developed sense of self, four months and she was done. So, yes, I can see the basis of the two man team claim, Kirin, I really can.

She keeps urging me to agree with her in discussions on the topic, again I am not really sure why. It leaves me a little baffled, and I keep thinking, surely she must have changed her thinking by now. How many of her staff have to have breakdowns? Is she blind? Distracted? Does one of them have to go hara-kiri in the middle of the office, slapping her in the face with their still warm intestines? Thwup! The blood splatter on the wall behind her to stand testament.

“You upset mate?”

“What makes you think…” They spit blood and drown on their own stomach acids.

“As long as you are okay.”

But no, she is back on message, her message. Today in our first talks exploring change with Fatty Snoop Cake Lady, when I walked into the room, Kirin was in full flight. Holding court.

“Poor Kerin couldn’t cope.” Kirin rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Mazz just wasn’t suited too it. Oh God!” She touched me on the arm and laughed her throaty laugh. “What is it you say she had? What is it?” Her beaming expectant gaze took on shades of mania. It made me shiver.

“Um” Don’t make me say it.

“Go on? Tell her? What was it you used to say? So funny.”

Really? “Um?” She was just organised.

“Oh come on.”

“O… C…D?” Mazz would kill me, it was a joke that she and I had.

“Ha!” Kirin cackled. “Yes. OCD. Yes. You make me laugh. Ha. Ha,” she said. “But it is only a two man job.” She reached across the table for Fatty Cake’s hand. “Really.” Fatty Cake pulled her hand away.  She had a look on her face as thought she’d just discovered she’d soiled her panties. 

“No, it is. Tell her it is,” said Kirin.

“Well…”

“It is.” Kirin insisted.

“Um.”

“No, it is,” she said.

But, what I say, what I always say is, If you fix the work flow problems, if you fix the internal customer problems, if you fix the fact that nobody else has to stick to a deadline except for us? And all our internal customers who just don’t give a shit, when is it ever going to be their fault. Managers, HR, the idiot staff? Who is going to make them follow procedure. If you support me, Kirin, maybe, it could be. If you, actually, do the things you say you are going to do? If... if... if... if all of the problems are fixed, yes, then maybe, I would agree with you that it could be a two person team.

But those things aren't fixed and it is not a two man team now. Shake of the head. This is the key issue of which everybody seems to be losing sight. Yes if, yes I suppose it could be, in the future I am kind of sure, yes, if you help and didn't spend all of your time on the internet/on Facebook/ on the phone to your children/telling your husband he's a fuckwad/are on a continual fucking email to your best friend Michelle, as Mazz claimed she was. If you didn't spend your time yapping to whoever will chew the fat with you.

So… in reality, it is hopeless.

As nice as she is, (I’m trying to sound convincing) if you don’t count the back stabbing… Kirin doesn't really get it. She attempts to help, or should I say, she gives lots of lip service to helping, but in reality even if she does help she never, actually, ever, finishes anything. I just look at her when she tells me for the umpteenth time that she didn't complete X, Y and Z.

“Oh, so you finished at X?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” she says. “I got that far…”

I could feel my eyes rolling into the back of my head until only the whites were showing.

I keep waiting for the penny to drop, but it never does. Surely, if you actually tried for a third staff member all of our lives would be better? She doesn’t get it. I roll my eyes. I struggle to pick up the pieces she leaves unfinished. Thanks for the help, I think.

I direct her to do stuff now, I don’t hold back, this is survival baby. But Mazz and I both agreed that she is reluctant because she doesn’t really know how.

It is all a wing and a prayer with her. She does everything at the last minute, when the pressure is on. That is how she operates. And when it goes wrong, as it inevitably does, there is always someone to blame. Rita, Kerin, Mazz and no doubt me. And the world turns.

When Fatty Snoop Cake Lady first arrived, Kirin set up a new login for her. A fairy straightforward procedure, one would think. I'm not sure what planet Kirin was on, but she decided deleting all of the old logins, of all the people who are now collateral damage of her management, was a good idea. Let's not mention how that destroyed all the audit reporting. But, the biggest problem was that she managed to delete my login too. (Do you believe it? Mazz spat when I told her. It could only be called contempt. “You have to resign.”) Suddenly, I couldn't do any work.

"Oh, sorry. Ha ha,” Kirin said. “I don't know how I did that," Big eyes. Shrug.

I could make a suggestion.

Yesterday, I realised, that all of the automatic EOM reporting I set up went with my deleted login. Mazz and I set it up before she left. It took a couple of days, with Mazz advising, as Kirin doesn’t have a clue. All gone. The initial set up is a pain in the arse, but I figured I only had to do it once.

Ba! bar! Fail! I wanted to hurt her.

I needed my own logon once I went permanent. Everything I do relies on it. Kirin has had 6 weeks to set it up, with me reminding her constantly, but, somehow in Kirin's inimitable style, it didn’t get done. As usual, it was someone else’s fault.

“Those IT boys just aren’t helping me.” She said it like she actually believed it.

It finally got issued to me today, the day before my first deadline. The situation I so wanted to avoid. So, I have to get the recalcitrant IT department to set me up, which never works with the second rate systems not for profit have. I have to finalise my setup with the international money market provider and then, actually calculate and present all of the calculations up for international transfers on the day of my deadline.

Are you keeping up? I’m not sure that I am. Head spinning.

Kirin just doesn't really get it, this is never going to change. I guess, I know this. Even if all of the multitude of problems with this role were, actually, fixed, Kirin is still never going to get it. You can’t teach old dogs and all that. As long as it doesn’t turn into lying down with them…

So, what am I doing?

When I took the job, I was worded up by our boss, Remy, Paddington Bear, as Mazz and I called him, in his adorable duffle coat, for which he has a penchant – in the beginning, I wanted to slap the top of his head, like Benny Hill, he’s short and kind a cute. Now, I want to slap his face hard, like Bette Davis, more Baby Jane than Now Voyager, you understand.)

“I’m going to fix the problem. If it is Kirin, so be it,” said Remy. “It may not be particularly pleasant for the next few months. But if you hang on and support me, the job is yours, permanently.”

That is what I am doing. That is what you are doing, I tell myself… and I tell myself… and I tell myself again. (Shake of the head)

That's $75 worth of food per person per sitting

Fatty Snoop Cake Lady was talking about the cost of eating out. She said that she and her partner had eaten out twice in the last week and it had cost them $300.

That was no real surprise to me.

That's $75 worth of food for each person at each sitting, I think. No wonder she has a skirt of flesh hanging over her thighs.

Apparently, she and her partner met at a night for big ladies in Brunswick. I wonder if he is as fat as her? Or, maybe, he is a feeder. The whole concept of feeders fascinates me so much. It is, it would seem to me, to be so wrong. I don't care if you like fat chicks, fat boys, I think there should be more celebration of the spectrum of what turns us all on sexually, it is, in all reality, a rich tapestry, which is not simply contained to that ripped skinny model that popular culture puts up as the ideal, but how could you put the person you love's health in such danger? I ask you?

Italian heirloom eggplant

Green Radish

I love those Italian heirloom greens and purples

Yellow pepper

Nobody Dies Anymore

Passed away. Aunt Maggie passed away last night. 

Actually, she died. What is wrong with the expression died? Nobody seems to use it any longer, everybody passes away now a days. Nobody dies any more.

When did we decide "died" was unPC?

I don't really know why this expression annoys me. I'm thinking it is just more Americanisation of Australia. I guess that is the reason. It always feels like we are in denial whenever I hear it and that somehow passing away is better than dying.

My Boyfriend's Name Is Seth

Leo’s lovely boyfriend, Seth, told him yesterday, as he and Seth tendered the back garden in the gorgeous afternoon sunshine, that he wants to be called his boyfriend. 

"Boyfriend? Really?" 

Then Seth expressed an interest in being known as Leo’s boyfriend to his family, which made Leo laugh. Leo thought it was kind of charming. 

“You laugh?” said Seth

“Sure, why not,” said Leo. 

“You laughed?”

“Nervous reaction,” said Leo. “Of delight.”

Seth smiled.

“A place to road test a name,” said Leo. “We can be anybody we want, isn't that what they say? Isn't that the modern mantra?”

“So,” said Seth. “It will be from now on. Your boyfriend, Seth. Me?

“Yes.”

“For your older relatives, I hope this isn't too confusing.”

Leo shrugged. 

“For your newer relatives…” 

“Newer? ha ha, ho ho. Do I have any newer relatives?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Younger?”

“Younger.”

“It won’t matter, they already know you as Seth. Lovely Seth. Sweet Seth.”

“But not boyfriend.”

“The good thing about families is that they are immanently mutable, so I will be saying boyfriend, and your name throughout the whole family until boyfriend Seth is on all their lips.

“Just like I like to be on yours.”

“But that’s not your name.”

"No, not my name," said Seth.

They both laugh.

Leo grabbed Seth in a headlock and rubbed the top of his head.

@35

Are We Becoming More Stupid?

Are Australian's getting more stupid than ever before. They voted against a carbon tax, but they are gung-ho for a cat curfew.

Fatty Snoop Cake Lady

They've hired a woman to come in and overhaul our work procedures. Translation, spy on us. They didn't tell me this until a week, or so, after I accepted the role. Yay! Good one guys. 

You see, they don't think that manager Kirin is up to the job, which she probably isn't. I kind of feel sorry for her though, as I'm pretty sure nobody has given her any help. But, then again, that is why you are the manager, I guess, you know what you are doing, and you don't, actually, need help doing the day to day business of your role, that's why you are paid over a 100K a year.

Mazz pointed and laid blame squarely at Kirin's feet as she ran from the place screaming. Oh, no, it was Kerrin who ran from the place screaming. Mazz said she had never felt so stressed in all her life and simply walked away. I helped them both and knew the deal and yet I took the role anyway. How stupid was I? I was only focussing on the fact that I could walk there in a very short space of time. It's true.

So the woman hired to delve into every facet of our working lives started Monday. She seems very nice, but we should never loose sight of the fact that she is there to find our mistakes, or, according to our boss, Kirin's mistakes. She seems to be sucking up well, thus far. You know, ingratiating herself, being oh so friendly. She is just one of the girls, happy to help out. She is there to make our lives easier, or at least, not to make them any more difficult. There is a difference.

She has a soft voice and she is bigger than Obese Olwyn. I know, I know, in this hyper sensitive PC world you are not allowed to mention how fat somebody is, (I'd hate to have a charge of bullying against me) however, it was no surprise to me when she said she loved to bake cakes in her spare time.

I'll shall call her Fatty Snoop Cake Lady. 

First day, we had out department team meeting, where we get to listen to all of the minions trumpet their achievements, making themselves out to be grander pooh-bahs than they really are. Oh, they are so boring, bean counters the lot of them, and they just bang on with the most mundane stuff, until I often get to the point when I want to scream, "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Nobody cares if you people live or die! Stop yabbering on about things that mean nothing at all to the greater good of the planet." Such is the excitement of modern day corporate life. Well, it was hot in there and as I said the conversation was about stuff that could give the makers of valium a run for their money, and Fatty Snoop Cake Lady nodded off. Yes, nodded off. She nodded off several times. I mean, every time I glanced over at her her eyes were closed. I can't blame her, I wanted to do the same thing, but it was her first day. Not really a good look, hey? Good on her, I thought secretly, quite possibly she is the smartest person in the room, I thought next. But, is that balls, or stupidity? I don't know.

In God's Care

In god's care? What dullards still believe this twaddle?

It is fair to say that Sam has enjoyed his time off

Sam starts his new job today, at 10.30am, he is sad. "Why are you making me do this," he moaned. "I just want to stay home with Buddy and Milo and have dinner ready for you when you get home." (Oh yes, very Donna Reed.) {Notice, how I'm still going to work, I don't get to retire}

He hasn't worked since April, well, he has, he has done some contract work, but he hasn't had a full time job since April. He loved his last job and is still a little disillusioned that he got made redundant. Everybody is when that happens, to a certain extent, I guess.

I tell him he should start his own business, he counters that by saying he wants to retire, stay home with Buddy, take him for walks.

"You're a little young to retire," I say.

It is fair to say that Sam has enjoyed his time off. You have time off, you work. The two are different and mutually exclusive, but it doesn't mean you can't enjoy both. You do one, you do the other, one doesn't prohibit enjoying the other, one can be enjoyed, followed by the other. 

He doesn't have to start until 10.30 and here I am up at 7am getting ready for the office. [as it turned out, 10.30 is pretty much his new offices starting time, it makes it a late day]

Buddy comes and sits in my lap this morning, as I sit crossed legged on the floor at my coffee table at my laptop, all 25 kilos of him and I whisper to him that he is going to be home on his own again from today onwards. He snuffles and grunts.

I push him sideways to sit next to me. I have a really sore calf muscle, I've had it for weeks now, maybe months and it is beginning to shit me. Why won't this get better? For the life of me I couldn't work out why. I thought it might have been because I was doing a lot of walking, even if that really didn't make much sense. Then, last weekend, when my calf was feeling sore, Buddy came and sat in my lap and put his head on my shoulder, as he does, and I realised he was sitting right on my calf right where it is sore. 

Oh, I thought.

Now I am getting him to sit next to me. He snuggles up just the same. Hopefully now my leg ache will get better.

Everything Was Okay Today

Everything was okay today, it all went swimmingly, actually. No problems. I worked like a beaver.

(boyfriend) Sam says I am just a drama queen who likes to whinge.

Really? I said.

Boyfriends can be mean.

I got it all under control today. The computer problems I was having yesterday morning threw me and threw my work out. But, today was no problem. The HR bitches and the Finance trolls (did you like that?) (or should that read, my fellow finance trolls?) were all coming at me for information, figures, spread sheets, journals, reports (when I see it written down, I think, oh, how did I end up this person?) that they have already been supplied with, a multitude of stuff. "Yes, sure, no problem," I say politely. 

My newly found zen work attitude, these people are all morons and they will always be morons, no use getting angry with them, it is beyond their control, just give them what they want. (I have an IQ of 140, most of them don't know what IQ means. :) ) I used to rail and tell them that all that stuff had already been done for them, but it takes just as much energy, if not more, to do that as to just supply what they want again. It is annoying and probably means they will keep doing it, but it is the course of least resistance for me.

What Was I Thinking?

Oh, just me, Mazz has gone. It all came at me, like a storm today, the work, the demands of the staff. Only Mazz and I realise that our one man job needs a two man team. Oh, have I been overly ambitious, or just stupid? There was so much coming at me, by the end of the day I felt like I was going just a little crazy. Exactly what Mazz said.

Kirin doesn't get it, doesn't have any idea how busy I am. She dragged me into a meeting today, on a topic she doesn't get, and she is dragging me into another meeting tomorrow just to hold her hand. Kirin you are the manager, manage.

I always said I wouldn't work in not for profit, and here I seem to have taken on the worse role of the lot. What is it with not for profit employees? Is it because they feel they are doing what is morally right, that makes them so demanding? All right brain and no left brain makes for stupid smart people, the worst kind?

What was I thinking? Did my ego get in the way and have I just tripped over it? Did I make myself the next little yellow duck in the shooting gallery valiantly trying to get to the end of the conveyor belt without somebody shooting me down? Did I really think I could do better that the three previous people in this role who ran screaming from the place? Stupid me.

I had a good job, doing contract work. I just had to accept that I'd earn slightly less, and had to travel slightly more, to have so much more pleasure in working. I had the all care and no responsibility ratio just right. I just wanted to settle for a moment, be in one place, not far from home. Did I just settle in the wrong spot?

Big sigh. First day.

My Day Cleaning The Brass

I love all of that stuff, vases, and the like. My grandmother's, my old aunts, I claimed all their stuff that I liked. "Yes, sure, I'll have that." I used to love wandering around op shops and junk shops when I was young. As a teenager, I like vases, I collected Remued, but Mark, my exboyfriend, took a liking to them, so most of them disappeared with him when we spit up, but, you know, it is nice to share. Nothing is forever, everything has its time, so pass it on, pass it on, and you get just as much in return. So, I liked antiques and cooking and yet they were all still shocked when I told them I was gay.

Cleaning My Brass

I sat outside in the sun on my back veranda with rubber gloves and clothes of all kinds and polished away happily. It was a lovely day, a sunny winter's day. The sun shone, the sky was blue. Sam cleaned the garden. Buddy lay in the sun with his face between his paws.

Cleaning My Brass

All sorts of brass vases. I've pulled them from cupboards where they had been stored away.  Over the years, successive housemates have taken it upon themselves to pack my stuff up in boxes and store it away in cupboards. I admire people with minimalist decor, but I like stuff. Clearly, I have had housemates who have leant more towards minimalist. I don't care, whatever? And it is lovely to discover them all over again when I stumble across a box in the back of a cupboard.