Moooooaannnnnnnnnnn

Aye currumba - these new people - darn them - they leave no signs.  No checklists with insultingly large ticks.  No leaving the grill door open so you know they've been.  Nothing.  Nada.  I have to wait (and anticipate) a letter containing disheartening comments.  Probably they will say something about my old fridge which is currently residing in my carport until such time as I can find someone to take it away.  Maybe they will insist it be gone in two weeks and come back and inspect.  Who knows?  I could care less.  I am sick.  I care for nothing.  Lord please kill me now, so that I do not have to suffer this cold further.

There are no obvious coughs or running red nose to garner sympathy with.  I just feel really really bad.  I live on in vain hope that Glenn Richards will magically release his solo album over the weekend and I can at least die happy.  (I have fingers crossed it will be out by the end of the year).

I am an embarrassement of a fangirl *sigh*  I acknowledge my failings.  When working the election hotline I mentioned him and Augie March whenever Shepparton cropped up or some other town mentioned in one of his songs.  Even Melbourne airport was a trigger, cause the only reason I knew how to spell it was because of The night is a blackbird.

Having spent the last month answering questions about early voting, whether or not somebody is on the electoral roll and attempting to reassure panicing little old ladies about fines, I am afraid I am a little over the election. 

I am still considering watching the coverage this evening, which will make this only the second election I have ever done that for.