Sunday, July 31, 2011

Sunday morning at work

Another awesome post by Black Hockey Jesus.  What must it be like to be so consistantly awesome?  What would it be like to have a head and a heart that thinks stuff like this?  My head don't think nothink.  I exist in static until somebody asks me to do something. 

This is the thing about being an easy going person - one just doesn't care about stuff.  Hard to blaze a trail when you have nothing you feel strongly about.  I am a moon without a planet and a sun to circle.

Sometimes its so empty in here that a word or the end of a sentence will echo for a while afterwards.  Moonwalk around my brain at a gentle bounce.  Fecking vandals get everywhere though.  There are large sections with rude words sprayed in flurescent paint.  And what is a cigarette butt doing here?  Arsing things get everywhere.  Some people are soo inconsiderate.  And whats this?  Hell, would it kill to use the rubbish bin?  It's not bush week you know!

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Aye Currumba

So ... I gave notice yesterday  - but for 2 September.

I want to try and get up to date and leave a nice organised desk for the next person (and to save up for the period of unemployment that is undoubtedly going to follow). 

Was hoping to let it slide for a while without any announcements, but HRish person is participating in charity bike ride and dropping in to office tomorrow and they want to do an exit interview.

My nerves are a bit worn and I keep suddenly crying without warning, so I'd really rather not have an exit interview right now.  I hate crying publicly.  It is humiliating.  And I look dreadful.  All snotty and red blood shot eyes. 

Lady who was demoted is going to go spare and newbie trial manager is going to be unhappy - which will make me unhappy because he is quite lovely. 

Lady who was demoted's 'that's not my job anymore' does not quite seem to be garnering the attention she appears to want - but she is not letting this stop her.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

morning

... and saturday doth roll round again and I am number one on google search for "dribbling panic"

I am at work again

I feel like I'm miming against a strong wind
there is a sense of urgency and I'm really working it
but I just can't care much

did I admit I need to eat humble pie regarding the woman from down south?
she was helpful when she was here
but more importantly she didn't get in the way
she did indeed fly like an eagle
I tried not to be a turkey

demoted lady started off well this week and then deteriated into a major pain in the arse and then seemed to be pulling back out of it again yesterday - she is fantasising conspiracies on the part of mature trainee who has been placed in her job - i wish people would stop casually asking 'how are you?' in greeting because she tells you

I have my fingers crossed for next week

I used to write bad poetry for amusement value
type out little bits from books I wanted to share
and take photos for this blog

I feel like I've turned into some eating shitting automaton
2011 has not been a good year
I am determined to do something nice for myself next year

in the meantime I shall keep buying tickets int he RSL Art Union
just because I like looking at the pictures of the houses
and thinking about what I would do if I won them
which I won't
of course
but I apear to need assistance to fantasise lately
cause my brain is like a desert
like desscicated coconut
I can hear the 'shrrushhhhhhhhhhshhurshhh' when i tilt my head

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Flashback - blog post from June 2008

I think I have thrush
The cliches are so right
I'd rather have one in the hand, then any number in bush

Ch-ch-ch-changes

I would like to say the stress and strain of upheavals at work have left me mad, bad and dangerous to know, but mostly I am just a bit sad.

And nervous.  Very nervous.

Someone was demoted and someone promoted and there are only three admin staff in the place, so its all close and personal.  There was weeping.

Resulting in an inability in me to sleep properly, culminated in me accidentially playing a computer game until 4:16 am Sunday morning, but which has had the happy result of causing me to dream about the computer game, rather than lay awake thinking about work.

Lady at the shop I buy my lunch from says her record for computer gaming was a recreational drug assisted three days.

Heck, I've only actually stayed awake all night twice in my forty years and I was trying to nod along knowingly.  I really must do some wicked things at some point.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Flashback poem - too much time

Tinted windows
bar my cage
I sit, ensconced in cushioned swivel chair
internalising rage
Against the perfect day, I can see emblazed 
in polarised technicolour glory
as I age my way through another sorry weekly working day

Mind … I would only waste it if were free
Curled with book in bed
Or watching TV

And what does that say about me?
When I don’t choose to be outside when I could be
Instead stewing in juicy daily envy

Do I only have a limited supply of outdoorsy urges?
That whining so easily purges?


Or is it some devious defence mechanism to distract
From what isn’t even a daily grind, but just lack
Of interest and ambition
To contribute! change the world! 
for the better of men, women and children
guilt redirected from dwelling
on slack humanitarian drive
into wistful sighs over potential frolics outside

leaps about the place estatic

w00t w00t w00t
Mr Richards and Luscious Luscome are touring August/September
Will be in Brisbane at 'The Old Museum" 10 September
A saturday and everything
how excellent
perhaps I could fly down for it?
unless i quit my job
or become suddenly sensible and save money instead for when I potentially quit my job blah blah blah blah

If I go I'll have to sneak down without telling mother cause there won't be time to visit and she will do her narhna if I don't visit.

bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce

Sunday, July 10, 2011

But I slept better anyway

Sunday and I am torn between trying to do more work or tidying up?
A quandry.

I really should get home to hang out some washing at some point too, else next week I shall have to come to work wrapped up in a sheet.

But the office looks like a bomb's hit it and I think we are supposed to be suffering our yearly internal audit next week in addition to the blonde terror.

God.  I've only been here nine months.  I said at the interview I was happy to work hard, but I wanted a nice quiet job which I didn't have to stress about out side of work hours. hahahahahahahahahahahaahhahaahah

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Smallest violin in the world

A poor nights sleep and a weekend of work before the bully from down south arrives and my brain presents me with endless scenarios most of which end in me cowardly telling my boss I'm sick and can't come in for the rest of the week - lol - I am such an internal drama queen. 

sigh - next week will be heinous. 

She will barge in like a blonde bull.  Tell us how crap we are.  Make a slap-dash hurried job of it, whilst telling us we do everything wrong.  Dumping the labourious shit bits on me.  Imply I am slow and incompetent because the labourious shit bits take me so long.  Perhaps tell me she can't see the point in me being employed here again -  and then when it is rejected I shall be blamed.  Which is what happened last time. 

She talks a good game though.  Tough and authoritive.  I can see in her head she sees herself as nononsense and efficient, cutting through red tape and streamlining outdated fussy incompetence.  Flying like an eagle surrounded by turkeys.

She works hard.  Under control she would be a nice person.  Probably.  She will slave for the week she is here, in an atmosphere that is less than welcoming.

*cough cough*
oh deary me
*cough cough*
I think I am experiencing flu-like symptoms
*cough cough*

I do apologise that his has just become a place for me to whinge about my job and I am not blogging this for sympathy and poor babies.  I just need to vent and I find writing cathartic. 

Pinning thoughts to my blog with words helps stops them from running around endlessly in my head. 

It's like an endless pinball game in my head sometimes.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

and so on

... and the sloth has continued. 
It's because it's cold. 
I hibernate in the cold. 

Last night singing in the shower "papercuts make me blue, especially when inflicted by manilla folders, who knew, beige could be so cruel" for no good reason at all but that it popped into my head to the tune of 'Paris by Night' which is in the stage version of Victor Victoria which I was sort of watching because I was avoiding the football.

And the rest of this working week and next bodes ill and I didn't win the house in that RSL raffley thingy which is sad, as it seemed quite a nice house and I was imagining my inside cats being allowed outside on the 1.2 hectares of land the house was sitting on and watching them come to terms with grass, but it is not to be.
I don't normally obsess about winning lotto and houses in raffley thingies, it is just a side affect (or is it effect?) of my being unhappy at work and wishing I were retired. 

Though actually I think what I wish for is my own home and part-time work.  Some work would be nice.  Gets one out of the house.

A necessary thing for a relatively solitary person like myself.  I shall end up like that lady in Sydney who was dead for eight years on the floor of her flat and nobody noticed :)

Except possibly also eaten by cats.

(paraphrasing Bridget Jones' old and eaten by alsations)

(affect or effect - I should look that up and get it tattooed to my forearm - I never remember)
... to be continued

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

ah ... life

Life and it's many splendid thingies.  Long weekend just past (show holiday) and much sloth and spending.  (though not really long for me cause I worked Saturday).  Which is to say I spent a silly amount of money on three books and then spent the rest of my weekend reading.  It was lovely.  The latest Colin Cottrell book and another young readers fantasy one to do with Japan and samari, which I bought because the blurb reminded me a little of the Plum Rain Scroll - the dude has got to have read it.  Lovely set of books those.

... to be continued

Saturday, July 2, 2011

Love schmove

The lady I work with is possibly in love and at the very least excessively happy and filled with vim and vigour which has resulted in her talking CONSTANTLY.

I quite like self absorbed people under normal circumstances.  I have never been much good at small talk and someone happy to talk about themselves takes the burden of conversation off me, but she is also blessed with an abundance of energy, possibly something to do with the gurana, fish oil and other vitamins she is downing - but she is a hyper active person anyway and will wake at 2 in the morning and unable to get back to sleep does not go have a warm bath and a glass of milk, but instead get up and clean her house - she talked for eight hours straight yesterday even though I had the "don't interrupt me I need to concentrate" headphones on.  I am going to go deaf if I have to keep upping the volume on the walkman.

Flogging my best of Warren Zevon cd at present.  Have come to really really like the second half of the french inhaler even though I don't really like the first half.  You said you were an actress, yes I believe you are, I thought you'd be a star, so I drank up all the money, yes I drank up all the money with these phoneys in this hollywood bar, with these friends of mine in this hollywood bar"