Fruity

I bought some snacks the other day. The Boyfriend, on looking at the box, asked me what children I had bought them for. I thought they looked like delicious fruity goodness, all shiny and plastic like and perfect for work.

Does this opened example look like the picture on the box? NO! It looks nothing like it! This is a fruity relative of the shit cake from last week – Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the Shit Poles!*

* Should anyone reading have shit that looks like the above, please see your doctor.

Short Week, Long Face

It might have been a short week this week after the public holiday on Monday, but it seems to have been the longest short week in the whole world.

My bank are a bunch of arses. The paperwork for my new mortgage has so far been lost twice and once drawn up with the wrong surname on it. I still haven’t signed it and I am supposed to, by court order, give my ex a rather large cheque by COB tomorrow. I somehow doubt that is going to happen on time. I finally got an apologetic email from my mortgage broker after I emailed him this morning and suggested that when the paperwork was ready perhaps he could deliver it to me IN JAIL, where I will be languishing, having been thrown in the clink. I still do not have a contract to sign, however.

The Boyfriend got the shits and quit his job yesterday. Idiot. Personally I think a better plan may have been to get a new job first, then tell them how they are a bunch of *insert appropriate word here*s.

Yesterday I got confirmation that while I will still have a job and the same salary in the restructure, my job title changes to something about 5 levels down. Oh, and I’ll be responsible for more than before. The new job title in no way reflects what I will really be doing and that shits me immensely.

A friend’s girlfriend who had a bad asthma attack and failed to get CPR in time during the recent dust storms has just had her life support turned off. Her 13 year old child thinks that because she has not died yet she will recover. The doctors tell us she is brain dead.

I made The Boyfriend’s parents very teary last night when they realised that me getting my house back might mean we spend less time with them. I feel like a thief who is taking away their baby (their grown up fully adult baby but whatever).

I feel torn about having made The Ex leave my house – I have been financially supporting him for about 3 years while he plays a stupid online game that rhymes with Schmorld of Schmarcraft for about 15 hours a day. It is finally time to pull the plug, move him out of my house, stop paying his bills, and give him a big cheque in exchange for the deed to the house. It’s well overdue but it feels sad anyway.

One of the girls in the office who I was commiserating with earlier about how much this week sucks just came into my office and said “As if that’s not enough I now have the Wiggles song Wake Up Jeff in my head!” I have cheered myself up by telling her I have the cure. She is very silly for agreeing. I got her to sing the chorus of Rah Rah Rasputin. Well, at least she doesn’t have The Wiggles on the brain any more. She is stalking around the office telling all that she is going to kill me, but at least I’m smiling now.

What do you Do if you See a Space Man?

You park in it, man!

This morning I woke to find the aliens had landed. Why else would the sky be a burning orange. Closer inspection, along with the gritty taste of dust in my mouth, revealed it was in fact not aliens landing, but a giant dust storm that blanketed the entire city in red dust.

Here’s what I saw through the window – photo taken from bed with the mobile phone.

It was enough to make me actually get up and take a closer look.

Yikes. I ventured outside to look for the spaceship. There was none to be seen. Couldn’t see much but red dust shining eerily.

There was no sitting down while waiting for the train this morning. Although I could see bottom prints from those who had.

Well, I suppose seeing butt prints on the way to work is probably a sign of the day to come. It may just suck ass.

Awkward Conversations 101

I spent the day today with The Boyfriend’s mum and dad because I was home sick from work, and they just look after me the right amount – offer cups of tea and conversation but leave me alone when I go to lie down.I love spending time with them, and in exchange I cooked them a corned beef to have on their sandwiches for lunch with pickles and cheese. Yum.

I was having a conversation with The Boyfriend’s dad, about Beethoven, and how difficult it must have been to hear the music in his head but not be able to actually experience it the way others did after he went deaf in his late 20s.

We then moved on to how many of the old composers were total nut jobs. I supplied the information that many composers had untreated syphilis, and they were all nutjobs because one of the later complications is going quite mad.

The Boyfriend’s dad said to me ” You know, apparently lots of women are carriers of that”.*

What made me reply with a cheery “I’m not, no need to worry about your son on that one, he won’t catch anything from me!”? I then tried to recover with “No, really, I’ve been tested!”

It was only when he started umming and ahhing that I realised that might have been an oversharing moment and decided not to carry on with the fact that it surely is HPV or something like that rather than syphilis that is rife in the community, and that I thought it was men who are unknowing carriers. I think I’d better cook them something else to distract them.

Add This to my List

Apparently it’s not normal to have a list of lists. What’s wrong with that, I say? I have lots of lists – a master list surely is a smart thing to keep all those lists in order. When I recently announced to my family that I have a master list, to keep track of my lists, and that each list is hyperlinked from the master list? Yeah, they all went very quiet. Then they all slowly shook their heads. (Well, I need a few lists – they keep me calm. Yes, I do realise I have a touch of OCD. But who doesn’t need a list for weekend holidays (two holiday houses, so that’s 2 different lists already), a list for overseas trips, a list of what needs renovating in my house (a looooong list, that one), a list of things I need to do, a list of what is for dinner that week each night, a grocery list, a work to-do list – you get the general idea.)

I bet none of them have cheese that looks as good as mine does though.

I hope it’s going to feed me well – the big R is going on at work (*shudder* – redundancies). I have to reapply for my job. Yep, the one I got bullied talked into applying for earlier this year.

Hypotheticals

Hypothetically speaking, of course, would it be the wrong thing to do if one was lying in bed just before the alarm went off, and did a ginormous fart loud enough to wake the 2 surrounding blocks, then pretended to be asleep? Even if one’s Boyfriend was hypothetically lying next to you in said bed, and is well known for his insomnia so has probably been awake for hours? Hypothetically, he didn’t mention it afterward so maybe he was hypothetically asleep anyway. And I may never eat that much cauliflower in one sitting ever again. Hypothetically, of course.

Also hypothetically, if I walked around all day yesterday with my fly open, surely someone could have thought to mention it to me.

Of course you know none of the above happened because girls don’t fart, and I would never wander around the office half clothed (except for the time the spider was down my shirt and I ripped my shirt off in the middle of the office, all while squealing like a banshee in case anyone hadn’t already been looking. That’s another story).

Toilets and Teeth

Work has been keeping me pretty busy lately. At least I am finally starting to feel like I can do the job. You know I can always still make time for popping in to The Local. Last night I put my footy tips in on the way home. Someone’s been drinking in the toilet again. Weird. Who does that? Then again, I suppose, who takes photos of toilets with drinks left on them with their bad mobile phone camera.

I suppose it’s no worse than the photo I took on the mobile phone last weekend at The Local. One of the local boys was worried someone would take his beer. So he put his false teeth in his glass. Mmmm, tasty.

Lick This!

Yesterday, I smelt something odd on my hand. I sniffed it and couldn’t identify what it was. It smelt sort of citrus like, but in a medicinal way. I licked the back of my hand, and still couldn’t identify what it was, so I washed my hands. Then I got a drink of water, because whatever it was it tasted feral.

Today I was dropping some papers off to the big boss and onthe way, used some of the anti bacterial hand gel that’s been put up throughout the building since the great Swine Flu Fever hit. It suddenly occurred to me – aHA – that’s what had been on my hand yesterday!

And then it suddenly occurred to me – who licks their hand when there’s something unidentified on it? Only me.

Undies are Evil

On the weekend, I went to a wedding. Since it’s important for all women to be uncomfortable at these events, I wore a dress and strappy high heels.

A few days before the wedding I tried on the dress I planned to wear and asked The Boyfriend if it looked ok. He looked me over and said “You know what comes to mind when I see you in that dress?” I waited eagerly for his next statement. “A schoolma’am”.

So I wore a different dress. And, because I wasn’t a fan of the belly bulge that was a little too obvious under that dress, I bought a pair of old lady fat-holder-inner undergarments to wear underneath. I was talking to a girlfriend before I left, and told her I wasn’t sure how much fat they could be holding in, and perhaps I bought a size too big, because they felt too comfortable. We even joked about perhaps I had no fat to hold in. Oh I should never have mocked the fat-holder-inner-undergarments.

The wedding started at 1:30. By 1:22, I was texting the same friend with “Wedding has not yet started and I am already starting to rethink the fat holder inner undies and wondering if I can take them off in the loo”. Yeah, those things are evil, man.

Added Bonus!

After a mad day at work, today at around 3pm I realised why I felt so hungry – I hadn’t stopped for lunch. With the madness yet to subside, I decided to go to the bottom drawer of my cupboard, which holds my emergency supplies, and go the quick 2 minute noodle option.

Upon grabbing the packet, it felt slightly bulgier than usual, and closer inspection revealed a pleasant surprise – bonus vegetable packet inside.  When I opened the packet, here was my surprise.

Yeah, 5 peas and some tiny red things of dubious vegetable origin. Wow. How overwhelmingly generous. Since I don’t like peas and the red things looked like pieces of plastic, I tipped the veggies out and went with the standard. My only other surprise was that instead of the radiation look, my phone seems to have decided on a green tinge today. Seems somewhat appropriate.