Archive for the ‘Just Not Right’ Category

Too Much Caffeine is Bad For You

October 15, 2010

Yesterday I splurged and got myself a weak flat white. Apparently the universe was trying to tell me to cut out the caffeine, because it did not end well.

I sat at my desk, and put the take away coffee up to my mouth. The lid was not on the cup properly. I poured the entire cup of coffee all down my once crisp white shirt.

I raced to the bathroom, took the shirt off and rinsed it under the tap to get as much coffee out as I could. Then I realised we don’t have hand dryers in the bathrooms, they are stocked with paper towels. Fantastic, now I was in a wet, see through white shirt.

I ended up running down to the gym change rooms (yes, work has a gym. no, I have never used it.) and drying my shirt with a hair-dryer. I wandered around for the rest of the day being followed by the faint aroma of coffee.



February 26, 2010

I’ve been feeling inspired lately to declutter. Clear out the rooms full of mess, finish that renovation, and start using my whole house rather than live in the downstairs because I am renovating upstairs. People smirk at that comment, probably because I have been renovating upstairs for about 10 years now.

Perhaps I need to bite the bullet and just START already. Otherwise I think the decluttering buzz that is going around in my head will get louder and louder. At least, that is what I am sure is to blame for the fact that after lunch at work today I washed up my plate and cutlery and microwave container, dried them up and went to take them back to my office. However all that was on the bench was some paper towels. As I had dried the dishes? I’d chucked them all straight in the bin, and carefully stacked the paper towels on the bench. Excellent work.

In other news, I am sorry to say that I am very cranky with The Boyfriend today. He feels I am being unreasonable – that I can’t be cross for what he did in my dream last night. Hmph, whatever. If he would stop acting that way in my dream – fancy bringing an old friend’s cousin over and giving her special cuddles in the bed that I am also sleeping in – then I wouldn’t be cross. Or alternatively, I might lay off the smoked cheese just before bed.

Take Note!

February 17, 2010

I find the site Passive Aggressive Notes rather amusing. Possibly because I could see myself writing the odd one. Like the time I left a note on the fridge at work saying “To the thief that stole my yoghurt, hope you choke on it and die”, only to later have to leave another one next to it saying “Erm, about that? Yep, never mind, I found it in the freezer, right where I left it while trying to make frozen yoghurt”. Hey, it made me laugh at least!

The last few weeks I’ve had 2 or 3 sets of headphones pinched from my spare desk (I have an office at the building I spend most time at, and a cell cubicle at head office, where I have to go around once a week). Today I decided it was time for another passive aggressive note.

PS My ears are clean, really. Oh, and they are not pus filled.

When Animals Attack

February 16, 2010

While on the train this morning, a lady grabbed her folder full of work papers she’d been browsing through, and hit me over the head with it. I thanked her.

There was a good reason, and it started when I noticed a bee buzzing around the window near the person behind me. I am not a huge fan of being stung by bees, so I had been keeping an eye on the bee’s path. I idly wondered if I should wake the lady behind me to let her know there was a bee a centimetre away from her nose. I wish I had – maybe she would have scared it away. As it happens, karma got me back for not warning her by sending the bee over to me.

I was sitting in one of the rather awkward seats at the end of the carriage where 3 people are facing each other, knees knocking all the way. The bee started to dive bomb the 6 of us, and was getting difficult to avoid since we were already squashed in like bugs. At this point, I may have gotten a little shrieky.

The carriage full of weary commuters perked up and started to look interestedly over at the commotion. The tiny, demure looking lady opposite me shouted, “AAAAHHHH, it’s in your HAIR!” and whacked the bee, which was sitting on my head, with her folder. The bee disappeared from view and the interest in the carriage subsided. My pulse still racing, I grinned at the other folks in the facing chairs and said “Well, I’m awake now!”

It was too late, the moment was gone, and the unspoken rule of not talking to or making eye contact with anyone else on the train had come back into effect without me noticing, and my cohorts all shifted uncomfortably and pretended not to have heard me. As we pulled into my stop, the bee, by now really angry, climbed back up from the brink of death and started buzzing around their faces. I neatly sidestepped the action, and farewelled them with a cheery, “Enjoy the rest of your trip, ladies, I’m getting off this train!”

As I glanced inside the window on my way towards the station exit, all I could see were handbags and folders waving frantically through the air. I chuckled to myself, happy with my lucky escape, and headed off to work.


November 5, 2009

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!*

shit poles

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

Short Week, Long Face

October 8, 2009

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?

September 23, 2009

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

September 17, 2009

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

September 9, 2009

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.

cheesy good

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.


July 31, 2009

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).