Archive for the ‘What. The.’ Category

Keeping Clean

October 1, 2010

My new cleaner charges bugger all per hour, but has a minimum of 4 hours she charges. My house is a renovation nightmare upstairs (as in, floor boards are up and it’s a no-go zone) so all she needs do is downstairs. There’s not 4 hours worth of work there, which I’ve been sort of ok with as long as she doesn’t charge any extra when the upstairs is in a state of completeness and needing a clean as well. Which might actually happen soon, finally, given the sudden need for a nursery around here within the next 6 or 7 months. The basic tasks seem to be taking less and less time though, and she doesn’t ever seem to think to do extra things, like the cobwebs near the ceiling, or dusting the fans, or wiping down the blinds.

I’ve written that off to thinking she was a few kangaroos short in the top paddock. Today I discovered why.

Yesterday I left her a note letting her know that I’d be leaving suggestions for extra jobs to be done each week, since the current workload was taking less than 2 hours and she is still being paid for 4 hours. So if she wouldn’t mind cleaning my (filthy, filthy) oven as well as the normal cleaning, the gloves and cleaner were waiting for her in the kitchen.

I got home last night to find a sparkly oven. I felt pretty proud. Like I’d won a battle or something. Even though the cleaner’s been doing less than 2 hours work for months and being paid for 4 every week. Who’s the silly one again?

This morning I awoke to a missed call from the cleaner, from late – after 10:30pm. I was well and truly asleep by then, having well and truly lost my ability to keep my eyes open past 8 lately. The message left sounded a little urgent – please ring as soon as possible.

I called her, quite convinced that she was about to sack me. Another cleaner bites the dust. I envisaged her having stewed over the indignity of cleaning burnt on sweet potato and cauliflower cheese for a good hour or two yesterday and deciding she’d had enough. Not so – she had lost some medication and wondered if it had fallen out of her bag at my house.

She rambled on for a while as I searched around for a paper pharmacy bag. She’d gotten quite frantic last night it seems, even calling the police and telling them someone must have climbed over her balcony and stolen her medicine. Woah, that must be some flu or whatever going on over there!

I did find the paper bag and reassured her I would drop it off on the way to work since I was driving past. If only I wasn’t such a busybody. If only I had not looked at what was in the bag before I sailed off to drop it over to her. Then? I wouldn’t know that my cleaner is on the methadone program.

Pillow Talk

September 21, 2010

The other night the boyfriend shook me awake to tell me something important.Th conversation must have gone on for about 10 minutes. Here’s a summary of how it went.

BF: We do slapperdicktomies now!

Me: Wha?? what?

BF: Slapperdicktomies!

Me: What’s a slapperdicktomy?

BF: A penis transplant, silly! We can put one wherever guys want an extra one. Or if girls want to try it!

Me: *uncontrollable laughter*

BF: What?

Me: So how did this come about?

BF: Someone left one behind! How cool is that!

Cool’s not exactly the word I would have picked. He clearly belongs with me.

Nobody Expects the Spanish Inquisition!

September 14, 2010

This little vegemite also wasn’t expecting to be given a referral to the obstetrics outpatients clinic this morning.

(If I was expecting it I at least would have covered that type of thing on my bloody expensive – and useless – private health care, under which I deliberately cut out services related to my current “condition” as a covered item because I’ll never need that!)

Unexpected does not necessarily mean unwelcome – just very, very unplanned!

Now excuse me while I go and stare, shocked look on my face, out the window for a good while longer.

Horsing Around

May 25, 2010

Last week sometime, I popped into The Local on my way home for my regular afternoon catch up on the way home from work. I was just heading off home when one of the locals said “Don’t go home yet, one of the managers is bringing in her new horse”. I was intrigued and made further enquiries, which is when I was told the manager was bringing in a horse she’d bought that afternoon, and it was currently travelling with her in her back seat. Given all this I can actually understand why the Publican laughed and said Sure when she called to say she’d just bought a horse, it was in her back seat, the pub was on the way home and could she bring it in to say hi. Clearly, he thought she was mad. As did I. I stuck around anyway – it’s not every day a staff member from The Local goes completely barmey. Then she arrived. With her new miniature horse.

That horse is full grown. As she strolled into the bar with it, the Publican’s eyes boggled out of his head. Several of the local drunks checked their beer glasses, and possibly decided that was enough for the evening. The horse was not as tall as the bar stools. Most hilarious thing I have seen at The Local all year.

Edited to add: Here’s his front view. He has a shaggy fringe so it’s a bit hard to see his face!