I'm Wanted

Well, after seeing a rather ugly side to myself, previously entitled 'Impatience', I handed in my notice - or tried to. They went away, cleaned the shit out of their pants, and came back with a monstrous offer for me to stay here.

After a sleepless, and drugless (!!) night, I realised that all I really wanted was for my current employer to appreciate me, and value me. In a fiscal capacity, obviously. So I've got what I wanted.

BUT I just phoned Potential New Boss (PNB) and she's going to come back to me with another offer. Just to confuse things. But I'm pretty sure that I'm happy now, and will gently tell her where to go.

So, oh pleasant and patient reader, hopefully this ends the seemingly never-ending job saga. I'm sorry to have bored you senseless, and I promise to only blog things of interest in the future.

Impatience

So, the job saga continues. I have given her my references (courtesy of the lovely people at the Guardian Newspaper) and I fully expected to find out today. BUT NO. I've just heard that my hopeful new boss is out of the office today so I'm not going to find out about my potential new job until tomorrow - AT LEAST.

I am so sick of waiting. It's been a week now, since my final interview, and she's had my reference all weekend. RUBBISH.

But some good news came from this weekend - I'm getting a brand new car!! yay!!!

And the enthusiasm stops there.

On another annoying note, the girls at work are going to get their blood taken today - they prefer to call it 'giving' blood. I have been spared from this ordeal thanks to an extended period of time living in the UK - home of CJD and all things Mad and Cow. So, I'll spend the rest of the morning telling the girls to shut the fuck up about their damned generosity and won't allow them to forget the inherent stupidity in giving away some of your body's vital fluids.

A Whole World of Dumb

I had an interesting argument with a colleague this morning:

We were talking about how our boss is so stressed out all the time. I said, yep, he's gonna have a heart attack one day for sure. And she said, "Or he'll get Cancer."

Um, I'm sorry? What?

"He'll get Cancer. Stress causes Cancer."

I didn't quite know where to start with this one. So i began with, 'No. No it doesn't. Stress may be able to trigger and aggravate some forms of Cancer, but it doesn't 'create' Cancer.'

And she disagreed. In fact, she is still disagreeing with me. I was about to turn blue in the face, but managed to squeeze out 'let's just agree to disagree'.

My god - I never knew that such dumbness was possible in a person of 28 years old. That's right - she's not only more senior than me, but she's also older than me. What a KNOB.

And I can now add 'Incredibly Dumb Colleague' to my list of why I can't wait to leave this place.

But I won't let it stress me out... I might get Cancer!! urgh... the stupidity...

Sweat

Stupid people with jumpers on. Hate them. Are they so damned skinny that they don't sweat? When it's 30 degrees at 8am in the morning, with 80% humidity, there is no way in hell that a person would not sweat.

Next time I see one of these stupid jumpered people, I'll ask them what the fuck they think they're playing at. Taunting us normal people with their freakish ability to not feel the heat.

So, in this unbearable heat, I've discovered that MY ENTIRE BODY sweats. There are parts of me that are sweating that I didn't even know had pores. And the awful thing is, I'm not going to stop sweating until around March.

I'd give just about anything to be in cold weather at the moment. Would anyone care to swap with me?

I have an itchy finger...

Luckily, this is just the kind of ailment I need right now, in order to take my mind off the interview I have in 30 mins.

Now don't get me wrong, I am totally prepared for said interview - I have my presentation printed out 3 times, my notes printed out, and I have emailed the preso to my hotmail account and have it on disk. What could possibly go wrong?

I'll tell you what could go wrong, oh naive reader - my itchy finger could get progressively itchier, to the extent that NOT itching it is completely impossible, and I itch it so much that my finger swells and goes bright red and eventually EXPLODES all over my presentation and all over my hopefully-future boss.

Am I nervous? Surprisingly not. If I am doomed to a fate of being called 'Exploding Finger Girl', then so be it. SO BE IT.

Working on a SATURDAY

Thta's right - I'm here on the weekend, working on a presentation for my interview on Monday. I’ll present to you a parallel presentation…

Slide 1 is called ‘Overall Objectives’: My objectives for today are to get this damned thing finished by 11:45, so that I can get to the bus stop by 12:00, and then to chermside by 12:45 at the latest, in order to get on the treadmill for at least 30 mins, and then to yoga at 13:30. (And I’ve just realized that this is totally not gonna happen – fuck. It’s already 10:15 and I have no idea what I’m doing. Maybe I should change my objectives to; get out of here by nightfall.

Slide 2 is called ‘My Position’: me me me me me it’s all about me you see. My position at the moment is slightly more relaxed than slide 1 - thanks to my iPod and Mylo’s Destroy Rock n Roll. However, things were touch and go for a minute there - One of the strange people who I work with, that is now labeled as strange to an impossibly large extent for being in work on Saturday for something work related, went downstairs, not thinking that the alarm down there hadn’t been disarmed. (good one) so Mylo was interrupted by the alarm, and I had to RUN downstairs to disarm the fucking thing. Can I stress the word RUN…? That’s right – I had to break into a sprint – this goes against all my beliefs and principles – normally I don’t run unless I’m being chased, or if there’s a damn good prize at the end of said run. Neither of these factors were present in the alarm scenario, and I’m now feeling used – violated – and ultimately, damaged.

Slide 3 is the ‘Action Plan’: Jesus Christ it’s hot in here – the air conditioning doesn’t work on the weekends. What a pile of shit. My plan of action right now is to go down to the water cooler, fill up my bottle, and come back upstairs, all without breaking a sweat. Lets see how it goes… MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. Oh … no no no wait a second… what’s that… DAMN. A bead of sweat has just formed on my upper lip. Mission failed. Damned air conditioning. Oh oh oh and now I’m totally distracted by “Doctor Pressure” on my iPod – love this song. Oh yeah – I’m now bobbing around on my chair like a loon. La la la la la I like this song cos he says mother fucker… hehehehehe… ah and now the hand movements have started – imagine, if you will, a double handed wave, moving from side to side in time with the music, and accompanied with a subtle movement of the head and shoulders. Lalalala lalalala and now I’m typing in time to the music ….. harder than it sounds, but muchos fun. Meh – songs ended now. Back to the action plan.

Slide 4 doesn’t really exist, but for the purposes of this parallel presentation, it is called ‘The Conclusion’: Oh my god – I’m actually looking forward to doing this presentation! Secretly I LOVE powerpoint and I LOVE presenting, because everyone has to listen to me, and they can’t interrupt. Brilliant. Ok – it’s finished now. All done. Gonna go get to the gym – it’s 12:07 so I might be just in time to do some treadmill, then yoga. Sweet. Hey! I might even see you there.

Back to School

If I ever had any doubts about leaving this place they called 'work', those doubts are gone. I came in this morning to be told by my General Manager that last night I left a dirty plate on my desk.

(You see, yesterday lunchtime I had a toasted sandwich. I didn't have time to remove the plate and take it back to the kitchen, so I left it there, unwittingly.)

GM felt that it was SO fucking important, and such an act of god knows what the fuck he thinks it is in his tiny little brain, that it was the first thing he said to me this morning. He pointed at the crust on the plate with disgust, and then looked at me like I was a cretin.

It's made me realise that this hell hole is actually run like a school. The GM is an ex-copper who clearly shouldn't be working in any position that has to do with HR, and I can't wait to get out of here. Oh fuck please let me get out of here...

Mondayitis

I'm suffering badly - demotivated, foul mood, slightly hungry, aggravated. Would someone please help me?

Looks like this whole recruitment process is gonna be dragged out til god knows when, and my current job is getting progressively worse. I'm bringing in the money, getting pats on the back, but it aint enough. I need more. But what?

Maybe all I need is for Monday to fuck off, and Tuesday to arrive. Yes - that's it. That'll do it.

Ah Tuesday, my long lost pal, where are you?

Fuck off Monday.

Spanner

I suppose that it was asking far too much of the cosmos to let me make a decision, and allow me to then travel on a complication-free course through to the manifestation of said decision.

Shall I explain in normal speak? ok...

I decided to take this new job right? And I was all like, woo hoo about it. Then yesterday afternoon I received a call that potentially means a big fat new client and lots of revenue for my current company, as well as a shit load of kudos for me. If I handed in my notice in about a week's time, as I was originally planning to do if the final interview goes well, then I'd be moved off the account anyway I imagine, and that'd suck, cos it's my work that's brought it in.

So - pretty sucky. BUT on a positive note, my Diet Coke addiction is coming along nicely. I've had two cans per day for the last week. And it's having a previously unpredicted side effect: Because I have more energy during the day due to the increased caffeine intake, I'm tiring myself out and last night, for the first time in MONTHS, I went to sleep without taking a valium!!

I feel so proud of myself. I slept so deep as well, and had some really fucked up dream about Rottweilers. I had two of them, and I kept sending them on dares to go and steal people's food in this restaurant, and then they started attacking people, and I was just laughing at them. Hmmm, maybe the valium has been suppressing my true nature? Maybe I should invest in a Rottweiler, and start using my newly found Diet Coke induced energy to provoke said animal into attacking random people?

I'll have a think about that.

Feeling Younger than Ever

Yesterday I went to the Dentists, and a Hygienist with very large, white teeth told me that I was a 'naughty girl' for not having been for two years. Before I had the chance to say, 'You call me a naughty girl again and I'll punch your shiny teeth into the back of your head', he'd shoved the sucky thing into my gob, and was attacking me with the scraper.

The pain was ferocious. There was blood, there were tears, and there was Playschool on the TV, acting as a distraction for those unlucky enough to be hygienised. As I desperately tried to wriggle out of the clutches of this toothy demon, but was distracted by Big Ted playing with a space ship, I realised what was happening:

I wasn't at the Dentists - I had been transported to my childhood. An act of regression so worrying, and so fierce, that I was paralysed by the shock of it. All I could do was keep watching Big Ted, Jemima and the gang, while the man with the scraper told me how bad I'd been, and how I had to floss every night before bed. I've just turned 25, and here I was being told off for being a bad girl.

At the end of the gruelling ordeal, he told me that I'd have to come back every 6 months for this regressive dental therapy (he calls it cleaning), and that if I didn't, my teeth may fall out by the age of 50. I told him that I don't expect to be alive, let alone have any teeth, by that age, so not coming back at all should be just about fine with me.

After receiving a disapproving look, and a 'tut tut', I left... with a sticker of a very large tooth that had apparently fallen out of someone's mouth and had mutated to form a smile and two eyes. I thought that I probably should have pointed out the irony of this image to the Hygienist, but I didn't want to risk having a letter sent home to my parents.

I've decided that if brushing and using mouthwash isn't effective enough, that's not my problem - it's the problem of the Dental Association, who should feel free to contact me with an offer of compensation for my ordeal.

Should I stay or should I go?

Today I had an interview - ooh naughty. It was all very exciting, lying to people about where I went to lunch and what I was doing and who I was with. I was tempted to concoct a big fat story, something along the lines of, "Well, I was walking along, minding my own business, and there was this dinosaur and it was handing out free smoothies! So I took one, and was transported to the faraway land of Oz. Shortly after my arrival, I encountered a scarecrow who didn't have a brain..." but that may have been a copyright infringement.

So in an attempt to not mention the words Dinosaur or Oz, I made a lame half arsed excuse about having lunch with someone from the media, and that i didn't eat anything because I liked nothing on the menu, which is why I had to buy a sandwich on my return. Anyone who knows me, knows that I ALWAYS find something on the menu to eat, especially if it's a laminated menu. So this story hasn't washed with the majority of my office.

However, this doesn't really matter, because I think tomorrow everything will be out in the open. That's right, I think I'm going to accept this job.

I feel like I'm turning into a knob in my current position, and that I need a change, something that challenges me, and motivates me to get up in the mornings - something other than the lure of the Internet at my desk.

So, tomorrow will be telling, I'm sure. I might change my mind overnight - or I might not. Is the suspense KILLING YOU??!! Well it's killing me - I may have to resort to a temazepam for this one... well, it's better than gin isn't it?? mmmm... gin....

Festival of Me

It's amazing when this time of year comes round again. The planet has proven to be the 'little planet that could', and has made another orbit around the sun. Venus is in Aquarius, according to my horoscope, and I am now a quarter of a century old. That's right fans, today is the day of my birth.

Equally as exciting - today is also my first day back at work after a slightly extended Xmas holiday. I was having problems this morning, but I turned my brain off and on again, and it's working fine now.

Now that I'm back into my daily routine, (how I love thee, routine of mine...), I've decided that my life is lacking in some things - these things need to be addressed immediately:

1. I have a severe lack of caffeine in my body. I feel that a dependence on Diet Coke needs to be assumed in order to get my levels of intoxicating substances back to a 'normal' level.
2. Once the levels of caffeine are back to normal, I need to make use of the enlivening qualities of said drug, and aim to stay awake longer in the evenings.
3. Whilst staying awake longer in the evenings may affect my ability to get up in the mornings, I feel that it's wholly more important to begin watching the Fox Telenovelas, as well as intellectual TV programs such as Entourage and Girls of the Playboy Mansion.

As you can see, turning 25 has really brought my priorities into perspective, and hopefully I should now be on track to becoming the world's best stay-at-home-diet-coke-addicted-American-TV-junkie.

The perils of thought...

It sounds like a pretentious title for any post, but in this case it actually has meaning. It has relevance.

Over the years, I've developed a healthy addiction to prescription drugs. Yes yes, I know most of you are probably aware of this, but I am going to attempt to explain why I crave valium and temazepam at the end of an evening:

I can't cope with thinking.

It hurts.

Par example; I was recently watching an episode of Sex and the City, with the un-lovely Sarah Jessica Parker sporting a curly bob. I thought about how her curls aren't dissimilar to mine, and therefore could I sport such a haircut too? I texted my Singapore friend, she told me that I shouldn't. I texted my Sydney friend, she told me that I should. Once again I was doomed to make the decision on my own. However, instead of sitting back and letting the thought drift off into the deep darkness of my mind, I brought it forward; I sat and thought, and thought some more. An hour had passed, and due to my 'hair issue' I'd missed the rest of Sex and the City, and half of Grand Designs.

Imagine, if you will, the perils of thoughts that actually have a bearing on my immediate life! The potential dangers of an early evening internal question such as "Should I stay working for my current company or move elsewhere?" or even a "Should I go to the gym tomorrow, or wash my hair instead?". Such a thought would keep me awake until at least 2am.

In conclusion, I'd like to offer the following question: Are prescription drugs a dangerously addictive substance, or are they merely a side-rail keeping a person on the pathway of sanity?

I'd go for the latter, and offer myself, and my remaining sanity, as evidence.

New Year's Resolutions

So, again I pretend that I'm actually going to keep these damned resolutions, and get to the end of the year and congratulate myself on a job well done. Of course, we all know that won't happen. But hey, what else do I have to occupy my thoughts?? Now that the Italian influence has left my life (I came home to Brisbane), and I can eat freely (I have stopped vomiting), I feel that I am in control of my destiny.

What a crock of shit. Ha. Anyway...

Resolution 1) Be more positive, and nicer to people.
This one relates to not trying to run people over on pedestrian crossings, and not dreaming up ways to destroy Amnesty International and their infernal attempts at increasing the world's population.

Resolution 2) Go to the gym.
This one WILL work - my personal trainer says so, and I'm paying her to say that so if she's wrong, I'll be sueing her tight little arse.

Resolution 3) Stop talking about being a writer, and get on with actually doing it.
Ooooh I'm achieving this one already! But no - I will be attempting to sign up on a course. At some kind of evening class institution - very unlike me, but that's the point.

And that's it. Of course I'll keep you updated! I know that you're all sat on the edge of your swivvel chairs, literally chomping at the bit to find out what I'll do next!! My life is just so incredibly gripping - I don't know if I can cope without some kind of relaxant...

Resolution 4) Stop stealing valium off my mum.