So life is stressful and a bit shitty at the moment. Presenting the week that was:

• There is bad shit going down with my best mate at work. She is very emotional and stressed about some personal issues, and me never knowing what to say means that I suck when it comes to being a positive, reassuring friend. Throw in some work stress, and this makes for a bad, bad combo. I think that I am learning that buying people donuts when they need cheering up isn't the fix to all of the world's problems. Even if they are topped with Lindt chocolate.
  
  
• I once again cocked up at work, and the Important People once again made phone calls about me. Turns out that I am looking more incompetent by the second, despite my best efforts. As well as my Pretty Hair technique, I have now also adopted the Colourful Underpants technique. Because while I may continually screw shit up, at least I have pretty hair and colourful underpants. I will report on their success/failure shortly.
  
  
• I am still desperately trying to reassure myself that I am not wasting my twenties by booking in some piano lessons. Whilst trying to act young and hip in my conversation with the receptionist lady at the music school, I was asked when I wanted to book my daughter in for her first lesson. Apparently, I sound mum-ish. Turns out she had confused me with the person she had spoken to previously, BUT STILL. They are pretty much booked solid for the next couple of weeks, except for a few slots which clash with The Holiday, so I guess I will follow it up when I get back.
  
  
• That's right, from MY HOLIDAY. Moving onto the things that are good, I am actually starting to get excited about having a whole week off work, where I can be young and carefree and dress like a hippie. Most of the week is fully booked with day trips and boat trips and trips to the cocktail bar, but just chilling and getting a massage is sounding like heaven. Good luck to whoever has to get the knots out my back, because it feels like a boy scout has earned a few badges back there.
  
  
• Forever the last one on the bandwagon, I have recently discovered Dexter, and it turns out that serial killers float my boat. Who knew?

Four days to go!

I have no blog mojo at the moment.

• Work is bleurgh. I screwed something up and Important People made phone calls about it, and it made me feel a bit rubbish. I combat this by looking sheepish, and making my hair pretty, so that even though I may have cocked shit up royally, at least I have pretty hair.
  
  
• I think I am going through a mid-twenties crisis at the moment. Re-evaluating friendships and wondering why I never pursue my interests. All that shit. I have also been having little confidence crises where I feel completely out of my depth, and wonder what I am doing in this meeting, and what is everyone talking about? Maybe this is part of growing up. Or signs that I really am losing my mind.
  
  
• I think I am going to get piano lessons and maybe start a band. See mid-twenties crisis comment above.
  
  
• I went to drinks with work people on Friday night, and I really have to stop going. I can't be doing this team leader biz, and then spilling beer on my team members after hours. Or doing my Cat Deeley impersonation. Or any of the many embarrassing things that I tend to do when the alcohol has hit me.
  
  
• This Friday I am attending farewell drinks (not work people, so it's ok) for the third person this month. So, you know, if everyone could please stop leaving me now, that would be tops.

Etc.

I had lunch with my mum today. In today's episode of The Sordid Lives of the Mountain Dwellers!!!1!!:

"So, the people who live across the road are always partying. Until 3am, every night. Every night! And we knew they were on drugs, because your brother went over there one day and they were just lying on the table. Can you believe they were so bold as to leave drugs all over the table? But then the other night there was a massive police raid, and ALL of the police were there, and since then it's been quiet."

My mum handed me a book called Your Health at Risk, with the sub-heading 'What doctors and the government aren't telling you.'

"Margarine!!!@!1 You wouldn't believe what's in margarine."

In the next episode: hear about the nextdoor neighbour's lover, who has gone back to her husband! And all about the snake that ate the chickens!

I had decided today that I was not going to spend much cash, having spent far too much on Friday. However, I have been consistently annoyed with my mobile phone lately (with the messages from beyond, etc.) and it was the last straw when my mum had been frantically calling me, and none of the calls had come through.

So I went to a mobile phone store. A salesman walked over and asked if he could help with anything.

I explained my situation. I specifically said the words: I need a new phone. I listed all of my requirements and he was able to give several suggestions. I then told him about my current contract situation and we went through exactly what would need to happen for me to switch to a new phone, and a new plan.

So, my thinking is that I am The Sure Thing in sales terms, right? I have basically walked into this shop with a sign on my forehead saying I AM YOUR NEXT COMMISSION.

"This phone is looking pretty good," I say.

"Quite frankly, that phone is crap," he replies.

"Oh," I say, wondering where the great school of how NOT to sell things is located.

"Yeah, how about I leave you this brochure, and you can come back when you've decided." And with that, he turned around and started chatting with the other salesperson, about general crap.

Are you kidding me? How many signals can I give that I want to buy something? And this is rare for me, because I normally give off growly 'do I LOOK like I want your help?' sort of signals. So now I DON'T have a new phone, when I really, really wanted one, and this guy has missed out on the funding for his next tub of hair gel.

I guess it must be me.

My phone delivers messages from the other world. It will beep, and it will say that I have a new voicemail message, when I am 100% sure that my phone has not actually rung. These random voicemail messages are generally wrong numbers. But not just any wrong numbers. I once listened to five minutes of a young girl crying and wailing "mummmmmmmyyyyyyyyyyyy". And this morning, a child left a message, once again crying, and saying "hello? Hello? HELLO??!?!?"

FREAKING ME THE HELL OUT.

These are obviously messages from beyond the grave. Or if someone is playing a cruel prank, how are they putting these voicemail messages on my phone without it actually ringing? OH MAN.

After this lovely start to my Day Off, I went to the doctor, to get a new prescription for the No Babies Pill. I hate paying $50 to see a doctor, only to walk out with a slip of paper, but despite my best efforts I just couldn't think of any far-fetched afflictions to give myself. So the doctor prints out the piece of paper, and I say:

"Oh, don't suppose I could have a prescription for six months instead of three?"

Before I go on, this was the first time I had seen this doctor, as my normal one (who has seen my private parts) was not available.

Doctor: No, it only comes in one or three months.
Me: Oh. No worries.
Doctor: I think it is probably because a girl DIED from being on the pill not too long ago. So it is forcing you to see your doctor on a more regular basis.
Me: [gobsmacked]
Dr. Death: The pill gives you problems with blood clots, you see.
Me: Um.
Dr. Evil: OH, hehehe, hope I haven't worried you now. Hehehe.

THANKS.

I then went for my follow-up dentist appointment and received the Best. News. Ever! I don't have to have my wisdom teeth out, at least not for a bloody long time. They took an x-ray of my head and I discovered that I don't have three wisdom teeth, I have four, and the last one is hidden up in my jaw somewhere. Yes! I am a freak! But all is well, so I dished out more cash and then danced a dance of JOY!

So that was my day complete, but then whilst on my dental hygiene buzz I decided to go to the chemist and buy some mouthwash. I left the shopping centre three hours later, with a haircut, dresses, various hair products, jelly beans, underwear, a magazine and shoes. Oh, and mouthwash. And where I am EVER going to wear red, five-inch snakeskin stilettos, I DON'T KNOW. That's right, I have shoes that were made out of a snake.

And now, I am way poor.

• In yet further proof that I am shit at being a girl, I had a few minutes to kill before going out for drinks the other night and decided to curl my eyelashes, because that's what girls do, apparently. While the contraption was clamped over my eye-hairs, I had a massive eye spasm, uncontrollably yanked my head and then looked at the eyelash curler, to discover I had RIPPED OUT a huge chunk of my eyelashes. Yes, I have a full-on bald spot now. An eyelash bald spot. WHAT.

• I am completely obsessed with gingernut biscuits. They are heavenly, and I could happily marry one right now.
  
  
• Lately, I am feeling all musical. I go through phases in my life, for example, I can tell that I am just about to go through a fitness phase, where I decide I am porky and start running every day, only to give it up within a few weeks. This is how I work. And now I am hitting the music phase, where I start playing the guitar every day and wailing like a feral cat and dreaming of discovering this incredible talent which MUST be lurking in there somewhere. So, right now my fingers hurt. From the guitar playing. But I'm sure I'll slack off soon.
  
  
• It's only three and a half weeks before we take our mini-holiday which was supposed to be Thailand but isn't! I have even dug out a swimsuit which I bought a long time ago, back when I had convinced myself that I had a chance of becoming one of those carefree beach girls (and obviously forgetting that I can cause blindness with my pasty white skin). Yet I am a little scared of leaving work and having to come back to whatever has changed over a five day absence. Which is bloody sad, really.
  
  
• Beardie blogs now. This is his therapy.
  
  
• Beardie also surprised me with Cirque du Soleil tickets for December, whoo! And we are even going VIP, where they offer a "coat check service" and "private restrooms". Instead of a communal pissing trough, or something. I asked what would happen if I used the coat check service to hand in a hoodie smelling like cheezels, and apparently that wouldn't go down well. I am unsure if I am VIP material. But I will get to see contortionists and various other freaks all up close and personal, ooh!
  

And that's me done.

Work makes me want to take up smoking. Just so I can go downstairs and have 15 minute bitch sessions. In fact, I think I am going to start going for the bitch sessions, cigarettes or not.

Performance managing people stresses me the hell out. Because I am all "hey, if I want to get the job done, I need to make this change, EASY!" and they are all "yeah I know I need to change, but I'm a DICK who WON'T so THERE." And because I can't relate to this attitude, I just want them to go away, and preferably die.

This is how I find myself at 6:30 on a Saturday morning, typing up coaching notes in preparation for Monday.

In that bullshitty "Employment Objective" part of my resume, I always used to say that I wanted a challenging job, but GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I have been cursed.

And this comes with extra bitterness, as I found out yesterday that if I had not been given this job, I would have been offered another job in a more technical (i.e. antisocial) area, where I got to play with servers and no longer talk to customers and possibly blog/watch Youtube ALL DAY. However, this would have been at a bit of a paycut, BUT STILL.

Also! In the ongoing shitness of this past week, I have been massively ill. But apparently not sensible enough to stay home from work. It was the kind of ill where I couldn't actually hold down any food, and walking around in the office when I am in desperate need of spewing, and also coughing/spluttering/etc., with a wide-eyed, twitchy buzz from the pseudoephedrine, obviously makes me the hottest girl in all the land.

To go back to That Thing from the last post, with That Guy at the drinks, all is well as the It Never Happened approach has been taken. This is fortunate, as I suspect that I would have scrote-punched anyone who came anywhere near me this week.

But now it is the weekend, so I can focus on chilling out, and possibly letting it all pass in a hazy, snotty blur.

HOORAH!