Archive for April, 2008
Little Miss has colonised my desk, as the nights get colder. My desk lamp puts out quite a bit of heat, which she appreciates. She gets to headbutt my arm and demand snuggles.
She really is a pretty thing. Still isn’t showing her age, except occasionally on cold mornings when she flatly refuses to get up. And, of course, in appropriating my desk lamp for her personal use.
I can’t refuse her though. She’s too cute.
I can’t buy boots for love nor money. Despite the thoroughly nice and helpful girl at Overland, I just can’t find anything that a) fits my calves and b) I like. Well, problem A is really the main point. I could wear boots if I liked having screeds of leather collected at my ankles, or calf-height or ankle-height ones, but I don’t, so. Well, except under pants, but if I”m wearing pants, what’s the point of boots that no-one sees?
I bought new shoes instead. They’re nice heels, fairly chunky, which is handy with the way I walk (my ankles roll, which is not so handy for stilettos). And grown-up, made of actual leather! It’s nice being able to afford these things.
I also bought ANOTHER new bra. I keep finding ones I fit, it’s fantastic. And a new skirt, which is Officially A Smaller Size. And my pants keep falling down, which is nifty, except that it’s also a bit uncomfortable and I don’t entirely fit all the pants of a smaller-size in stores yet, and I refuse to buy new pants that are apparently my fat girl clothing size.
Work today featured Coworker accidentally calling NewGirl an ass (due to accent issues). Amusement resulted in sufficient volumes that people from other offices down the corridor wandered in asking what was going on. Unfortunately we were too busy laughing ourselves sick to explain.
Today, I have had requests to change our internal email system, the Internet, and several fairly strong desires to remove sticks from people’s bottoms.
The first person was extremely upset. We’d been unprofessional, closed jobs without allowing her the chance to respond, etc etc. What actually happened was this:
The second one was more the icing on the cake of my day. She’s been trying to email a person at another company, with no success. The error is on the remote mailserver. The four hours that RFC standards allow for delivery of delivery failure messages is apparently not good enough. She requested that we set up an IMMEDIATE!!! delivery failure. I then had to explain the concept of global standards that every mail server everywhere in the damn WORLD needs to adhere to, lest the Internets fall over.
Unfortunately, I’m not paid for proctological floristry, so the sticks have remained in situ.
I’d planned to go try/buy a particular pair of boots on my lunchbreak today (Doc Martens, as it happens). Didn’t have my size in the style I wanted, which was fine, but the store kid was just rude. Took the box back, turned his attention away before I could even ask to try another style in the other size, just so I knew my shoe size, so I could, I don’t know, order them in? Once more, the universe conspires against my desire for knee high boots.
I know I’m fat, but I’m still a customer. And one who was quite willing to spend $325 there and then, if I found what I wanted. I liked the store when I was noseying around last week, but the store person today was a young guy who clearly couldn’t WAIT to get me out so that he could continue ogling teenage girls. It bugged me so much I couldn’t calm down with a half hour march around Auckland. Ended up sitting on the floor in the loos crying out of sheer frustration. (Explained any visible effects of this away by the very HOT indian I then ate. The lengths we’ll go to to avoid having to explain ourselves…)
I went back after work, tried on another couple pairs with different staff, drew the conclusion my feet are a stupid shape, and went home without boots. But at least I removed the stick from my own ass, and ate my pride.
I am also stepping up my efforts to get fitter. Thinner is gradually happening, but fitter isn’t quite getting there with just walking. I can’t rail at the universe for not providing for me if I don’t work at it myself, after all…
We had to shut the cat doors (aka, bedroom windows) a couple of nights ago. It was pouring with rain, really horrid weather, and it was raining in the windows.
Candy asked politely for Out about 3am, so I duly opened a window, poked her through, got rained on, shut it and went back to sleep.
When we got up at 6am, the back doorway contained one very wet, very grumpy, very vocal pusskin who explained at length that she was WET and COLD and it’s RAINING and you LEFT ME OUTSIDE and ooh, biscuits.
Last night, she slept on the bed. And every time I rolled over, there was a surreptitious snugglewrigglesnuggle, followed by the reapplication of a vibrating footwarmer.
She is currently basking in the heat of my desk lamp, and bravely ignoring any suggestions that she may like to go Outside.
Tobermory is scheduled for a gastroscopy and colonoscopy on Monday. This really has not been a good fortnight, and in fact this whole month is not looking to improve.
I would like a vacation from the harsh reality of being an adult, please.
This was my morning.
Sharkie blew her front right tire as I pulled into the parking building this morning. Hooray for the AA, the tire shop about 2km from work that I dropped Sharkie at in my lunch break and picked up from after work.
This has been one expensive fortnight. Root canal, car (did I mention the indicators broke down, the garage sent us away with an improperly fixed car AGAIN, and I was really pissed about it? Well, the indicators broke down, etc), various other unexpected but necessary expenses.
I am holding tightly onto my job and worshipping my paychecks right now, as is Tobermory. Blargh life.