Hello there friend. I know I have not written for ages. It's been way too long. Sorry. I guess it's because I haven't experienced anything worthy of writing about. I seem to have acquired an annoying job that requires me to work permanent weekends, Monday and Tuesday. It sucks - big time. It has taken a major toll on my now non existent love life. Oh! and not to mention my nose diving social life too. Just a few weeks ago, I missed one of my best friend's Birthday celebrations, and I was pissed!
I work in and inbound call centre for a major telecommunications company. I start at 0800 hours and conclude my shift ten hours later at 1800 hours. The party was due to kick off on Saturday evening at 8pm, at Cookie in the city and end up where ever Melbourne's streets lead us. Part way through my shift, I asked my Team Leader if I could have the following day off or swap it for another day. His answer was short and blunt - No. I thought fine, I'll be the designated driver. I'll drive one of the other girl's cars, as I have a two seater ute and can only have one passenger. It's fucking sexy to look at and a dream to drive, but alas, it's not so good for car pooling.
I got to Digimon's pad where as usual, she was having a wardrobe crisis. Digimon had just returned from a short jaunt in Europe and whilst she was in Amsterdam, she bought a sexy green dress. It was a gorgeous jade green number that was short, but not too short and really showed off her awesome rack. She kept claiming that the dress was too short and made her look like a slut. It did not. She looked lovely and classy as usual. I picked out a handbag and a chunky black necklace to team with the sexy green dress whilst we waited for our other girlfriend, Malta to arrive.
Digimon finally believed me when Malta arrived and told her how hot she looked. She downed what was left of her glass of vino and we hit the road. I really don't like driving other people's cars. It's weird. You get use to your own car. You know as soon as you get in that your seat is in the correct position. The mirrors are all pointing in the right direction. You know where the clutch bites and you know where all of the gears are. It took me ages to get the seat and mirrors right. Then it took me another few moments to find reverse. Who the heck makes you lift up part of the gear knob to get into a gear? Fucking Euro Trash! Give me a Holden any day!
Any who, after a quick tutorial from Digimon on how to drive her car we were over the bridge and in the city in no time. Great, hook turns ahoy! Luckily for us, we took Spencer and Lonsdale Streets which don't require the services of you navigating and orchestrating a right hand turn from the left lane. I'd like to know who invented those fuckers, they are so annoying! We entered a multi storey car park, ditched the car and headed to Cookie.
It was pretty busy and it was only 2000 hours. We made it to the bar for a drink and then found the Birthday Girl. She was thrilled to see us, just as we were thrilled to share her Birthday with her. I had set my departure time for 2230 hours, as that would allow plenty of time for me to get back to the car, back over the bridge, car swap at Digimon's place and be tucked up in bed by 2300 hours. Perfect! We managed to find a square metre or so of free space near the bar were we propped for the duration. I drank my pint and mingled with the other party goers and before I knew it it was almost time for me to turn into a pumpkin! I found the Birthday Girl and said my goodbyes. By this stage Digimon and Malta were over it and wanted to catch a lift home with me, rather than fight for a cab a few hours later.
I safely and soberly drove the girls back to the West Side, swapped cars and headed for home. It was now 2345 hours, I got to my room, stripped off, set the alarm and drifted off to the Land of Nod. Before I knew it, it was 0645 hours and the alarm was yelling at me to get out of bed. I dragged my tired ass out of my nice warm bed, threw on what ever clothes I picked up off the floor and headed off to work for a 0800 hours start.
Work on this particular Sunday was dead. Calls were few and far between. There was seriously around ten minutes between calls. The Team Leader came around and asked if anybody wanted to go home. Was he fucking serious? I had asked him less than twenty-four hours earlier if I could have the day off, and his answer to me was no. I politely replied to him with the same answer. If I had known he was going to send people home early, I would have been naughty and stayed out all night drinking with my friends and called in sick. But because I'm a 'good girl' with a strong work ethic, I made the choice to leave early and trudge into work the next day.
Friends, life is too short. Work to live, don't live to work!
I work in and inbound call centre for a major telecommunications company. I start at 0800 hours and conclude my shift ten hours later at 1800 hours. The party was due to kick off on Saturday evening at 8pm, at Cookie in the city and end up where ever Melbourne's streets lead us. Part way through my shift, I asked my Team Leader if I could have the following day off or swap it for another day. His answer was short and blunt - No. I thought fine, I'll be the designated driver. I'll drive one of the other girl's cars, as I have a two seater ute and can only have one passenger. It's fucking sexy to look at and a dream to drive, but alas, it's not so good for car pooling.
I got to Digimon's pad where as usual, she was having a wardrobe crisis. Digimon had just returned from a short jaunt in Europe and whilst she was in Amsterdam, she bought a sexy green dress. It was a gorgeous jade green number that was short, but not too short and really showed off her awesome rack. She kept claiming that the dress was too short and made her look like a slut. It did not. She looked lovely and classy as usual. I picked out a handbag and a chunky black necklace to team with the sexy green dress whilst we waited for our other girlfriend, Malta to arrive.
Digimon finally believed me when Malta arrived and told her how hot she looked. She downed what was left of her glass of vino and we hit the road. I really don't like driving other people's cars. It's weird. You get use to your own car. You know as soon as you get in that your seat is in the correct position. The mirrors are all pointing in the right direction. You know where the clutch bites and you know where all of the gears are. It took me ages to get the seat and mirrors right. Then it took me another few moments to find reverse. Who the heck makes you lift up part of the gear knob to get into a gear? Fucking Euro Trash! Give me a Holden any day!
Any who, after a quick tutorial from Digimon on how to drive her car we were over the bridge and in the city in no time. Great, hook turns ahoy! Luckily for us, we took Spencer and Lonsdale Streets which don't require the services of you navigating and orchestrating a right hand turn from the left lane. I'd like to know who invented those fuckers, they are so annoying! We entered a multi storey car park, ditched the car and headed to Cookie.
It was pretty busy and it was only 2000 hours. We made it to the bar for a drink and then found the Birthday Girl. She was thrilled to see us, just as we were thrilled to share her Birthday with her. I had set my departure time for 2230 hours, as that would allow plenty of time for me to get back to the car, back over the bridge, car swap at Digimon's place and be tucked up in bed by 2300 hours. Perfect! We managed to find a square metre or so of free space near the bar were we propped for the duration. I drank my pint and mingled with the other party goers and before I knew it it was almost time for me to turn into a pumpkin! I found the Birthday Girl and said my goodbyes. By this stage Digimon and Malta were over it and wanted to catch a lift home with me, rather than fight for a cab a few hours later.
I safely and soberly drove the girls back to the West Side, swapped cars and headed for home. It was now 2345 hours, I got to my room, stripped off, set the alarm and drifted off to the Land of Nod. Before I knew it, it was 0645 hours and the alarm was yelling at me to get out of bed. I dragged my tired ass out of my nice warm bed, threw on what ever clothes I picked up off the floor and headed off to work for a 0800 hours start.
Work on this particular Sunday was dead. Calls were few and far between. There was seriously around ten minutes between calls. The Team Leader came around and asked if anybody wanted to go home. Was he fucking serious? I had asked him less than twenty-four hours earlier if I could have the day off, and his answer to me was no. I politely replied to him with the same answer. If I had known he was going to send people home early, I would have been naughty and stayed out all night drinking with my friends and called in sick. But because I'm a 'good girl' with a strong work ethic, I made the choice to leave early and trudge into work the next day.
Friends, life is too short. Work to live, don't live to work!
I really wish I could have been there! Alas, I am living to work and have missed out on all our birthdays! The Kimberleys is a beautiful part of the world, but nothing could replace my beautiful friends. xx
ReplyDeleteCome Home Kimmii!
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