Monday, February 28, 2005

It's only 9.44...

So far today I've been given the run-around between three delivery centres, I've been hung up on, transferred to an engaged phone number, I've dealt with incompetent staff, and received stupid emails. This is not a good day.

Thursday, February 24, 2005

Today was awful. Absolutely awful. It seemed like everybody was bitching and moaning about something all the time. Not even the usual complaints about customers and delivery centres... today most of the bitching was about somebody I like and respect, which made me feel really uncomfortable sitting there listening to it. And then there was Ange's mysterious problem, causing her massive stabbing pains all down her left side, and Louise's key broke, and Paula had an emotional day and we had a bitch session against Australia Post. Nothing went right, nothing was enjoyable, nothing was even amusing. It just sucked.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

I've always thought of myself as the kind of person that interesting or amusing things don't really happen to. My life has been mediocre and average in most respects. I grew up in a country town, went to a country school, was hopelessly misunderstood and picked on. I dropped out of TAFE, I had a few mediocre relationships with mediocre people, I had some pretty damn mediocre jobs. The notable exception is my engagement to a fucking fantastic guy - that is, Aidan. Most of my anecdotes either centre around Aidan, or are only amusing to Australia Post staff. For instance: "Today I spoke to a guy who expected his mail redirection to work!"

This entry hasn't got a point, nor has it got a resolution. It's just rambles and incoherent thoughts. Never mind.

I sent Brad an SMS this morning: "Did mum tell you Aidan and I are engaged?" He called me not long after, the first I've heard from him since before the engagement. Mum had told him, but he hadn't called. Somewhat typical. I think he's a bit weirded out: "You're younger than me!" like he was meant to be first or something. But he did congratulate me. I have a bit of an odd relationship with my brother. I don't know him very well, and rarely have anything to say to him. I suppose it works both ways.

Again, no point. Mutterings.

Sunday, February 20, 2005

I suppose I should start at the start, although I'm tempted to begin with the concussion. No, I'll get to that later. Yesterday my parents and Aidan's parents met for the first time, over lunch at La Scala. It went very well, I think. They liked each other enough, and not too much - that is to say, they didn't exchange phone numbers or mention starting a business together.

Ok, Ok, I'll get to the concussion. Chantell came over last night and threw her wallet at my head and concussed me! I'm very excited about it - I've never been concussed before as far as I know. Aidan was very concerned and looked after me like... I can't make a similie because I've never seen anything like the way he looked after me. It was incredibly sweet and I'm most grateful.

I've been up and about a bit this morning, thinking myself to be fine, but I shouldn't have. I couldn't finish my breakfast at Picasso's Cafe, I felt woozy and had to come home... very very slowly!

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Wow. I have been systematically romanced, seduced, fed, and photographed.

Last night was just incredible. Aidan picked me up from Seaford station as usual, and there I was all tired and trying hard not to be grumpy and expecting to go back to his place and bum around... instead, he drove me down to beautiful Rye beach, where his parents were setting up a picnic for us. A candle, meats, cheese, nuts, salad, and of course his father the professional photographer. (Darn, I had hoped to stay off film for as long as possible!) It was the most beautiful night, with the sea lapping gently beside us and the slight breeze, and jealous people walking past with sandy dogs... Wonderful! Thank you, Aidan, I love you.

Sunday, February 13, 2005

Here I am at Aidan's place and he's at work. Matt's here. I'm actually speaking to him, having something resembling a conversation, which is kind of cool and unusual. My nose is annoying. It keeps running and sniffing and sneezing and these guys never have tissues!

Last night was sort of weird. We went out for dinner, supposedly with Aidan's workmates, and half the people there turned out to be people he didn't know, and the people he (and I) wanted to be there, weren't. So it was awkward, uncomfortable, and somewhat pointless for me. Given that I was there for the express purpose of meeting his workmates.

After dinner we went for a walk on the beach. The beach was empty, chilly, dark. It was awesome. There is something about the ocean at night - it has a mystery and power I can't understand. It is unknowable, ineffable, and beautiful. We walked and talked about many things. Evolution, conservation, ethics, Michael Jackson. Intriguing mix, I know. God knows how we covered all those things in one short walk. Fun though.

I love that Aidan and I can actually talk about things like that. It's not just "Lovely weather" and "How was work?". I also love that he can teach me or show me other viewpoints. A conversation with Aidan is never boring. It's never an arguement; I never lose and I'm never wrong, I just learn and take on board another idea.

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Last night was... odd. In a cool way. Long and pointless wanders around Seaford, talking about biochemistry, physics, quantum, and so forth. Stayed down there, which is always painful in the mornings - waking up early and taking a train trip at least twice as long as usual! But that's ok. It's worth it to spend that one extra night with my beloved fiance.

The mail today contained some long-anticipated mail, and I got a parcel delivered at work today. So now I have my ThinkGeek t-shirts and my Discworld stamps. Excellent!

I'm hungry. I should go shopping or something, but that requires movement and I'm tired and lazy...

Sunday, February 06, 2005

I'm sort of bored. It's been a slow relaxing weekend, but today Aidan's been at work and I've had very little I could be bothered doing. I bought a book yesterday, Bill Bryson's Short History of Nearly Everything, I've read quite a bit of it already and am finding it fascinating. However there is only so much non-fiction I can take in one day! Now I'm tired and bored. Back to work tomorrow, which isn't great but at least it's something to do with my time. Also I get paid for it. This is good.

Thursday, February 03, 2005

I am a mass of contradictions. Up to and including my own self-perception. On the one hand, I feel downtrodden and laughed at and inferior. On the other, I feel smarter, more capable, superior. But I hate that, I hate to think I'm the kind of person who looks down on people. Then again, I hate feeling downtrodden. But I'd hate to place myself on equal footing with most of the human race. I can't figure out who I am or how I should feel or how I compare to others.
Damn Frank is back! Not Frank at work who's cool in a depressed sort of way. Frank a customer, who has problems. I don't mean incorrectly delivered mail, although that's the problem he thinks he has. His problem is, he has no problem but complains anyway. Frank is what we call a serial pest. This is different from a cereal pest such as cockroaches in the Weet-Bix pack. Frank has seven complaints on record, going back to mid-2002. Each one is a complaint about his postie: he's receiving mail for other people; other people are receiving his mail; mail is left hanging half out of his letter box; mail has been opened prior to delivery. On each occasion we have followed up with the postie, the delivery centre, the area manager, and so forth. And it is becoming clear that nothing is actually wrong. He just likes to complain, and he doesn't like women - his postie is a woman, as am I.

On the other hand, life is treating me quite well and I have very little to complain about! I am in love, and I'm loved too, lots! I'm engaged to be married to my beloved Aidan, and this has caused me to do and say odd things. Odder than usual! I keep feeling like laughing out of pure joy, and nothing can get me down - not even Frank! I'm bouncing off the walls, on cloud 9 (or possibly 10), I'm grinning like a maniac!

One of my recent blogs referred to my need to write more fiction. So I did. See? I'm actually quite proud of those two efforts featuring Renee - I'm considering taking those snippets and turning them into something longer. The Storm has an unintentionally sharp end - I was writing it at work and then I had to go and do work and got distracted and didn't end up coming back to it. I like the feeling that writing gives me. I feel like I can create something, put a little of myself into something. I like the feeling of reading a well-crafted sentence and realising that I wrote that. I can't quite explain why I love writing so much - just that it fills a need somewhere in me.

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

An engagement ring on a finger like mine will never look right. Engagement rings belong on the fingers of people who file their nails and don't write on their hands.
I walked home with no socks on and shoes full of water.

I've decided I need to write more fiction.


I have a hole in my shoe. I discovered this by the unpleasant yet effective method of stepping in a puddle. Despite my wet sock, today is good. I am in high spirits and it's raining at last!

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

My head's doing strange things tonight. My eyes wander around the room, pausing on an object occasionally, and random thoughts pop up about that object. I was on the phone to Aidan verbalising those thoughts, and I think I made no sense whatsoever. Phone and floor both have ffff sounds. So does elephant. I want an elephant. Altoids always sounds like some throat disease, not mints. I'm naked from the waist down and it's not even for a good reason. I'm spending too much on my credit card. I wish I could write like Douglas Adams. I'm in love with Aidan and I'm going to marry him. His ring is on my finger and it's pretty. My bookshelf is overflowing. The latest rose Aidan gave me is dying. This sticky tape isn't mine I think it's Cossack's.

Did I mention...

the really pointless emails? Such as, "Item not delivered". I feel like replying "Thank you for your complete lack of information or assistance in this matter. Get rooted."


I love reading the emails we get from customers. Their gripes, whinges, anger, and pettiness just make me feel better about my own life.