Laser beam pointers and spiders (again!)

Okay so only two major "issues" I wish to discuss today - both rather petty and "random" but what more would you expect from me really??

The first is a result of training session I attended at work today. It was about handing aggressive (verbal and physical) assault in the workplace (patients and their families) and was actually quite informative - that was not the issue. The dude who was running the program was also quite good as a trainer - no issues there. HOWEVER....when using the power point presentation he insisted on using one of those little red beam pointer things. Now...I understand they have their useful purposes...particularly in a huge lecture room where the presenter cannot reach the screen to point, and they are using diagrams etc. This dude though was standing right next to the screen...like if he desperately wanted to point to something he could have used his arm and finger.....AND they were like 2 sentence slides. No graphs/charts etc that are difficult to interpret. So every frikkin line he was pointing word by word as he read them out. ARGH....it was driving me insane. It meant I was no longer paying any attention at all to what he was trying to teach me, I was too busy fantasising about jamming the pointer up his left nostril while the room full of people applauded. Was I brave enough to write it on the feedback form? "The super sonic laser beam pointer SUCKED"? No I didn't. Big wuss right here.

Okay...no secondly I had another spider incident last night. I know, you'd swear I live in the jungle or something the amount of wildlife I encounter on a regular basis. I need to hire a full time ranger to hang out in my lounge room. ANYWAYS....so I wake up from night shift sleep at 2pm and stumble into the bathroom and see this huntsman (not massive, but reasonably big) on the wall above the shower...I cringe and get the sweats and slowly back from the room (like he is suddenly going to pounce on me if I move too quickly). I go get the kids from school and semi-forget about it till that night. I walk back into the en suite that night and there it is...it's hardly moved...just waiting for me to have a shower. HMMMF. So...I go get the insect spray and stand nervously in the bathroom for about 5 minutes, hopping from foot to foot working out my plan of attack and chickening out at the last second every time I went to do it. I finally get up the courage and spray like mad (from about a metre away of course), drenching the hairy thing in half a can of spray...it falls onto the shower floor convulsing and shrivelling up into a ball and stuff and I watch it intently (standing on the edge of the spa bath of course) to be sure he can't escape. I decide to drown him just for good measure and run out to grab a cup and fill it with water but by the time I return it is obvious that won't be needed. I watch for a few more minutes, decide I can't possibly have a shower given the circumstance (not brave enough for body removal at this point) and go to bed.

Next afternoon, almost 24 hours post-mortem I decide it is safe to dispose of it's carcass. I can't do the tissue thing to pick it up...way too scary. So I grab the vacuum cleaner and suck it up, goosebumps all over me as I do. I get on with my afternoon then have a shower a few hours later. I find myself standing there feeling rather anxious. My eyes flicker around the room and every little noise or movement makes me jump. I'm convinced that the much larger and hairier sibling of my victim is watching me and waiting to avenge it's brothers death and attack me. Seriously. You think I'm making this up to be amusing I'm sure. But I'm not. So...I survived the shower without anything happening much to my surprise. But now I'm convinced it is just trying to lure me into a false sense of security before, a few nights down the track when I finally walk into the bathroom without scanning every corner and wall - it will pounce and take great delight in my tears and screams. *sigh*

Anyways....as you can see it's been a rather stressful day, and I have motherly things to do before I can crawl into bed. Oh yeah...and that writing thing I keep saying I'll do *blush*....so goodnight!

Old people at the gym

I'd like to tell you my absence is a result of my immersion in the book and writing and all that, but sadly, no it isn't. I intend to get cracking on my writing this week, no more excuses I think I need to allocate a certain amount of time everyday like I do with the gym and just DO IT. I'm wishing I hadn't told people about it to be honest because I'm not sure it's good enough for other people to read and enjoy and now when I sit down to write instead of it just being for fun I'm thinking "would Wendy like this bit?" or "ohhhh Mum might not like that" ha ha. So I think I have to convince myself no one is going to read it and just have fun. I can edit out the explicit swearing and massive raunchy sex scenes before Mum reads it anyway (joking Mum JOKING). Anyways...speaking of the gym...

I have a bit of a vent I'm afraid. Look don't get me wrong I'm all for old folk (sorry again Mum, you probably shouldn't read this entry at all you may not talk to me again) keeping fit and all that jazz. In fact I'm hopeful that I'll still be going to the gym when I'm 60 or whatever, but....they really really annoy me most of the time. The way they walk on the treadmill at 3km an hour on THE BEST treadmill (situated in optimal position for best air conditioner and fan utilisation) chatting to their buddy next to them about who knows what (weather most likely ha ha). THEN they get on the frikkin weight circuit that CLEARLY states the rules of etiquette behind it. No more than 5 mins per machine blah blah blah. Argh they sit on the machine, their little friend follows them over and they TALK AND TALK AND TALK. Every few minutes they do ONE rep with the weights and then they sit there and keep talking. The hilarious thing is they talk about how "You know, I spend like 2 hours here some mornings and all I have lost so far is 2kgs. It must be because I'm gaining muscle....." For like 20 minutes they stay on that same machine while I'm finishing the whole circuit.

I break the rules and skip that machine and go around them and come back and they are still sitting there blabbing away. ARgh. Of course, all I do is huff and puff and make it really obvious I am waiting when what I actually want to do is yell at them "The reason you have only lost 2kgs is because the only calories you burn in the 2 hours you are here is used GOSSIPING to your friends. Bugger off to a coffee shop somewhere instead. I have a LIFE and a job to get to and just want to use that frikkin machine for 3 minutes and then go home!". Maybe after a night shift sometime I'll reach breaking point and you'll see me on the news for attacking an older woman at the gym with a barbell. I wonder if there is a name for it like Road Rage? Man I just wasted five minues of my life sitting here trying to think of some witty kind of spin off on road rage. I got nothing.

Oh my other gripe is PASSWORDS. Why isn't there a universal "rule" for passwords. Like how many characters and numbers and blah blah blah. I spend ridiculous amounts of time (spent swearing and stabbing the keys in frustration on the keyboard) trying to remember which frikkin password I decided to use on some random account that I haven't used for 2 months. Sometimes if I can...I'll give up (which I HATE doing, I feel I am admitting some sort of cowardly defeat that a little man in an office somewhere witnesses when he gets my "I forgot my password" notification and he chuckles smugly to himself and thinks "another one!") and hit the "forgot my password" option and I get the email sent to me and I look at it and go "WHAT THE HELL???? What was I smoking that day?? Why on earth would I use that as a password?" And I know they say you shouldn't use kids names and birth dates and all that jazz...but what other option is there if you actually want to remember it?? I get desperate and look around the room I'm in so I end up with stupid passwords like "candl3" - see, it seems clever at the time because instead of an "e" I used a "3"...tricky right?? Yeah, try recalling that 8 weeks later when your sitting in a different room with no frigging candles on display going "now what would it be??"

Anyways...vent over, must get out of my sweaty gym clothes and do some exciting motherly things like hang out washing and get groceries and then maybe I can sneak in a bit of writing before I pick the kidlets up from school.

Oh - and in case you were wondering I did survive Valentines Day without stabbing any random kissing strangers with a bic pen from my bag. I didn't dissolve into sobs at the check out of the shops when seeing some dude buying flowers. So kudos to me hey? Kids and I hung out at the lagoon for the afternoon then had a candle lit dinner of homemade burgers with softdrink in wine glasses LOL. Will put a photo up soon....

Night duty kills brain cells...

I reckon if they conducted some sort of study they would conclude that by the end of a night shift a person has lost 50% of their brain capacity and functioning. I will contribute some of my own personal experiences as examples of this:

*Just the other day, I get home from night shift and decide to read my book for a while to wind down. After reading a chapter I put the book on the bathroom sink while I have a shower. I get into my PJ’s and climb into bed, grabbing my book off the bedside table to read some more before I go to sleep. I can’t find where I thought I’d marked the page which is a bit odd, but I am used to thinking I have done things and finding I haven’t (not necessarily a post-night-duty thing either) so I find roughly where I think I’m up to and start reading. I read a page, most perplexed because the story just isn’t flowing for me although it does sound somewhat familiar…odd. So I turn back another chapter thinking I’ve just skipped forward too far. I read 3 or 4 pages very confused but persisting thinking it’s just because I am so tired. It finally clicks when I glance up the top of a page and see the book title. Wrong book. I am reading one I read a few weeks ago. Yes I did laugh openly at myself – anyone observing the whole scenario would have thought me a complete lunatic.

*It’s always a school day when I’m sleeping after night shift and I set my alarm for 2pm so I can get up and get changed and have something to eat before I pick the kids up from school. Twice I have slept through my alarm and awoken just after 3pm in a mad panic realizing I am already late to pick them up. One particular day I woke up in total confusion….I panicked…I’ve missed the alarm. Where am I? What day is it? What time was I supposed to wake up? Where am I late for? I jump out of bed and run into the bathroom frantically pulling my jeans on from off the floor before searching for a bra and shirt. Where are my shoes?? My hair is everywhere and my eyes are wild and I’m stressing big time. Then I stop. What the hell am I doing? I look at the time…and realize it is 11am. I’ve only slept for an hour and a half, and I still have several hours before I need to be up. I pull my jeans off and climb back into bed feeling like an idiot. Again…witnesses would have been highly amused.

*One morning I decided to be super duper organized and sit some meat out of the freezer to defrost for dinner that night whilst I slept after night shift. I remember climbing into bed that morning thinking how awesome I was. I’d finished my shift, picked up the kids and taken them to school before I came home as I always did. How amazing am I? I thought to myself - juggling working shift work and still getting the kids to school, and organizing dinner and all that. SuperMum, that’s me. When I woke up from my sleep and came out to grab something to eat before I picked the kids up I looked at the kitchen sink. What the hell? Who sat the icecream out of the freezer??? Er….okay, we are having melted milky off smelling icecream for dinner tonight huh?

And the effects of night shift can actually linger for up to 48 hours afterwards. And you may find yourself doing something absolutely ridiculous like posting a letter to your Nana that was actually highly personal and not at all for your Nana. And not realize until later when you find the ACTUAL letter that was intended for your Nana still sitting in the printer when it is too late and the confidential and private letter is sitting in a post office somewhere waiting to be sent to the wrong recipient. Well done.

Oh and then there was the first time I tried wearing a sleeping mask as advised by my fellow shift workers to "improve" my sleep post night shift. I felt like I was in a movie as I put it on and laid in bed...how glamorous! I woke up an hour later in a frenzy...I can't see!! I can't see!!! Wait - what the hell is on my face!!!??? And by the time I ripped it off my eyes I was in quite a fluster and had a hard time getting back to sleep.

Those are just a FEW examples of the after effects of night shifts. Seriously, it’s crazy the stuff I do. I’m usually hitting about 27 hours without sleep by the time I get to bed, and the longer it goes on the more bizarre my behaviour gets. I should make a badge or something to wear so that the people at the kids school, at the petrol station , the gym, or the supermarket - wherever I venture after night shift - are aware that I am functioning with only half my usual brain cells intact.

First day of year 1 and year 5...

No tears today!! Most impressive :D All three of us managed to keep it together! A lot of Bailey's friends weren't coming back this year, so I expected that to make today hard for him, but he was great! Emma was super brave! She was very worried, clung to me a bit when we got there, but then gave me a tight little smile and wave as she filed off to class with her new teacher!

My house feels so very very quiet and empty again! Have loads to do - washing, folding, ironing, exciting stuff like that. Was going to do some yoga but not so sure now lol, also crucial - must wash blowdry and straighten hair. Considered a nap since I am on night shift tonight, but I never do that so why start now? Oh, and really ought to do some writing, I have been SO very slack with it all. Told myself once school goes back though I'd put a better effort it, so no more excuses huh.

On that note...I'll go be productive I think.

Night out....

Catching people out...

You know those moments you have when you do something and desperately hope nobody saw it? Like when a piece of food falls out of your mouth when you are eating, you half trip on something, or realise your undies are hanging out the back of your pants or something? I love catching people in those moments and giving them a knowing smile. If I know them, I'll tell them, just so there is no doubt in their minds "I SO saw that!". But if it's a stranger or someone I don't know all that well, I'll be a little more discreet about it.

Like at the grocery shops the other day, in the personal hygiene section or whatever its called, some chick grabs a bottle of lubricant off the shelf and then very carefully arranges in her trolley so it's covered up by the bread and cereal and stuff. I smiled as I walked past her and she looked at me with a panicked "did she see that?" look on her face. YES I TOTALLY SAW IT! I wanted to yell. But the smile was enough....she knew. ha.

Or when a dude quite some time ago was standing nearby and realised his fly was undone. That was awesome. Just turned the side of my mouth up a little when he looked up all flustered so he knew it hadn't gone unnoticed. Yes I saw your red undies mate, you didn't get away with it.

So, just so I don't sound like a total cow, I'll share one (I'd be here for days if I shared them all) of my own personal moments of humiliation...

My bestie was over my place for a visit with her kids. Emma was only a few weeks old and was due for a feed very soon, but was sleeping and I was waiting for her to wake. We decided to get some lunch and I volunteered to duck out and grab it for us from red rooster while she stayed and watched the kids.

I'm standing in the line at red rooster when I feel that dreaded tingling/burning feeling when you are about to have a let down of milk and I realise in sudden horror that because I'd just been hanging at home, I did not have "breast pads" on. I stand there waiting for them to cook our lunch, facing this young dude about 20 years old or so when it happens. I look down to see two round wet rings of milk form on the front of my thin white cheesecloth type shirt. Trying to minimise the damage, I pull the shirt out from me and then......the milk starts dripping....DRIPPING onto the tiled floor below me, two constant drips coming out from under my shirt and this dude just stares with his mouth half open obviously thinking "what the hell is happening to that woman??". It was awful....AWFUL. The chick tells me my lunch is ready and I yank it quickly out of her grasp and make a very very fast exit, my face burning red the whole drive home. I never again forgot to wear breast pads I can tell you!

I'm a bit strange though....I often have those embarrassing little moments and look up to realise no-one saw and it is almost disappointing to me. If someone is there with me, I'm like "I so just spat half my drink out by accident, you missed it!" Cause the moment itself isn't overly humorous it's when someone has witnessed it that it becomes funny and embarrassing.

****

Hmm anyways, so I've been absent for a bit, I've ignored my writing of all sorts completely for a week, just couldn't do it for some reason. I opened up the most recent chapter of my book several times and just stared at the blinking cursor feeling totally uninspired about doing it. Not writer's block, the ideas are there, I know what I want to write, I just didn't feel like doing it. Probably because what I am writing at the moment is a positive happy story and I felt a bit miserable this week and just wanted to absorb myself in self pity for a bit. Better effort will be had this week.

Just one...

Just going to have one little chocolate from that box in the fridge. Or maybe two. But definitely no more than that.