hello calories...

Sick of feeling bloated. Sick of pants that cut me in half. I resolve that today is the day I finally cut back on my food intake. I pack a light lunch.

9.30am: Co-worker approaches Tupperware container in hand. Uh-Oh! She is new to cooking and wants feedback on all her ‘experiments’.

10.30am: 1 slice of banana and walnut cake later…calorie intake blown out.

proud momma...

Putting the washing on.
Hear a rustling sound in a pocket.
Investigate.
Condom. Still in wrapper.
Shock. Horror.

"Well at least he's prepared and practising safe sex." I tell myself.

Italy and France...

Italy and France: Goals

1. Book the bloody trip.
2. Re-read Almost French by Sarah Turnbull.
3. Learn to speak at least a few phrases of French, most importantly "Do you have vegetarian meals?" and "Strong skim milk latte with one sugar please." and "We are lost."
4. Worry about what to pack. Go clothes shopping if necessary.
5. Worry about the hellish length of the flight.
6. Worry about being stuck next to a rather portly passenger on the plane.
7. Research what to do in France after the tour finishes.
8. Get a passport.
9. Figure out if Teen•M is responsible enough not to kill off the duck and chickens [and cat if she's still kicking].
10. Concede Teen•M will most likely kill anything he is responsible for and book annoying aunt to come house sit.

the office nutbag...

You know who...
they are. Every office has one. The office nutbag. Sometimes they pack a double whammy...crazy and bitchy!

Ours is a...
real piece of work. She only managed to land her current position because she's a friend of the boss. "I already knew I had this job ages before I got it." I hear her say, loud enough for the entire floor to hear.  Our OfficeNB is uncouth, unladylike, has no tact, lets her flesh hand out all over the place, is negative about everything and everyone and loves to backstab everyone the first chance she gets. And I mean everyone - even the boss who gave her the job even though she was the least qualified out of all the candidates. One of her proudest moments was when she somehow worked the acronym FML into a manager's meeting and proceeded to explain it to those who didn't know what it meant.

Our OfficeNB isn't...
in my immediate team, and because I really don't gel with her, I rarely talk to her unless its work related. My lack of fawning all over her has obviously caused her some distress because she has taken to telling my two closest workmates that she hates me because of a, b and c. [The reasons aren't important and quite petty]. Interestingly though, she told the 2 girls 2 different a, b and c's about why she 'hates' me. I laughed. I couldn't give a rats arse if she likes me or not. Today, in front of those two girls, she came over to my cubicle to ask me if I'd had my hair done and how nice it looked. Only a true nutter would bitch about you to your closest workmates then compliment you in front of them!!!!!!! My take on it: she's trying to prove to them how nice she is. Christ. What is this? Primary school?

is this love?...

Dr Chris is on tonight....
we should totally get together and lose our clothes!.

back from the dead...

Gypsy is back...
to her annoying self today, stealing the duck's breakfast, meowing the place down and getting underfoot. I seriously don't know how this girl is still chugging along. She weighs about as much as a drinking straw and her body is being ravaged with old lady sores. I had made up my mind yesterday that if by Monday morning she was still not eating that we would make the journey to the vet and say our last goodbye. But while she's still eating, drinking and being somewhat merry I just can't do it. She may look like the walking dead but she still has life in her. I'm hoping that she will be the one to go peacefully in her sleep. I hate, hate, hate having to make the final boarding call. I even cried when I had to put down the two guinea pigs - Seven and Fudge. Not fun.

Big pat on...
the back for my cool, calm and collected nocturnal mum efforts last night. Teen•M left for a party around 8pm. Come 9am he still wasn't home. I went to bed with the preconceived idea that he most likely wouldn't come home last night and that is was likely he would crash at the party. This allowed me to sleep rather well, although I periodically woke and recognised the fact that I hadn't heard him come in. Of course when I tried ringing him several times this morning and he didn't answer I had to tell myself that he couldn't be in hospital because someone would have answered his phone for him. Finally when I reached him around midday he was in Maccas and couldn't see what the fuss was all about. Boys!

Last year at...
a women's business lunch I heard Paula Constant speak about her trek through the Sahara desert. She was an engaging speaker and most of us who went from work agreed that her story was interesting. She mentioned that not far into the walk her husband left her high and dry in the desert. At least that's what we remember her saying. Once back at work my cellmate googled Paula only to read that Paula had slept with one of the guides on the trek and that's why hubby left. Hmmmm. Her story intrigued me enough that I bought her first book Slow Journey South. This story begins on the beach in Broome and even here I can see that she is somewhat dissatisfied with her relationship. Her frustration with him is apparent during the birth of the idea of walking the Sahara. I'm hooked.

Caturday...

My cat Gypsy is really unwell today. She's had a really bad night with lots happening from both ends of her tiny little scrappy body and for the first time in history is off her food. She has skin cancer on her nose and after having some cut out years ago it has slowly been getting worse and worse this past year. Look who stopped by for a concerned bedside vigil this morning. I can't help but wonder if this is our last weekend with her.