Tuesday, May 05, 2009

Taking Stock

I spent from 5.30am this morning til 2pm stocktaking at a New World near you, and am doing the same tomorrow at a Woolworth's, before going to clean my aunt's house, and then to kickboxing. There is not much punctuation in this post because I am really really tired & quite frankly cba making this readable.

Stocktaking is not exciting but the time passes quite quickly and sometimes interesting things happen (not today). Today I started at 5.30am as I believe I may have mentioned and let me tell you it is really fucking early at that hour, especially when your usual rising time is like 8 and then suddenly somehow it's ten to 6 and you are counting packet upon packet of bacon. At one stage I held 12 kilos of bacon in my arms. I swear the bacon almost killed me. I only had a piece of bread for breakfast because it's kind of obscene to eat anything substantial at 5am unless it is a kebab and you're on your way home from town and/or drunk and I was neither of these. I was just sitting there counting these packets of bacon and being hungry. Then I was relocated to the out-the-back (storehouse) chiller & counted butter for a while and then bam! I rounded a corner in the chiller and there it was. Piles of delicious smallgoods waiting to be counted. So I went back to the bacon. Bacon bacon fucking bacon. Then I counted wine for a bit, and now all I want is wine and bacon.* At the same time. Maybe even in the same glass. I went out for dinner the other night and for dessert I had tiny rockmelon balls suspended in gewurtztraminer jelly and if they can do it with rockmelon then why not with bacon? It would look like this:
On second thought maybe that would be disgusting.

Anyway after I was done with the bacon I went into a walk-in freezer and counted in there for about half an hour, or until I couldn't feel my toes and my fingers were really sore. The guy who was counting in the bay (bit of shelving) next to me said with no little sense of wonder, "I can feel my nose hairs freezing!" I think it's actually your boogers which freeze, in case anyone's interested. (If you actually know what freezes please tell me. Me and the other guy kept sniffing in huge gusts of air just to feel it rush icily up our sinuses.) Was like the Antarctic would be if there were no penguins or polar bears (you're a smart kid, you can just pick the right one) and everyone was counting packets of frozen peas instead of exploring. I was going to write down some witty comments about working in the freezers but the ink in my pen was half frozen (not kidding).

Did manage to note down that lots of cartons of food had DON'T DROP printed on them. I guess maybe it happened a lot for a while there.

Best product slogan of the day: "(Some Toilet Paper) Double Length - It's Twice as Long!" No fucking shit, toilet paper company. What next? "Toilet Paper! Quite Nice To Wipe Your Arse With!" "Toilet Paper! Not Gritty!" "Toilet Paper - It's On A Roll!" Pun.

Sorry, it's been a long day and I am a big fucking grouch. Mainly because I am tired and I totally used to be able to function on barely any sleep and now I can't what is this am I getting old am I no longer cool? I have about ten million bloggable things and most of them are rants but now is not the time. I am talking to several internet people and appear to be being obnoxious whoops. OH WHOOPS. Next thing you know I will be making declarations of love and vomiting on my keyboard and all I want is bacon! and wine.*

Kate bought a jersey last week and she loves it. It is big and green and called Big Green. She just came into my room and told a long story about Big Green and how he nearly got wet and so she ran all the way home. It was like one of my stories. Her boyfriend does not like Big Green. "Do you think I look like a hobo?" she asked him. "No," he said, "it is just that Big Green looks like something a hobo would wear." When I was little my favourite sweater was called Bokko (because he had a house on him) and I wore him all the time. I think all the best sweaters look a little hobo-y. Hobo-ish? Hobo-like? Hobolean? Hobocore? Hobotic? Hobo-erotic? Derelicte. I'm going to bed.

*and a onesie

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