Undertaker Sex

I was running the Death Index today and I remembered hearing someone say that people always hook up at funerals because the closeness of death makes people want to feel alive i.e. have a quick bonk in the mortuary bathrooms. Which led me to this conclusion: undertakers must shag like rabbits. I mean, dealing with death all day? I'm pretty sure a funeral director couple would have the best sex life ever. If anyone can provide any insight into this let me know 'cause I'm pretty keen to find out more.

I had an enormous moral dilemma at work today.

The paper I work for has a big Property section on Wednesday and Saturday. The deadline to advertise in the Saturday Properties is 1pm Friday. Naturally this means that about 10am Friday morning every real estate agent in the wider Chch area goes "Oh yeah, better fax through my ads for the week" and everything goes crazy. At about 12.45, everyone is frantically typing their nuts off to get all their property ads set before deadline. Phone calls at this stage are a pain in the ass, especially phone calls that aren't even property-related.

If you are a grieving widow wanting to place a death notice, this is not a good time to call. I didn't even realise it was possible to be irritated by a grieving widow. While I was genuinely sorry for her loss and instantly dumped most of my pending Property ads to give her the time she needed, I must confess that my instinctive reaction was not a very good one. My instinctive reaction was 'Stop crying and give me the fucking notice already, do you not realise I have to do my Properties!?" ...aaand that's another step closer to Hell. Sigh.

Step in the other direction - a woman called after lunch and, as soon as I answered the phone, apologised for bothering me in a broken, whispery sort of a voice, and carried on the whole conversation in the same agonised tone. It turned out that her mother had sent her to the Chch mental institution at a relatively young age, and she was released recently and had spoken to someone at the paper about doing a story on all the things she'd seen and experienced. But had lost their phone number. I'm not sure whether or not this was true (she may just have been a lonely nutter), but neither of us knew who to put her through to and so she is now posting her exposé to the paper, attn: myself, in the hopes that I will be able to point it in the right direction. Probably I should've transferred her to someone else but she was so freakin' fragile that it seemed easier for everyone if I just dealt with it. (Also I was putting off making a phone call to a real estate agent whose ad I fucked up.)

So I think I'm probably more or less on an even keel, karmically speaking.

Thank you all for your questions on my Question Time post! If you haven't asked one or more questions yet, now's your chance. Tomorrow and the rest of the week (through to next Weds) are also your chances.