- I was sick
- I went to the doctor (who was unhelpful and wearing green trousers, which in my opinion is not the sign of a reliable medical professional)
- I went to work and found out that, hilariously, I'm part of the team covering Fashion Week
- I poked my toe through my last pair of stockings and ran out of foundation, both things which only ever happen on the week before payday.
Also, it very nearly snowed today and now I am wrapped in a blanket. It has snowed excessively this winter (not where I live because we are at the top of the country and therefore closer to the sun) - which is nice, and got the newsroom more excited than I've ever seen them (all the investigative journalists were outside investigating the potential snow) - except if they close the airport I won't be able to visit Christchurch this weekend.
So I would like to second this sign:
Anyway, speaking of work: the other day I read the most delightful job description! One of work's more interesting aspects is reading the Employment Relations Authority decisions*, in which the employee says he should not have been fired and he would like some money and the employer says fuck off, you drove a digger into the office - and the ERA sorts it out.
And some poor junior is sitting there typing these things up, wondering how on earth to say everything politely.
Anyway, I was reading one the other day that read, "John Jones was employed at the time as a team leader on the vegetable polishing machines section..."
A vegetable polishing team leader! Well, I certainly have a new career goal.
"So, what do you do?"
"I am a vegetable polishing team leader."
"What... wow. What sort of vegetables do you polish?"
"Well... dirty ones. You name it, we polish it."
"Same as courgettes."
"Oh." Pause. "Potatoes?"
"No. No tubers. Everything but tubers. And peaches."
I think he was dismissed for fairly boring reasons but in my mind it went like this:
"Rupert! Rupert, these capsicums are only 90% shiny, this is simply not good enough."
*interesting because, being legal documents, reports of work disputes have to be phrased formally, leading to sentences like this: "Although Mrs Smith says she does not remember calling Mr Wilson 'a two-faced c*nt' she admits that she may have, as she thought he was one." As she thought he was one!
(I thought long and hard (tee hee) about the presentation of The C Word just there, because it is The Worst Word Of All and I wasn't sure if I should put in the little *. So I decided to spare you to game-changing 'u'. Let me know if you would rather have had the full word.)
(On a related note, got a press release the other day from family watchdog and general mouth-frothing moral crusaders Family First about the Boobs on Bikes event - which for the uninitiated is pretty much exactly what it sounds like - and they titled it "Bo*bs on Bikes," thus sparing the delicate eyes of the media the trauma of seeing the Boob word. Thank you, Family First!)