đź–•

My writing might (might) often become a pale pastiche of something funnier, edgier and more articulate, including this week when I felt it would be useful/constructive to have a ranty tanty and to imitate that most fabulous of bloggers, farkew, and say a big fucking finger to everything that has fucked me off over the last week.

To whit:

– fuck you, sales assistant at Spencer St outlet, who  upon seeing me in shoulderless top, suggested it might be better as a ‘gift for your niece or daughter’

– fuck you, milk choc Lindt bunnies for being so awesomely smooth, creamy and gorgeous and forcing me to gorge on them

– fuck you, adult acne. Who agrees with me? I have fucking wrinkles and fucking pimples!

– fuck you (and a big fuck off) to Monash IVF, who clutter my facebook and google ads (see also Clearblue, fucking elevit, et al, all of you)

– fuck you, to cafes who don’t accept eftpos under $10 and then have something of $9.90 on the fucking menu. Daft Morons.

– fuck you, pain and suffering occurring on the earth right now, and lastly!

– fuck you hair for not looking as nice as Julia Zemiros

That’s better. Thanks readers, may all your fuck yous come true. Feeling better already. 

PS: spoke too soon. A very sincere fuck you you to the Belgrave line. Wahhhh 

It’s 1993, clearly.

A person I work with was leaving the business, and last night there were some work drinks at a bar in the city that, happily, offered two for one basic spirits. After three hours of gin, I had to head to my next engagement, and duly said my goodbyes. There was some hugs and air kisses goodbye, but when I went to say goodbye to one person, what I vaguely suspected for some time was confirmed when she literally cold shouldered me. As in, she turned her back as I went to say goodbye to her. It was public and obvious, but in the interests of not embarrassing anyone any further, I laughed, shrugged and moved to the next person to say goodbye. I then went outside, lit a fag and walked down to the river for a wine with people I actually do like.

It had occurred to be that Cold Shoulder didn’t like me much – she is perfectly pleasant when other people are around but when other people aren’t she may freeze me out, or ignore me, or make snide comments. I haven’t tried to be her friend but have tried to build a cordial working relationship with her.

I am no threat to this woman whatsoever. I am reasonably certain I haven’t done anything to offend or upset her, apart from resigning after a short employment period, which isn’t anything to do with her. It did feel a little like third form behaviour from someone who is reasonably senior in an organisation.

Work drinks can be fun – and they are good to join when someone who is respected and liked is leaving. Which is probably why I won’t be having any when I leave in 2 weeks.

Not everyone likes everyone. And that’s fine and expected. But the abovementioned story, and others, illustrate as to why I won’t be sorry to leave that place at all.