Oh You Have Running Nose!
May 14, 2000
I had a chance today to cut my nails. No, honest, personal hygiene normally is on my agenda… somewhere. Since childhood I’ve cut my finger/toenails with a pair of wire cutters. My dad always taught me that they were the ‘man’s nail clippers’. He even gave me a set of wire cutters when I left home for the first time.
I was cutting my nails on the balcony, and after I returned inside I attempted to slide the screen door closed. The screen door has this habit of falling off it’s tracks and completely falling off, so you’re just left standing there with a detatched door in your hand. Come to think of it, our laundry and bathroom doors do this as well. I think I’m living in a unit designed by the Lego company.
*****
I realised this week that if you want to buy tickets to the Olympics, you’re FORCED to buy a News Limited newspaper. Surely that’s a bit dodgy when you think about it? Hmm.
*****
This week I did temp work for a technology company in their accounts department. For a technology company their offices were decidedly backwards. It was almost quite eerie - the whole design and atmosphere of the office felt like it was in the 60’s. There were lots of old guys walking around wearing bow ties and suspenders, and I even got a really old-fashioned calculator to use that had a paper printout of every calculation I made.
On Monday morning everyone was walking around commenting on what a beautiful day it was outside. I took a quick glance towards the window and thought it looked rather gloomy - I wasn’t sure what everyone was on about.
I realised later on that it actually was quite sunny outside. The problem was simply that the building’s windows were incredibly dirty.
Another strange thing about this company was that nobody smiled at all. Not the kind of atmosphere I’d like to work in full-time, that’s for sure - also, there was nobody my age, everyone was at least 40 I reckon.
On Monday I was still recovering from my cold I had on the weekend, so my voice was really husky. It was quite strange because I could barely talk without sounding like I was drowning, due to the phlegm bubbling up in my throat. (Ah, such a quaint mental image) This led to all sorts of unfortunate situations where people couldn’t understand me.
My supervisor was a strange Swedish woman. She introduced herself to me, then kept working. After a little while, she sat there staring at me for at least a minute.
Me: (glances worriedly at Swedish woman)
Swedish woman: (beams happily)
Me: Have I done something wrong?
Swedish woman: (gleefully) Oh, you have running nose!
Me: Um… yep.
I asked the Swedish woman if they had any mugs around so I could get a coffee. She led me to a sink, and pointed to the cupboard underneath it. It was filled with a small mountain of dirty, stinking coffee mugs. ‘Just wash one!’ she exclaimed with pure glee. There was no way I was going near any of those stinky old mugs. I didn’t like the look of the ‘recycled’ plastic cups either, with their sticky reminants of red cordial in the bottom.
Later that afternoon:
Swedish woman: So have you worked in accounts department before?
Me: No, but I used to do accounting in school. (thinking: not that I remembered anything of actual use)
Swedish woman: Ahhhh. Well, you will learn lots!
Me: Sure will. (thinking: I’ve already learnt that I don’t like working in dirty offices who don’t wash their coffee mugs)
For lunch, I ventured into the company canteen. I bought a can of Coke with my lunch, except the design of the Coke can I hadn’t seen used for at least a year. This made me wonder how old the food was that they were selling. I made a mental note to try and avoid this canteen in future.
The supervisor of the accounts department reminded me a lot of a maths teacher I once had at high school. This particular maths teacher’s hair would turn a brighter shade of red every week… just when we thought she’d reached the brightest point of the color spectrum she’d go even brighter. She also made up dumb words when she made comments at the bottom of your homework - she’d stick parts of two normal words to create some bastardised version of a compliment. Things like ‘Congratulabulous!’ or ‘Spectaculaful!’
*****
Adam found a website on krav maga last night, a martial art. He watched some video clips of it in action and now wants to learn it. As far as I can gather, it originates from Israel and seems to be some sort of combination between kickboxing and using basically any nearby objects to beat people senseless. On the website Adam found, they have lessons on how to do some of the basic moves in video clips. I’m the ‘volunteer’ who lets Adam practice out his new moves. It’s funny, because Adam will be halfway through some deadly move then stop and go ‘hmm, hang on’ and run back to his computer to double-check he’s got it right. He’d better learn krav maga properly, otherwise something like this could happen:
Thug: (attacks Adam with a knife in an alley)
Adam: Aiyaaaaaa! (grabs thug in headlock, twists him around 180 degrees and pauses) Um…. (long pause) Stay right here… I’ll be right back. (runs back home to his computer to learn what to do next)
Adam is still enjoying his new job, but he’s got an interesting letter from his old employer. Apparently they overpaid him a small amount in his last pay, and they want their money back. Seriously, what can they do? Fire him?
*****
The next day at work, I was still feeling sick. Do you know what I think would be nifty? Well, seeing as they were able to trace the author of that ‘I Love You’ computer virus in less than 24 hours, I’d like to see a service where you could trace the person who gave you a REAL virus like the flu. I’d trace them, track them down and sneeze all over them. Then again, under this theory, Symantec would probably start buying stocks in Kleenex.
I don’t understand why Kleenex are selling scented tissues. You use tissues most when you have a cold, and you can’t really smell anything then, can you?
Another lady who worked in the accounts department gave me some more forms to process. When she gave them to me I said ‘ta’, except it came out in a really weird husky voice because of my throat. She must have thought I said ‘hi’, because she gave me a very strange look and said ‘hi’ in a really weird voice.
Later that day I was having problems getting some accounts to balance up. It took me a good hour to nut it out, and it was getting a little frustrated, and I muttered ‘I’ll get the better of this’. The Swedish woman thought I was genuinely angry though.
Swedish woman: Are you upset?
Me: No, no, I’m just trying to figure out why this account won’t balance.
Swedish woman: Are you sure?
Me: Don’t worry, I’m fine.
Swedish woman: When I get stressed out I usually go and sit in a different part of the office for a while.
Me: Hmm, maybe I might go for a walk then (thinking: there’s not really many places to go - maybe I could go and sit in that pile of cardboard boxes in the least-murky corner of this office)
I was also sitting near a personal assistant for some high-up executive. However, the man the personal assistant worked for was overseas on business, and she didn’t really have a lot to do except argue with her boyfriend on the phone and download Bugs Bunny sounds from the net. She set ‘Ehhh, what’s up doc’ for her new email notification sound, and this guy got email every 10 minutes. It’s not a fun experience sitting near someone like this.
I also overheard a whisper that someone was about to get fired. This would have been interesting if I had’ve been around to see it - people who get fired always do something interesting on their last day. The person getting fired was probably one of those people who doesn’t seem to have any job at all. In every place I’ve worked there’s always one person who you can’t really put your finger on what they exactly do to earn their money.
Later that day I started filing things into the company’s enormous filing system. They had enormous sets of shelves that could slide back and forth to let you go through them all. I was filing in one shelf, when someone started pushing some shelves around on the other side, and I got crushed. They didn’t know I was in there - in fact, it was like one of those scenes in movies where two walls close in on someone. Unlike most movies, I didn’t manage to get out or figure a way to stop the walls from moving, so I was simply smooshed.
The Swedish woman and another woman were talking about the recent lottery in the US that was for half a billion dollars:
Swedish woman: How could you even know what do with that sort of money?
Other accounting woman: I’d build heaps and heaps and heaps of orphanges.
Swedish woman: Oh, that’s such a kind thought.
Other accounting woman: I’d make sure they were on good land, so then when I had lots of money I could sell the orphanges and build apartment blocks and get even MORE money!
This company used some bizarre word processing program I’d never even seen or heard of before - Wordstar. It’s spell checking was also questionable - when I mis-spelt the word ‘associate’ it offered ‘asshole’ as a correction.
*****
In my last journal entry, I was writing about how I couldn’t figure out why I associate the name Nadene with chickens. Della emailed me, wondering if it was possibly from Garfield - his pet rubber chicken is named Nadene. Of course this is it! I used to read Garfield heaps as a kid.
*****
I had some other bizarre random recollection of my childhood on the train the other day. I’m pretty sure you can’t get it in Australia anymore, but there used to be a Playboy brand of cola. My dad bought it for me once, and I refused to drink it. I was too scared to. I wasn’t too sure what Playboy was, but all I knew was that Playboy equaled bad and naughty - so I didn’t drink it.
*****
That new Grinspoon single, ‘Rockshow’ - it turns out their singer is singing ‘Get in a rockshow’ when I thought he was singing ‘Get an erection’.
Speaking of crap artists (heh), Adam’s continuing his assault on me with his Michael Jackson CDs. I think even the straightest acting gay guys have one really gay thing about them - in Adam’s case it’s his Michael Jackson hero worship. God, and then I found out he likes Janet as well (but they’re one person anyway).
On Thursday I got ready for work, and had the problem of the upcurling collar again. This one shirt I have, the collar never seems to point down. No matter how hard I iron it with our Non Ironing Iron ™, it still pokes up. Don’t understand the physics behind this.
*****
I had to wait ages to catch a bus to work on Thursday morning. I’ve noticed a difference between Melbourne and Sydney’s public transport - Melbourne will pack as many people as possible onto a bus or tram (try catching a tram up St Kilda Road in the morning; you’ll make heaps of new friends - involuntarily), whereas Sydney will just fill up a bus, then refuse to stop anywhere until there’s more room. I watched powerlessly as three buses zoomed past until a bus with room for me stopped.
Also that morning, I was waiting at some traffic lights for the little person to turn green, so I could cross the road. There was a Telstra van stopped at a green traffic light - I couldn’t figure out why, there was no other traffic around. The driver motioned at me with his hand that it was okay for me to cross the road, so I crossed over. As I got halfway across the road, the driver of the van suddenly accelerated down the road, almost taking me with him. Did I do something wrong, or misunderstand his hand signal? The only other hand signal he could possibly have been making to me was the simulation of male masturbation (I assume he’d be calling me a wanker) - but I swear it was a cross-the-road-now motion.
*****
I arrived at work, and the Swedish woman told me very firmly she had a headache, then stared at me for five minutes with alarming intensity.
She later asked me to process the TX-40 forms. I still have no idea what TX-40 forms are because I didn’t get around to procesing them, but when she said the word TX-40 everyone in the office went OOOOOOOOOOOOOOH like it was a really bad, horrible task. Maybe I should be glad I didn’t get to process them.
I tried to avoid using the toilets at this company where possible because they were in an atrocious condition. In my experience, the idea of installing actual toilets and urinals in men’s restrooms is pointless, because men will just walk inside a toilet and wee wherever they like - just go to a pub or nightclub toilet if you don’t believe me. I’m thinking about patenting a more practical style of male toilet - a giant sloping room with an aluminum floor that has a big drain at the bottom of the slope.
Later on Thursday morning:
Swedish woman: What time is it?
Me: About 11.30am.
Swedish woman: Oh my God you had no morning tea!
She exclaimed this not as if I’d forgotten to eat something, but as if I’d committed a war atrocity. The Swedish woman also had this annoying habit of asking me in detail of what I had to eat on my lunch break. On my first day I just ate McDonalds so I could avoid the horrors of the company canteen, but when I told her I ate McDonalds she picked on me heaps. On my second and third day I ate McDonalds as well (mmm, good diet) but when she asked me where I had lunch, I just lied and told her I went to the company canteen, so she wouldn’t tease me.
However, she probed further on Thursday.
Swedish woman: So what did you have for lunch today?
Me: Um…. I went to the canteen.
Swedish woman: I didn’t see you there.
Me: Oh, I was, sitting.. ahem… right up the back, behind a pole.
Swedish woman: Oh. I musn’t have seen you.
Me: Yeah.
Swedish woman: So what did you eat?
Me: (realising I don’t even know what the canteen sells, and deciding to go with a safe answer) A meat pie.
Swedish woman: Oh? I didn’t know the canteen sold meat pies.
Me: (bah! my answer wasn’t as skilful as I thought it was) I…. brought my own pie to work and heated it up.
Swedish woman: What did you heat it up in? There’s no microwave in the canteen eating area.
Me: I… (going red, realising I should have just told her I ate McDonalds)… I got the canteen people to heat it up for me.
Swedish woman: (sceptically) Uh huh.
When Swedish women say ‘uh huh’ sceptically, it’s quite scary.
*****
The whole time I worked at this company, it seems everyone’s phone didn’t stop ringing. I realised on Thursday why the phones were driving me batty. Every person’s phone rang with a different sound - it was explained to me that they used different sounds so you’d know when your own phone is ringing. The problem is that all the phone ringing noises sounded like sound effects from 80’s computer games.
Then from out of nowhere I got really, really sick and had to go home. I was stumbling through the train station, feeling like absolute crap and hoping nobody would come near me because I’d bite their head off. From out of nowhere a tattered Wilderness Society Koala appeared making far more noise than humanly necessary.
If you’re not from Australia, the Australian Wilderness Society sees it fit to raise money by sending out people dressed in tattered old koala costumes. However, this particular Wilderness Society Koala was TOTALLY UNECESSARILY rattling a tambourine quite loudly. The purpose of the tambourine could be either:
a) the novelty of Wilderness Society Koalas has worn off, so the Wilderness Society is introducing Wilderness Society Musically Gifted Koalas; or
b) the Wilderness Society Koala’s coin bucket was so empty, it was forced to rattle a tambourine to simulate the rattling of coins in the bucket.
When I arrived on the train platform, the CityRail disembodied voice man announced ‘This train is now leaving - please stand clear’. I’m quite used to hearing this, but in this case there was no train on the platform. I should have screamed ‘AIEEEE - GHOST TRAIN!’ and run away.
Why can’t we get b-grade celebrities to do train station announcements? It’d be entertaining, having a different star at your station each week. I’m sure people like Kerri Anne Kennerly are looking for work.
*****
You know, when I blow my nose, I can’t even make farty parp-parp noises properly (this isn’t related to my new illness - it’s to do with my cold last weekend). There’s also a few other things most people can do that I can’t:
* Blow bubblegum
* Crack their knuckles
* Make a balanced cup of coffee that’s not watery
* Parallel park a car
I was home sick for the rest of Thursday and took Friday off sick. I was supposed to work all this coming week as well, but the temp agency rang me up:
Temp agency woman: The company has decided there’s not really enough work for an extra temp, so they’ve decided they won’t be needing you next week.
Me: Sure, okay.
Temp agency woman: This isn’t anything to do with you, though! It is no reflection on your skills or performance at all.
Me: Oh, of course not. (No, it was probably to do with the puddle of snot under my desk or the crusty snot rings around my nose - or maybe it was my husky voice that nobody could understand)
However! I got some good news that very same day from a different temp agency I get work from. Mr Marketing was so impressed by my performance the other week that he wants me back for another week! This is SO cool - I loved working at Mr Marketing’s company, Mr Marketing and Mr Marketing Jnr were easily the two best supervisor people I’ve ever worked with. I’m not sure if any of the backpackers I worked with last time at the software company are coming back, but it’d be interesting to have more arguments with Nadene. According to the temp agency woman, Mr Marketing has ‘virtually created’ some work to get me back again, so this is all looking quite good.
*****
I picked up a package from the post office on Friday - it was an Easter egg mailed to me by my parents. This package had actually been sitting at the post office for quite some time, and it certainly tasted that way too. It was quite interesting the way my parents packed the egg up - they used a box twice the size of the actual egg itself, then used two different newspapers, a TV guide, sticky tape, masking tape, four shopping bags, and almost half a bale of hay (yes, hay) to pad the box.
*****
On Tuesday night Torana visited us.
Torana: I can’t waiiiiiit for tomorrow night! (wiggles fingers)
Me: What’s tomorrow night?
Torana: (looks as if I’ve put a knife through his stomach) You’re asking me what’s on tomorow night?
Me: I’ve got no idea what’s on tomorrow night.
Torana: Tomorrow… (wiggles fingers wildly)… tomorrow is the PINNACLE of SPORTING ENTERTAINMENT!
He defines the NRL State of Origin Queensland vs NSW match as the pinnacle of sporting entertainment. Well, I wasn’t to know this. There was another thing I was wondering as well:
Me: What’s with this wiggly fingers thing you do? I’ve noticed I’m starting to do it all the time. I picked it up off you.
Torana: This… (wiggles fingers)… is what you do before you make a great statement.
Me: Is there a name for this? (wiggles fingers)
Torana: This is called… (wiggles fingers like he’s never wiggled them before)… THE PINNACLE!
Adam and I decided that ‘pinnacle’ is honourary word of the week.
*****
Torana also used our bathroom and had a poke around all our stuff. I use an electric toothbrush and he found this most amusing.
Torana: Hahahah! You’re crap!
Me: No I’m not. My parents gave it to me as a gift, anyway. I wouldn’t really go out and buy an electric toothbrush generally.
Torana: Oh my god. That is so crap. It’s like… you can’t use a normal toothbrush so you have to go and get the eletronic version.
*****
We took some photos this week. Of course, we were drunk.
When Adam drinks too much, he starts kickboxing everything and showing off.
I don’t normally look this bad when I drink. No, honest.
*****
I’ve noticed that whenever I work at a company on a temp assignment, a lot of people tend to ignore you and you get left out because you’re ‘just the temp’. People will say ‘Oh, go and give this to Peter please’ and you’ve got no idea who Peter is. This is why I like to catch up on gossip about employees who I don’t know. It’d make things much easier:
Supervisor: Could you go and give this to Peter please?
Me: Oh… is that the Peter who got caught going to a dodgy massage parlour last weekend?
