stuff
Well, I've decided to update. I've not done so for the rememberable past, but I just felt like it.
So, Stephen (utupos) my housemate has, apparently, told someone that they can move in to our empty room before I have had the chance to meet/talk to/hear anything about her. Let me just say how *pleased* this makes me. Really.
In other news, I am now finished my working days for the week. I work Mondays and Wednesdays at a local bakery, doing patisserie-type things. (Those who don't know what 'patisserie' means should get culture, learn french, or possibly use babelfish.) Up until recently it was an every week-day type of thing until I got them to cut it back (Centrelink will, apparently, send large men around to your door if you work to much. Or possibly just stop paying you.). The only thing is that now that this is so, they give me enough stuff so I have to work much longer on the days I am there. I'm not sure if JC (my boss) just doesn't realize that I was talking about a reduction in the number of *hours* I worked, or just doesn't care.
To be fair, he is overworked. Although you read about things in the paper, they don't often really seem important unless you live them yourself. Like how it's been said that we have a labour shortage of skilled tradespeople. Such a shortage, apparently, that they will take a random off the street (me) and give them training enough to do a job that I think technically requires a two-year TAFE course.
Given this, and the fact JC works twelve-hour days at the minimum, I do feel guilty about saying I can't work as much as I do, or leaving something because I couldn't get time to do it.
But yes, no more working until Monday. Woo-hoo. (You must imagine my excitement, I'm feeling quite pooped at the moment.)
On an interesting, or perhaps not, seguay, I think that 'pooped' is an underused word. Who's with me?
I am just now watching my (DTV-recording of) Queer Eye for the Aussie Guy, or whatever it is. Let me just say that, as crap as the American one is, this is just as crap. I think I will delete it now. With prejudice.
Oh well, til later...
So, Stephen (utupos) my housemate has, apparently, told someone that they can move in to our empty room before I have had the chance to meet/talk to/hear anything about her. Let me just say how *pleased* this makes me. Really.
In other news, I am now finished my working days for the week. I work Mondays and Wednesdays at a local bakery, doing patisserie-type things. (Those who don't know what 'patisserie' means should get culture, learn french, or possibly use babelfish.) Up until recently it was an every week-day type of thing until I got them to cut it back (Centrelink will, apparently, send large men around to your door if you work to much. Or possibly just stop paying you.). The only thing is that now that this is so, they give me enough stuff so I have to work much longer on the days I am there. I'm not sure if JC (my boss) just doesn't realize that I was talking about a reduction in the number of *hours* I worked, or just doesn't care.
To be fair, he is overworked. Although you read about things in the paper, they don't often really seem important unless you live them yourself. Like how it's been said that we have a labour shortage of skilled tradespeople. Such a shortage, apparently, that they will take a random off the street (me) and give them training enough to do a job that I think technically requires a two-year TAFE course.
Given this, and the fact JC works twelve-hour days at the minimum, I do feel guilty about saying I can't work as much as I do, or leaving something because I couldn't get time to do it.
But yes, no more working until Monday. Woo-hoo. (You must imagine my excitement, I'm feeling quite pooped at the moment.)
On an interesting, or perhaps not, seguay, I think that 'pooped' is an underused word. Who's with me?
I am just now watching my (DTV-recording of) Queer Eye for the Aussie Guy, or whatever it is. Let me just say that, as crap as the American one is, this is just as crap. I think I will delete it now. With prejudice.
Oh well, til later...