Aw, just checked my emails and found my first nasty response to this blog.
(It's the reply to the thing about the Antiques Roadshow, I know you're all interested now...)
loser.
I did get a very nice email from Ashlee(don't know them, either), too, so swings and roundabouts...
29 July 2005
28 July 2005
Closet Brit...
I was going on a night out with the netball girls after our match on Saturday.
And after my shower and dinner I thought i'd watch a bit of TV before heading over to Gibby's with my bottle of cider.
Best not to be too early, I thought.
I settled down in front of the box as familiar title music trumpeted into the lounge and I snuggled into the sofa, anticipating the thrill of guessing the price, the comforting sight of objects from home and laughing at the gawping bystanders...
When the phone rang and an already merry netball team shout at me for not being there, I am embarrassed to admit my excuse...
I was watching the Antiques Roadshow.
And after my shower and dinner I thought i'd watch a bit of TV before heading over to Gibby's with my bottle of cider.
Best not to be too early, I thought.
I settled down in front of the box as familiar title music trumpeted into the lounge and I snuggled into the sofa, anticipating the thrill of guessing the price, the comforting sight of objects from home and laughing at the gawping bystanders...
When the phone rang and an already merry netball team shout at me for not being there, I am embarrassed to admit my excuse...
I was watching the Antiques Roadshow.
footprints...
I went for a run along the beach t'other day.
It was a beautiful evening and the sunset was spectacular.
I was following footprints along the shoreline, partly because I like the feeling of stepping in other people's shoes, so to speak, and also because this is usually the best way to avoid sticky or deep sand.
So, I was huffing and puffing my way across the final few kilometres of my run when I noticed a set of particularly striking footprints.
They were going in the other direction but looked so strong and strident that I took up their trail.
I had to speed up a bit and stretch my stride just to keep up with the perfect prints.
I marvelled at how straight and even the runners path had been, how each step had left the clear imprint of their trainer sole on the sand.
It was a full ten minutes before I realised that they were my own footprints.
It was a beautiful evening and the sunset was spectacular.
I was following footprints along the shoreline, partly because I like the feeling of stepping in other people's shoes, so to speak, and also because this is usually the best way to avoid sticky or deep sand.
So, I was huffing and puffing my way across the final few kilometres of my run when I noticed a set of particularly striking footprints.
They were going in the other direction but looked so strong and strident that I took up their trail.
I had to speed up a bit and stretch my stride just to keep up with the perfect prints.
I marvelled at how straight and even the runners path had been, how each step had left the clear imprint of their trainer sole on the sand.
It was a full ten minutes before I realised that they were my own footprints.
Fate...
Well.
I went to see my ex-manager yesterday morning to enquire about why I had been so suddenly dropped from the staff of SX.
I had intended to be all calm and ice cold in my demeanor; tearing strips off the backstabbing wench etc etc.
However, in true cheeky mermaid styleee, this is not what actually happened.
I spent most of the time in her mercifully self-contained office, crying like a baby.
Why is it that my eyes start misting up when i'm angry or frustrated?
I'm an emotional weirdo.
I laugh when i'm frightened or shocked, cry when i'm angry and remain tear-free when upset or hurt.
I must have been dropped on my head as a baby.
Anyhoo, It turns out that I was betrayed by the folk in the filing dept.
They had complained that I had overdone it on the weekend and was too tired to work properly on the Monday. They showed the manager a pile of claims that had been incorrectly collated.
Interesting.
Especially so when I didn't do any collating last Monday, I was filing all day long.
And as for having a heavy weekend, well, it is true that I was tired after my netball match and Sunday afternoon surf but I doubt my yawning affected my filing capabilities much.
So it seems I was set up by the people I had come to look on as friends as well as colleagues.
Pah.
Hence the watery eyes and squeaky voice- I couldn't believe they could do this to me, knowing how much I needed the money, the two-faced bingo-winged filing-facists...
So.
I sat by the river and finished 'The Idiot's guide to improving your IQ'- an amazing book that tells you to stop learning things by rote and just use your instinct and senses more, ace.- and decided to forget the losers at SX and move onward and upward on my own.
I called up Michael, a dude who is on the board of trustees for 'Career Moves' -the recruitment agency for people with disabilities that Julia (Jules) works for in Hamilton. (I had met him the week before at a wee drinks do for their 5th birthday, and he had told Jules that they needed someone to file some stuff for them...)
I walked to his office, met everyone, was given a job starting Monday and asked,
"So, how much would you like to be paid?"
Erm, no too sure how to answer this one.
"Well, I was getting $12 per hour at SX for just filing"
"How about $15 ph to start off with and maybe we'll put you on salary if you want to stay on and do the accounts administration post, we've been trying to fill for months?"
"OK"
And this is for an accountancy firm who manage trusts, including the Silver Ferns Netball team(the national team), various charities and they go to gigs all the time! Woo Hoo!
You see, it's fate.
I went to see my ex-manager yesterday morning to enquire about why I had been so suddenly dropped from the staff of SX.
I had intended to be all calm and ice cold in my demeanor; tearing strips off the backstabbing wench etc etc.
However, in true cheeky mermaid styleee, this is not what actually happened.
I spent most of the time in her mercifully self-contained office, crying like a baby.
Why is it that my eyes start misting up when i'm angry or frustrated?
I'm an emotional weirdo.
I laugh when i'm frightened or shocked, cry when i'm angry and remain tear-free when upset or hurt.
I must have been dropped on my head as a baby.
Anyhoo, It turns out that I was betrayed by the folk in the filing dept.
They had complained that I had overdone it on the weekend and was too tired to work properly on the Monday. They showed the manager a pile of claims that had been incorrectly collated.
Interesting.
Especially so when I didn't do any collating last Monday, I was filing all day long.
And as for having a heavy weekend, well, it is true that I was tired after my netball match and Sunday afternoon surf but I doubt my yawning affected my filing capabilities much.
So it seems I was set up by the people I had come to look on as friends as well as colleagues.
Pah.
Hence the watery eyes and squeaky voice- I couldn't believe they could do this to me, knowing how much I needed the money, the two-faced bingo-winged filing-facists...
So.
I sat by the river and finished 'The Idiot's guide to improving your IQ'- an amazing book that tells you to stop learning things by rote and just use your instinct and senses more, ace.- and decided to forget the losers at SX and move onward and upward on my own.
I called up Michael, a dude who is on the board of trustees for 'Career Moves' -the recruitment agency for people with disabilities that Julia (Jules) works for in Hamilton. (I had met him the week before at a wee drinks do for their 5th birthday, and he had told Jules that they needed someone to file some stuff for them...)
I walked to his office, met everyone, was given a job starting Monday and asked,
"So, how much would you like to be paid?"
Erm, no too sure how to answer this one.
"Well, I was getting $12 per hour at SX for just filing"
"How about $15 ph to start off with and maybe we'll put you on salary if you want to stay on and do the accounts administration post, we've been trying to fill for months?"
"OK"
And this is for an accountancy firm who manage trusts, including the Silver Ferns Netball team(the national team), various charities and they go to gigs all the time! Woo Hoo!
You see, it's fate.
26 July 2005
Winter walk...
This is Jules (my friend and landlady), her son, Caleb (in the middle), and Kody (Caleb's friend and Carla from Netball's son...)
All with the beautiful Mount Karioi sleeping soundly in the background..
Cool at last...
Well, long story short, I've been sacked.
Fired.
Given the old heave ho.
Hasta la vista, baby.
After a long day spent in the dank filing cupboards that have, sorry had, become my home for 371/2 hrs a week, I said cheerio to my colleagues as normal, only to receive a call at 8.30 pm from Carmel, my agency recruiter person, to tell me the bizarre news...
"you been fired."
Oh.
"Why?"
(And here's the really hillarious part...)
"you've got a bad attitude."
I couldn't get one of those if i tried.
I'm cursed by my hard work ethic of many years standing- even if the job is crap, and it usually is, I do the best I can and try to enjoy it.
It is officially the lamest excuse ever.
I'm popping back to the office tommorrow to ask for the real reason and to tell my manager how truly pathetic, ineffectual, back-stabbing and cowardly she is.
She got someone else to do the dirty work, gave a false reason why, said a cheery goodbye and 'see ya later' as I left work yesterday afternoon knowing what she was about to do.
I didn't go today because I am that angry that I thought i might cry with frustration in front of the old crone, best leave it 'til tommorrow when i can systematically wipe the floor with her using my normally hidden talent for eloquent verbal slaying.
Keep you posted, i guess...
Fired.
Given the old heave ho.
Hasta la vista, baby.
After a long day spent in the dank filing cupboards that have, sorry had, become my home for 371/2 hrs a week, I said cheerio to my colleagues as normal, only to receive a call at 8.30 pm from Carmel, my agency recruiter person, to tell me the bizarre news...
"you been fired."
Oh.
"Why?"
(And here's the really hillarious part...)
"you've got a bad attitude."
I couldn't get one of those if i tried.
I'm cursed by my hard work ethic of many years standing- even if the job is crap, and it usually is, I do the best I can and try to enjoy it.
It is officially the lamest excuse ever.
I'm popping back to the office tommorrow to ask for the real reason and to tell my manager how truly pathetic, ineffectual, back-stabbing and cowardly she is.
She got someone else to do the dirty work, gave a false reason why, said a cheery goodbye and 'see ya later' as I left work yesterday afternoon knowing what she was about to do.
I didn't go today because I am that angry that I thought i might cry with frustration in front of the old crone, best leave it 'til tommorrow when i can systematically wipe the floor with her using my normally hidden talent for eloquent verbal slaying.
Keep you posted, i guess...
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