Little Old Me

It's been awhile since I visited my old blog. I cringe a little, but here are some extracts. I wish I still had access to entries from the entire year to revisit failed relationships and remember trying to coerce myself into falling for someone I knew deep down I had no interest in, but perhaps it's for the best that those long-deleted entries are long-deleted. Otherwise my husband-to-be will be twitching again, won't he? :)

About 50% of the posts were related to difficult customers at work. The frequency of such encounters had decreased significantly since changing jobs but those hair-pullingly frustrating moments provide, at least, feeble conversation starters.

"Exhibit A: Customer contemplates our range of thermometers, points to a forehead thermometer and insists that it's for the ear.

"That's a forehead thermometer." I say.
"A what?"
"A forehead thermometer. You press it to the forehead for a reading."
"What's forehead?"

I don't believe this one requires any further explanation.

Exhibit B: Customer wants Codral 4 Flu, which contains pseudoephedrine.

"I'll need a photo ID with that one." I say.
"I have a pension card!"
"No no, I need something with your photo on it."
"I have a pension card!"
"Your pension card doesn't have a photo. I need some photo ID."
"I have medicare!"
"Medicare isn't photo ID. I need photo ID."
"I have a pension card!"

After that one left, Burak said "I fucking want to kick him in the head"." - 28.o7.o7

I noticed the distinct emoness of my tone during the second half of the year, but nothing came close to crushing my poor little heart like the events that preceded this.

"Mother took me home tonight. I asked her to take a different route but still couldn't suppress the drives home with Ronnie Day and Ben Lee.

She always said there are some mistakes you can't learn from, sometimes you don't get a second chance. But I'm the stupid pidgeon, remember? Second chances still didn't quite cut it for me. Inevitably, it bit me back on the butt. Hard.

I just wanted to say sorry to everyone I'm not replying to.

Karen and Sibs, you better brace yourselves because you're going to be working with the mopiest mope tomorrow night. Don't worry, I won't skimp on the dusting." - 26.o8.o7

For someone who starts another semester of what has been claimed to be the most difficult year of Pharmacy, crazy posts that should have resulted in imprisonment for sarcasm abuse scare the pants off me (if I was wearing any. Hee hee!).

"Hi guys! I'm in PSPC. How awesome is it? There are little vials of urine all around the lab, and after escaping the horrendous fate of being a test subject I've just spent the last fifteen minutes painstakingly drawing a diagram of the distal and proximal tubules of the kidney!

Oh guess what? I have just been pressured into volunteering to collect data! So when the boys come back, I will need them to divulge to me information that I would rather not know, such as just how many miligrams of sodium is present in their urine. Fun fun!

If you can't detect my sarcasm, you deserve to drink the waste bucket." - 31.o8.o7

I miss House. I thought I'd include this because it made water come out of my nose.

"I love Cuddy.

Cuddy: You killed Foreman's job interview.Wilson: Why would I—
Cuddy: Somebody did. Wasn't me and it wasn't House, which means it has to be somebody who thought he was protecting House, which means it has to be somebody who actually likes House, which means it's either you or the weird night janitor who wears his pants backwards."" - 21.o9.o7

Final days at Alpha. In comparison, Greenwood is a dream job beyond dreams. I hold no grudges against Alpha staff, mainly because on reflection, the manner in which I handled the resignation was unprofessional and barely excusable. Nevertheless I reminisce about the year I spent there and grin uncontrollably upon realising I shall visit it no more. Strangely, I briefly contemplated paying Yasser and David a visit, for old time's sake. Then I read a post in which I described being appointed (by Yasser) the scapegoat for all of Sevil's mistakes. I threw the idea down the toilet.

"This is remarkably similar to the stage of a break-up where every conscious thought follows the pattern of "I'll never ___insert action___ again". I think of the scruffy carpet, the overflowing bins, the dusting roster, the Caramello Koala wrapper that always finds its way to the floor in front of the back register. The incessant beeping of the entry buzzer as non-English-speaker after non-English speaker flock in asking for discounts and checking expiry dates. No more. The thought gives me immense pleasure." - 31.1o.o7

"As I made my way out of the pharmacy for what I sincerely hoped would be the last time, the prissy little bitch turned up her nose. Joke's on you, honey. Have fun being an Alpha girl until your breasts sag over your name badge." - 30.1o.o7

My first meeting with Eugene at Kirribilli. For the record, he is 26 and hardly "recently registered". It also appears as though he has given up on guitar and devotes his Sunday shift watching Jack Johnson covers on Youtube.

"The Sunday pharmacist is a young, recently registered guy by the name of Eugene. He remarked that I was overdressed and upon seeing me tend to the cough section as soon as I walked into the pharmacy informed me that meticulous straightening of shelf-products was quite unnecessary here. A few things before I start. Sundays are quiet, best to bring a book or DS to kill time (or a guitar, as Eugene prefers), the shopfront is immaculately organised hence dusting is rarely required, knock yourself out with the internet. Do I dare believe what I'm hearing?" - 28.10.o7

Jez babe? Was this the last time you were sick?

"Jez has been sick since last night. We don't know what triggered it but coloured sputum and moderate fever are indicative of bacterial infection and there seems to be no thermometer or amoxycillin in the house. He doesn't seem intent on visiting the doctor and I really don't have the heart to poke him awake again." - 27.1o.o7

Leading up to something sinister was this ... Probably one of the more depressing conversations we've shared. The gloomy prospect of "working for the relationship" didn't hold for long, thankfully.

"We had a talk last night. Realised that we've moved on from the honeymoon, and some degree of effort is now necessary to make things work. Admittedly I was completely put out by the fact that my idealistic little romance bubble had finally burst. But it isn't unexpected. Just reality. No it can't always be kisses hugs and beautiful words. I heart Ne-yo. I know Jez does too. Admit it. Deep on the inside you love those dero claps." - 26.11.o7

Apart from yelling out "PEGGET!" when handing out medicine belonging to Peggy Burnett, I remember this particular blunder and snorted.

"A rather embarrassing mistake was made when Rita was on her way out. Rita is a amiable 50-year-old woman who happens to be quite obese. As she said goodbye to John he wished her a happy Christmas and "don't eat too much chocolate". During the week, the staff at the pharmacy managed to polish off three large gift boxes of chocolate sea shells.

I spoke without thinking. "Haha, too late!"

I immediately facepalmed myself. Neither John nor Rita looked amused." - 21.12.o7

Why do I insinuate sick thoughts like these?

"She kept calling and calling. I refused to pick up and was prepared to face two erupting volcanoes when I walked into the house this afternoon, but to my surprise they were happily preparing for my dad's work dinner tonight and laughing as he showed me magic tricks he had picked up while in China. I'm thinking volcanoes of another kind might have been erupting while I was away." - 15.12.o7

Feels like it was just last week. Possibly the monotony of full-time work has compromised my concept of time. In another way it's also distant. So much has happened yet I feel as if for years and years I've been the same as I am now - a tired, smitten girl who wakes up for work at 6:00, 6:30, 7:00 and 7:30 every morning.