Virus Buster

I'm addicted to the only activity in Brain Training that doesn't actually train your brain.

Anyway, I showed up to work at 8:00 am this morning. I'm thinking people have an aversion to the young Asian pharmacist-wannabe who sits in the dispensary drinking strawberry tea and never wears her uniform, because there never seems to be any customers during my shifts, whereas on days I don't work Mirjana complains of being too busy.

In fact, it was so quiet today that by 12:00 pm we've only processed about 11 scripts. Just for your reference, at Alpha pharmacy the average number of scripts per day was around 300.

Nothing noteworthy happened except for Glenda showing off photos of her gob-smackingly good-looking children, and the brief but highly unwanted appearance of Smelly Man. I shall elaborate.

Smelly Man is a regular. He is tall, thin, in his 50's, has a bushy beard and always wears the same flannel shirt. Nothing remarkable, EXCEPT FOR THE SMELL. It is a highly disgusting mix of sweat, dirt, faeces and God-knows-what-else. I can honestly say that he emits the absolute worst smell my olfactory senses have ever had the misfortune of interpreting.

Usually he strolls around the store for about ten minutes. Half an hour after he leaves we'd still be holding perfumed napkins to our faces. Today he hovered around the front counter. Considering that our pharmacy is quite sizeable it was remarkable how the smell managed to penetrate even the dispensary.

Anyway, I left at around lunch-time torn between doing absolutely nothing at all and going to lectures. I picked up my skirt and lunch and walked around the plaza aimlessly trying to justify skipping more uni. Then when I realised it couldn't be justified I went to the lectures and slept through all of it.

Just because I felt like it, and because I don't know how many times Jez had told me about his school-girl fantasies, I wore my uniform. It was actually Strathfield Girls' uniform. I considered Fort St but if I could help it I'd rather not let maroon and blue touch me again.

It was actually quite troublesome to acquire. First of all I hadn't the slightest clue where you're supposed to buy uniform from outside school. Secondly, when I called Strathfield Girls' asking for stores that stock their uniform the woman at reception wanted to play twenty-questions. She asked when I was starting. I said it's for my little sister. I anticipated her asking for my imaginary sister's name, at which point I would have pretended to lose reception. But she didn't. Instead she asked why I couldn't buy it from school. I told her my sister shat all over her clothes and desperately needed new ones. Okay fine I didn't.

Anyway, the skirt was tragically long. So before I went to work on Monday I dropped it off at TLC to have it shortened. Same-day alterations my hat. I picked it up today and it was tragically short. Granted, I was the one who asked to have about 60% of the fabric snipped off, but I was banking on it still being long enough to hide my arse.

So I wore it tonight, feeling ridiculous that I was sitting at GJ's in a junior high-school student's clothes reading about anti-metabolites.

I bought Jez these funny sushi things that didn't taste like sushi at all. Then we went home.

There was once a time when I felt free to describe my sexual experiences at length. That ended when I discovered that my number of readers actually exceeds 2.