Day Thirty

"Hundreds were evacuated at Sydney University this morning after a bottle of acid with the 'potential to be explosive' was found.

NSW Fire Brigades hazardous materials specialists assessed the risk after a bottle containing perchloric acid was found 'fuming' in the pharmacy building on Friday." - SMH

Read the rest here.

I didn't have dispensing this afternoon therefore didn't stick around to be kicked out of the lab, but how interestings.

I had only the two-hour dispensing lecture this morning, and won the struggle against sleep. Not much to gloat about since it's only the first day, but we'll see.

Work was somehow duller than usual, with the exception of another row between Harsha and Freda. If it wasn't for the fact that Freida's cousin had passed away this morning and I cringed on her behalf for having to put up with Harsha's yelling, I would have been grateful for the entertainment.

The phone has been ringing continuously since before I arrived, most of the callers being Freda's family and friends either sending their condolances or needing comfort. Freda looked constantly on the verge of tears, and I felt completely helpless and frustrated with myself for not knowing what to say or do. When I came to work sobbing two days after breaking up with Jez, she hugged me and made me tea and made it all feel so natural. I put my arm around her awkwardly. As expected, the gesture made her eyes more teary, and I looked away.

A little after midday Harsha was found arguing with a customer at the cosmetics stands. The story was that the woman had bought two discounted giftpacks of Dr. LeWinn's skincare products in April, and wanted to return one of them because she claimed to have experienced skin reactions. The problem was that she had already used up half of the contents, and that April was several months ago.

Harsha was naturally adamant on refusing refund. The woman was rude enough to point the finger at everyone she could, blaming Glenda for "forcing" her to buy the products, which was obviously ridiculous since none of us ever remember Glenda holding a knife over the woman's throat instructing her to sign her EFTPOS receipt.

The argument dragged on for some time before the woman demanded to speak to the manager. John was busy fixing Kirribilli's dysfunctional computers and the only available staff that outranked Harsha was Freda, who in my opinion doesn't really outrank her at all. Harsha was all for kicking the woman out of the store, but since she looked like she'd rather eat mascara than leave, Freda took on a different strategy. She took back the products and receipts without giving a refund, and assured the woman she'll call the Dr. LeWinn's rep as quality issues is their responsibility. After confirming that we'll call her as soon as we could, the woman left.

In my honest opinion Freda handled the situation quite well, but my opinion (or anyone else's) doesn't mean a bean when Harsha makes up her mind that Freda went about it completely wrong. I stood awkwardly on the side as the two of them bickered, finally running off to stand behind the front register with Glenda, who like me, agrees with Freda and who like me, knows that it was completely futile to try to convince Harsha of that fact.

The atmosphere became frosty after that. In addition to the bloody abysmal weather there wasn't much incentive to stay. On a sudden impulse to read up on steroid hormones I announced that I was leaving at 5:00.

I fell deeply asleep on the train and dreamt of Jez. He wore a disgusting red flannel shirt. We were somewhere sunny. He closed his eyes and leaned over to kiss me. I kept my eyes open. His nose almost touched mine when I jerked awake. It was Lidcombe, and I realised with a stab of annoyance that I had forgotten to bring keys, and that it was much too early for either of my parents to be anywhere near home.

Once I stepped off the train the cold started to eat me. I decided to seek refuge in the deli while my parents made their way home, but it was closed. There were two options - sit at the station and freeze, or walk home. I walked as fast as I could, knowing that there was no point because once I reach a stop in front of my house, the cold will start to eat me again. The wind picked up as I turned a corner, and I could feel neither my feet inside my ballet flats nor my ears which thanks to my stupid choice of hairstyle were overexposed. There was a car parked smack across the middle of the footpath. I visualised what I wanted to do to it and acknowledged an additional downfall of forgetting my keys. My teeth started chattering. I coughed. A dog somewhere barked in return.

I stood on the front porch with my DS. Cid blasted someone with a flameball and I wished I was on the receiving end of it.