Yesterday, a broken automatic garage door started a chain of events that would test me to the limits, would push me both mentally and physically and would end in triumph.
The automatic garage door broke. Maybe assisted by Mr Woog? Anyway, it needed to be manually lifted and lowered which made me feel all Bulgarian Weightliftery. I took the Woogettes off to school, came home and manually lowered the door.
BANG!
It lowered so fast and hard and I heard something snap. Further investigations revealed that I had indeed jammed the motherfucker and despite all my weightliftery efforts, it remained steadfastly closed. No amount of grunting and swearing would make it budge.
I pondered what repercussions this may have on the rest of my day. And I thought, "She'll be right!"
I had a meeting with a company at 11am. A company who tentatively suggested they may like to work with me and this little blog of mine. The company is a big BIG company and had arranged a meeting which was to occur about 8 big city blocks away from where I live. So I thought I would just meander down when it was time.
I got stuck into faffing around the place and before I knew it, it was 10.40 and time to go. I slid on my Condom Dress, chucked on a shirt and an armful of bangles and finished it with a pair of leather thongs. I left the house, looked at the sky and ducked back inside to grab a brolly, such was the sky at the time.
I began walking. After a few minutes, I decided that the Condom Dress was fantastic for school runs, long lunches and lazing around in. But folks, it is not conducive to fast walking. I was going at about half my regular pace and looked like some largish Japanese Geisha shuffling down the Pacific Highway.
I looked at my watch. It was 10.53. I saw a bus stop up ahead. A lone old lady was standing there with no fewer than a dozen green recycling bags. She was clearly off to Aldi's to buy tinned stew, moth balls and no-frills digestive biscuits, you know... the sort of things that old people buy.
She had a total cat's bum face happening and it puckered further when I asked her how much the bus fare was. I grabbed in my bag for my purse and swore gently under my breath when I realised it was back at home, on my desk. I scrounged around the bottom of my bag, bypassing long forgotten half unwrapped tampons and an alarming amount of bag fluff and got together the fare in ten cent coins.
I was at that awkward situation. Should I stay and hope a bus comes along in the next 60 seconds or should I continue my shuffle. The rain started to gently fall at this stage so I took it as a sign to sit tight next to Mrs Ole-Worlde-Catbummouth and wait for the bus.
Precious minutes ticked by before bus came. I gladly scampered on and released my handful on coins only to be told this was a PRE-PAID ONLY BUS. I swear I saw the old lady smirk.
Channelling my inner Cliff Young, I got off that bus, flipped the old lady the bird through the window, put by head down and began a speedy shuffle.
Counting and breathing 1,2,3,4 1,2,3,4 1,2,3,4. I was getting slightly damp and very puffed. My chunky tree trunk legs were working overtime and each stride was harder than the last due to the confines of the dress. The rain caused my feet to slide around in the thongs as I began to play Human Frogger, crossing the 6 lanes of traffic. Red faced and puffed and wet and pissed off at the entire world, I reached my destination, met the team from the Big Company and it was all I could do not to vomit on the table.
I cannot tell you what the outcome of the meeting was because I myself do not know yet. But what made me REALLY think was that this blogging gig was going to have to pay off some time soon. I came to this conclusion when one of the suits started talking about how prospective employees are now contracting people out to investigate candidates "online presence" as part of the screening process. And it is posts, just like this one, that have rendered me basically un-employable in any traditional job.
And that was yesterday.
