Monday, 30 March 2009


No, no, no! That can’t be right. My star sign said today, and I quote, “There may be a little surprise of a professional nature that could change your plans.” (Plans?) I thought it meant I’d finally get an email saying yes come back to work in the television industry. We love you and missed you terribly. (Nope). Emphasis on “may” I guess. (That’s how they get you!) When I got to work I was surprised to find my security pass wasn’t working. Apparently my temporary time had elapsed. It’s funny, I knew it was a temporary card but I never thought it would expire. Now I’m “Contract” and proper. How depressing! It’s silly but when I was temporary there was some hope, you know? But as my boss pointed out I should never have been temporary in the first place.

Before going to PNG I broke my security pass. (I took that as a good sign). It almost snapped in half when I was changing the bags in one of the rubbish bins. How you may wonder. It was when I dropped one of the plastic bins back into the slot and it landed on the card. That’s one problem with wearing it around my neck. It dangles. Often dips into the toilet bowls. Good-o!

Perhaps I should seek my hope from somewhere else. I just like to read my horoscope from The Age when I’m online and checking other things. They really need a proof reader for them. I could do that. I found out recently my mum sometimes wrote the horoscopes when she worked for Niugini News. She was a proof reader and occasional sub editor. I thought that was cool. Pity she wasn’t able to continue with it.

Sunday, 29 March 2009

Weak End

I’ve had another long week at work. I covered for a day shift three times then went on to my shift.

The first time I went in was on Monday. Which was a bit disappointing for me because that was the day our friend from New York was going back home. I got to say goodbye in the morning but I had thought I was going to the airport too. It’s a bit embarrassing to admit but by 2 o’clock I was overwhelmed with sadness. I couldn’t stop crying. Not just because she had left but I think because I missed out on a lot of the visit being at work, and I also felt sad about not spending more time in PNG. It was sort of like getting a glimpse of an old life and then having it snatched away again. It really highlighted how crappy my life is. (Hooray!) In a lot of ways I feel cheated.

I had a drink or two - wasn’t exactly pouring out standard measures - to celebrate on Friday when it was finally over. I had too much gin and a headache most of Saturday. We went out to a friend’s place for dinner on Saturday night, that’s about the time my head felt better. But then I felt like a loser being surrounded by academics and refused to talk about my job when asked what I do. (Yeah not very mature but it does make me feel pathetic). My sister and I were there to talk about PNG. Apart from the fact that I was there for less than a fortnight and therefore didn’t have enough time to experience it properly I find it really hard to talk about it. I feel bad I don’t know more about it and my heritage. I did make the effort while I was there but the first time I talked about it back in Melbourne I felt like I hadn’t learnt anything.

I’ve been feeling like shit lately anyway but that night just brought on a new bout of depression.

Just thought I’d share that with you.

Thursday, 12 March 2009

Wednesday March 11 2009

I’ve just had the longest day of my life. So long it’s turned into tomorrow. I knew it would by the time I was able to write this.

Here’s how it started: While I was still in bed, (on Wednesday morning), I got a call from my boss asking if I could cover for someone who was sick. I said yes. I’d done it before and it had been all right. It was my first day back to work after my trip home to PNG* and I really wasn’t looking forward to it. Starting in the afternoon, as I normally do, would have meant having the whole day before me to resent the fact I had to go back to work. This way I just had to get up and get on with it.

* Maybe more on that later; loads of photos to show off.

I actually was meant to start on Tuesday. I was so pleased to get an extra day off from work! It was my mum’s birthday on the tenth and it was rather sad that I was going back to work that day and missing out on having dinner with her. It was so silly, well I think it was, getting that extra day off. My boss called the night before because she didn’t remember what day I started back. I told her it was Tuesday but then quickly added it was my mum’s birthday and could I have the day off to celebrate. (A bit impulsive for me). She was fine with it. Well she obviously would have my replacement on standby anyway. Still I thought it was very nice of her. My mum was so happy. They’re so cute sometimes.

What a way to go back to work. I did eleven and a half hours today. Two extra hours on my normal shift because there was so much to catch up on. It can’t be true, but it felt like they hadn’t done anything for the two weeks I was away. And they didn’t do any common courtesy things like rinsing the mop or emptying the vacuum cleaner at the end of their shift. It’s just rude. But then perhaps I could have done a better job when I was covering earlier in the day myself.

I was so tired but I kept working. Well you have to, right? It didn’t feel like I was going slower. Time felt like it was though. I was getting angry too. I knew I would have to work overtime and I decided to text my boss to let her know while at the same time asking if I’d get paid for the overtime. I don’t usually, which really shits me. It happened a lot when I first started. I always wrote it down when I signed out but I don’t think they actually read that when doing the pay.

The text I sent proves how tired I was. I’m not usually so blunt, especially in my defence. But why shouldn’t I get paid for the work I do? Let’s be realistic. It’s cleaning and sometimes it takes more time and effort. It would at least make it a bit fairer. That said I still hate my job and myself.

I think it’ll take me a little while to get back into the routine of work. Sometimes I can do the job on time or, better yet, in even less time. When those blissful days happen I don’t feel bad about leaving early because I have worked overtime often enough to make up the difference.

I had to write this now in case I feel more forgiving in the morning. I’ve had a shower and something to eat and already it doesn’t feel like such a big deal. Plus I finally got a reply to my text about overtime. My boss said yes. We’ll see though.