After the Sacking

 Today was supposed to look like this: 

• Get up
• Go to work
• Get a lot of work done before lunch
• Go to the supermarket and chemist at lunch, getting a walk in
• Do a lot more work after lunch
• Sign off work computer somewhere around 5.30
• Do an online stretch and high intensity class online at 6.30
• Get some personal paperwork done tonight

But this was before the sacking. 

Just to put things to rest, it wasn't my sacking. All is well in jobland for me. 

But my colleague was let go from their contract. 

And yes, I can see reasons why this was done, but I don't like the way they went about it. 

Again, I won't go into details. It's not my story to tell. 

But the afternoon went from what looked fairly pleasant to something like this. 

• No walk to the supermarket and chemist. 
• No work done
• Spent most of the time having my colleague hand over their unfinished work
• Spent the rest of the time debriefing with my other team member
• I got out a beer at 4 pm to have a final drink with the departing colleague
• Then finally spoke to their one up at 5 pm - they were checking up to see I was okay (nice - and like, finally)
• Then finally got to go for a walk to the supermarket and chemist
• And missed my stretch class
• And to soothe the frayed nerves, I ate a lot of ice cream. 

There's nothing fun about a sacking - a firing, a letting go, a termination of a contract... what ever you call it. Well certainly not when they get rid of you - it's a bit different when the contract is over - this wasn't the case. Having been let go on a couple of occasions, I know what it feels like. It's not nice, no matter the circumstances. 

It's left me rather frazzled and writing has not been on tonight;s agenda. Instead, I've put on The Thomas Crown Affair (the Peirce Brosnan version), had another gin and tonic and will ponder the fallout that's going to happen over the next couple of days. I'm also trying not to think about the avalanche of crap that's about to come my way. 

Thank goodness for gin, ice cream and a younger Peirce Brosnan. 

Today's song:

The Dream Plan

I'm trying to look forward, but it's a bit hard. With all this COVID crap, the mason's books, the not being able to do anything other than wander around the banks of the Yarra and within the walls of my flat. I'm taking the chance to book myself a holiday in my head. 

Planning holidays is fun. Not that we can do that at the moment, but it is fun to plan these trips in my head, because heaven forbid, they might let us out of the country in a while. 

So, I'm looking at when this project is over - which may be anywhere between March and August of next year the way things are going. What am I going to do?

Well, in my head, I fly over to England. I'm well overdue a visit. 

And from there, after a few days in London, probably staying somewhere nice and Central to get reacquainted with the place. Maybe spend some time at my favourite old haunts. The National Gallery. The British Museum. Highgate Cemetery. Westminster Abbey. Postman's Park. 

Then it will be down to somewhere on the coast. In my heart of hearts, I wish I had a friend who could loan me their holiday house for a month. Somewhere in Cornwall would be lovely - Mousehole, Polperro, anywhere. I think the only things I really need are a big bathtub and WIFI - near the sea would be lovely. And I'd take up the offer of that holiday home and go there for a month and just write. Get some traction back on the novel. It would be good if the place was walking distance from a shop and a pub. And a big bath tub would be a great thing. 

But that's what I'd like to do. Just go away for a while. Write. Not have all the crap of work to think about. I have a month of holiday pay saved up - I just need to be able to get some time off and to be able to go away. Which is hard when you're locked down and under curfew orders.

I got sprung doing some daydream-planning today. On sharing my screen to my colleague I was looking at holiday rentals in Cornwall. 

We agreed that somewhere like this would be good - a little place looking over the sea. In another country. 

Of course, the cat will need to go stay with Aunty Blarney or Nanny (my Mum would love to have him back).

I'm using my daydreaming to get through some tensions at work. Thankfully it's not me causing the tension - I'm just stuck in the middle of it all and daydreaming is a good way to escape. 

This is what's keeping me sane. 

Today's song: 

Salvatore

 Add this to the anything to keep you amused in a pandemic file. 

Jay and I went on our normal weekend walk along the Yarra yesterday. Nothing unusual about that. It was a nice day. We got out for our walk before the rains came. We do this most weekends, weather permitting. 

As we got around the big bend in the river we saw a few people standing around having a look into the river with an rapturous look on their faces. 

What was it? 

A bloody seal. 

In the Yarra River - which is renown for being a muddy brown stretch of water which nobody and nothing would want to end up in.

But there, happily fishing for his lunch (yes there are some bloody big carp in the Yarra is appears) was Salvatore, who frollicked up and down a stretch of the river near IKEA for a while. 

We watched him for about 20 minutes as he swam around, bashed the crap out if his lunch and entertained the walkers along the river. 

From what I've been reading, Salvatore was rescued from nets in the Werribee River a few years ago. He was in a bad way, so they took him in, patched him up and let him back into the bay. Now, every so often, he can be seen in the local waterways, including the Yarra, where he makes it as far as Dight's Falls. 

He's also a big, smelly bugger. What they don't tell you about seals is that they STINK. Walking along the tow path, you could smell him before you saw him. Seals really don't smell very good at all  - all rotting fish and something else which hangs in the air for ages. 

Smell aside, it was the highlight of the weekend. Despite his overexuberant bashing of the fish he found, I would have watched him for a lot longer. 

It's the little things in the pandemic which get you through. 

Today's song: 

Sunday Stealing: Nearly 1000 questions Part II

 Another weekend in lockdown. The washing has been brought in before the rain comes. I've been for a walk. I've made coffee ice cream (Nigella Lawson's no-churn coffee ice cream is the best). That's about as good as it gets here at the moment. 

Questions, as usual, come from Bev at Sunday Stealing. 

 1. Who do you take for granted?

I try not to take anybody for granted, but I know I do sort of take Blarney and Barney this way as they feed me and let me cuddle their cats once a week. I do bring over dinner sometimes to give back a bit. 

2. Short, knee, or ankle skirts? (if a man, have you ever worn kilts?)

Knee skirts and longer skirts for me. I have some above the knee dresses and skirts but they're not too short. Too old for that sort of thing. 

3. Do you wear a hat?

Sometimes. When I'm out walking I often wear a baseball cap (New York Yankees or a Boston Redsox cap - depends on the day).  And I'll wear my Crows beanie to the football. But that's it. I look good in hats, but other than when I'm out walking and it keeps my hair in check, or if I want shelter from he sun, that's all I wear hats for. I have a face that looks good in hats. 

4. Who's your favorite cartoon character?

That would be a toss up between Jessica Rabbit, Chuckie from Rugrats and Hong Kong Phooey - they're all great. 

5. Does break dancing impress you?

Yes and no. It's very athletic. Surely it's soon to be an Olympic sport soon (if it isn't already). 

6. Are you a miracle?

An everyday miracle. I mean, fifty odd years ago a sperm and an egg got together and created me. If it was another sperm, I might not be me. I see this as an everyday miracle. Just is. 

7. Have you ever eaten tofu?

Hell yeah. Tofu, when done well, is amazing. The silken tofu at Red Spice Road was incredible. Any sort of silken tofu with a spice sauce is great. It's great when it is done well. 

8. Does the moon have an effect on your mood?

Yes. I have a Moon in Cancer and a Capricorn rising, both moon driven zodiac signs. So you. And I howl at the full moon. It's great fun. 

9. Many people will say that the Harry Potter books are pure fluff with no literary value. Do you agree?

No, I think Harry Potter is wonderful and it has a lot of brilliant values along with a vivid imagination. All good stuff. Yes, some of the writing is a bit twee, but the ideas and the world Rowling has created is extraordinary. 

10. What are you doing next Wednesday?

Well, we'll be still in lockdown, so next Wednesday I'll be going to work (read change out of my pyjamas into something like jeans and a top and walking into my living room), and maybe I'll do a stretch class and if I'm really lucky, my writing group might be meeting up. But that is about it. Lockdown means that the options are very, very limited. 

11. Why do so many people think Elvis is still alive?

I have no idea. Wishful thinking? They're idiots? Mind you, if he was alive, Elvis would be 86 now. With his unhealthy lifestyle it would be pretty doubtful he's be here, and if he was, he wouldn't be very healthy. I say let him rest in peace. 

12. Are your hands cold?

 No. I have warm hands. Because I practice reiki, they're even warmer and can supercharge really easily. But my circulation is really good.           

13. Have you ever given blood?

Yes. I used to give blood regularly. But the rules in Australia are strick. If you've lived in England between 1980 and 1996 for more than six months, you cannot give blood. I was there from 1991-1999. According to the blood bank website, they are in the process of looking at changing this ruling. Once that happens, I'll be back giving blood. It's too important. 

14. What SCI-fi books do you read?

I don't really read science fiction - the best I do is literary science fiction by authors like Margaret Atwood, Kazou Ishiguro and David Mitchell. It's not really a genre that interests me. 

15. Have you ever belonged to a sorority or a fraternity?

No. It's not something we have attached to the university system over here in Australia. It really is an American thing. 

Today's song: 

Nigella's No-Churn Coffee Ice Cream

You get to have some treats when you're in lockdown. This weekend, my treat is Nigella Lawson's no-churn coffee ice cream. 

I don't make it often. It's too evil and lethal. 

And so easy.

All it takes is a 300 ml pot of double cream, 2/3rds of a tin of condensed milk, two tablespoons of coffee powder (unfortunately I'm using Moccona - better than International Roast) and two tablespoons of coffee liqeur, of which I am using Mr Blacks ambrosial stuff which makes everything in he world wonderful. 

You beat it like a red headed stepchild until it forms soft peaks. You shove it in a container, then freeze it for a couple of hours. 

Utter, utter bliss. 

And there's a third of a can of sweetened condensed milk in the fridge to enjoy in what ever way in the next few days. 

Regardless, I'm quite content now. New Lucifer episodes, coffee ice cream, washing drying on the line. The Master's Apprentices for song of the day.  What more do you need? 

Today's song: 

Stretch class

 The exercise class happens online a couple of times a week. It's great. You get to meet lovely people and exercise in the comfort of your lounge room. I was put onto Move Culture by Fern my normal Sunday morning pump instructor, who makes a guest appearance teaching online. She does a mean foam roller session. 

Anyway, Fern was teaching the stretch class the other night. 

Dutifully, I turned up a couple of minutes to class, set out my yoga mat and got warmed up while the class preamble took place. 

Fern then made the comment that the light's class was going to be concentrating on leg openers.

I couldn't help it. Flicking on my mike, I had to give a comeback. 

"I thought that was what beer was for," was my reply. 

Boom boom. 

I got on with the class with a smirk. 

Right, back to the new episodes of Lucifer. 

Today's song: 

The Lehenga

Finally, I've got it onto Facebook marketplace. 

The bloody lehenga. 

Lehenga? Indian wedding garb. A top, quite fitted, a very long skirt and a long scarf, also known as a dupatta.  It was bought in West Footscray for around $400 two years ago and worn once to Raj's wedding in New Delhi. And it's been sitting in the cupboard since I got back form India. Time for it to go. 

I bought the outfit for Raj's wedding. I think I spent more on that wedding clothing than I have ever spent on clothing in one sitting. The salwar kameez, which was bought on the same trip I like more. It's more me. Pyjama bottoms and a long tunic in a gorgeous midnight blue. I'm keeping that. But I'd like to be rid of the lehenga. I'm hoping Facebook Marketplace will help it find a new home. 

I've got many feelings about this outfit. To be honest, I really didn't like it, even though it's in my colours. And I didn't really feel comfortable wearing it. I'm not one for ostentatious dressing. I really hate fitted clothing at the best of times. The dupatta fell off my shoulders, as everything falls off my shoulders - cardigans being the main thing, but spaghetti straps often go south too. The fitting was fun. I don't like having fittings either. And being told I should have the top low cut with some of my midriff showing  and it should be tight. This didn't sit well with me. I also wanted it so that I could do it up by myself. It never hit me how much time and effort goes into being an Indian woman until I went to that wedding. We spent the afternoon getting ready. The hair, the make up, having somebody dress the dupatta, which took a lot of time and a lot of safety pins. And I wasn't wearing a saree - which took even more time - and heaven knows how you're going to go to the toilet in one of those things.

Regardless, I felt awful wearing this this. (The other outfit made me feel great.)

But it was fairly comfortable to wear, even if the skirt was very long. I love the scarf. I wish I could keep that, but again, where would I wear it. I think it's the skirt I don't like. The gold around my waist. Anything which draws attention to my waist should not be there. But when you're dressing for something you've never been to before, it's going to be a strange thing. 

Then getting to the wedding and finding everybody in gorgeous, muted colours. I just felt wrong.

I wore Western dress to the cocktail party the night before the wedding. I was more comfortable then. A little blue number. Easy. Though I was one of the few people wearing Western dress. Raj said he was wearing a suit. I followed his lead, much to the mother of the bride's disdain. I turned up to the turmeric ceremony in Western casual - my normal Melbourne black. The bride's mum had a bit to say about this as well. 

Some said I should have waited and bought the outfit in India when I got there. But I really didn't have the time. Or the knowledge of the town - and Delhi is a hard place to navigate at the best of times. 

I also had bangles to go with it - an arm full of bangles. They got sold off a the Camberwell Market. 

Anyway, with a bit of luck, the lehenga will find a new home. I am releasing it with love.

And if anybody wants it, I'm selling it for $60. Give me a bell. Would fit somebody between a size 18 and 22. It's been worn once and is in great nick. Go on, you know you want to. 

Today's song: