As I sit here in my freezing cold office at my gloomy desk in the morgue (my nickname for this shithole) I decided to write my next entry. What else is there to do right?
Saturday night with the bestie was appalling and amazing all in one go. The night started out with a plan of having a few quiet drinks (never happens) while getting ready at Nicoles, making an appearance at our friend’s welcome back gathering and watch the rugby. Well the first part went to plan nicely, after destroying a bottle of bubbles and ensuring our faces were painted we hauled our pretty asses to the Cav. I am not sure at what point everything went downhill and my memory leaves a lot to be desired –thanks booze. But here are some of the highlights:
* Pas and Nicole in tears on the smokers deck having a deep and meaningful about our long-time friendship and clearing the air over mini grievances we have had over the years.
* Nicole sexy dancing with an 80 year old man wearing a cheese cutter hat,
* Pascale not sexy dancing but attempting to do the white woman shuffle with the same 80 year old man…video footage of this has since surfaced too thanks Nicole.
* Nicole and Pas cutting up the dance floor in a bar in Ponsonby (note there was no dancefloor)
We hit the whiskey bar like a hurricane hits a town and our quiet night was now a distant memory, we danced, flirted, insulted and met a class A psychopath –quite possibly Bad Boy Bubby’s doppelganger who upon introducing himself to us followed that with “Don’t worry it is not my intention to steal from you” uhhh great opening line buddy, I feel so safe right now. Luckily or unluckily for us his weird friend showed up to keep him distracted which worked for a while until she started showering us with attention and telling us how beautiful we were – clearly the drunk, bleary eyed , wino look we were sporting is appealing to some people… We made it home in a drunken blitz, Nicole’s lovely Boyfriend drove us home and apparently took us to Macdonalds for food too. I gather this is the case as I was rifling through my bag the next morning and I came across the masticated remains of a quarter of a cheeseburger.
The hangover was brutal; I went for a run to sweat it out of my system and had to stop twice in the middle of it to swallow back down my own vomit. Classy bitch. Leap forward to Tuesday and I have no voice and am still feeling like I was fucked by a freight train.
In other non-alcoholic news I landed the break I have been working my ass off for…I was offered the position of International Marketing Manager for a college in Auckland, , amazing perks, overseas travel, work friends, and an actual company culture – no more being Ssshed for using my voice in the office. To say I am excited doesn’t quite cut it, I am relieved and nervous and overjoyed – I feel like I can now provide the life for my son that he deserves. See ya later struggle street , how the fuck are ya head above water land !
So I was faced with the inevitably terrifying task of resigning – yes terrifying – I have authority issues ok. I don’t like confrontation in the office place and my boss is an incredible fuckwit of astounding proportions so I knew this would suck big time. I walked said awesome guy into the conference room and laid it straight to him – I was met with a glare and then he turned away from me which made me panic and start babbling shit about how grateful I was for the opportunity and how I would still work my ass off for the company yadda yadda ha the dickhead finally responds with a grunt and a “well ill have a think about how to handle this”! What ? I resigned, there is no way to handle it other than suck it up and move on. So now every day for the next four weeks means I get to be ignored by my boss and grunted at on the occasion he does deem me worthy of acknowledgement.