Ha, today I got my comeuppance in the park. Since I walk faster than most folk, even on the ice, I have a recurring problem accidentally getting too close behind the person in front of me before I try to circle round them (traffic, pedestrians coming the other way, what have you). Sometimes, they get scared, so I try not to. However, I spend most of my waking life in a big daydream, so I often forget. So it was a massive jolt of terror when, on storming along, I heard this guy’s voice right in my ear. In the park, in the dark, and there was nobody behind me when I came in! Eek! He is Up To No Good! Everyone will say I had it coming for Being Female In A Park!
But he wasn’t, he was just that rare specimen who makes even better time than I do. Answering his mobile. Ha. And wasn’t he terrified back when I spun round and accidentally went into defensive stance. Oops. Oh well, a Thing has taken, what are the odds, but it was embarrassing nonetheless.
The thumb I sliced open last night looks much like that poster of Jaws, today. The big happy smile has tiny fangs in it and everything! I took great pride in showing everyone at work, for which I was rewarded with Germoline (‘don’t for the love of God touch the casenotes with that! You don’t know what you’ll catch!’)
And that all more than made up for having the bejeesus scared ot of me earlier, go figure. Every so often, I realise I have the mind of a ten-year-old. Which is disturbing until I remember that being ten was awesome; I was too young to worry about being ugly or unattractive (which didn’t start until the comments about being ugly and unattractive did – see! Massive egos would make it all better!) Now that I’m all grown-up and living on my own, I can have that over again, only now with the added freedom to make sweeties my dinner if I want, watch telly for as long as I want – and once again, I have nobody making nasty comments. It’s fab! Granted, I very rarely watch telly or have sweeties, now that I Can, but still.
Of course, it isn’t all roses – today is Hellday, after all. Par for the course, Dr Anonymous phoned several times to say that he’s fed up having to look up patient results on the computer all the time, and why the hell are they not in the notes, and is it not part of my job to make sure they are? (How, if I have neither the results nor the notes?)
Quick! Into the suit jacket, hair in bun, dive down to the clinic! If I am to be pulled up, I want to look ultra-professional while I’m about it! It’s psychologically helpful. And lo, the results weren’t on the system because they’re not verified yet, but the Principle, apparently, remains.
The upshot is, my job just got busier. I will now be checking every patient’s results on the system the day before clinic, so he doesn’t have to. Groan.
I am shocked to realise I am now on chapter six of folder one of module one of this correspondence course, which is the last chapter of the Static Systems part. Therefore, once I have procured and figured out this calculator, I shall be all set to start tackling Dynamic systems! Woo! Hopefully, Dynamic systems will not be so full of titles that make me snigger, like ‘Torsion in Circular Shafts’, ‘Theory of Bending’ and even simply ‘Columns’. Yeah, go me, I didn’t find this stuff snigger-worthy as a ten-year-old, and now I do. Perhaps, I am becoming a geek! Hurrah!
Today, my Cellmate kindly gave me a lift down the shopping centre to get this scientific calculator, woo! And I slid all over the ice all the way back, during which I got soaked to the bone by all the lorries coming the other way, hee, which was quite amusing as a one-off and at least a sign that the thaw is on its way. And a good thing too, because I woke up this morning and realised I have finally got sick of sliding everywhere and wondering if I’m going to die.
So! By half past five, I was in and getting warm and dry again and had The Calculator Of Large Numbers… only it doesn’t matter because the calculator still won’t teach me how to move things from one side of an equation to the other. Man, I’d forgotten how much I suck at that. I’ve worked out that if it was underneath on one side, then it goes on top at the other side, and vice versa, ‘you can’t go to the building next door without taking the lift’; but in these ones, there’s things like Pie Arr divided by Dee over three and I’m not sure how many floors D has to move in the next building at all. Methinks, online remedial maths lessons are needed before I make the leap to Dynamic Engineering Systems.
Instead, there was the writing of the Christmas cards and the eating of an entire bar of chocolate with nuts in. Over a thousand calories, woo, I think I broke even today! And finally, I do not have my stomach gnawing at me, as if to say, Doll, eating mainly vegetables is all very worthy, but do you realise it is double-figures of negative out there? These are empty nutrients!
And all was reasonably Splendid until I checked my email. Awww, my Chestnut-haired Old Mother’s bloke has sent me a rather handsome sum (of the cash variety) for Christmas, which he is nobly kidding on is for a copy of the Zombie Chronicles of Nonsense (hardback or email copy). How sweet!
Only problem is, there’s rather a lot of sex in the Zombie Chronicles of Nonsense. Eek. I had already made a mental note that if this ever gets published, it will be under a completely different name so nobody ever associates it with me. I do not need some idiot trying to drag me into the bushes on the grounds that if someone has written a vanilla BDSM scene between consenting adults, they’ll be personally up for being assaulted by any random passing stranger. It’s been only just six months since someone tried to use my attendance at fightclub – which teaches self-defence – as an excuse to try and assault me sexually! And there I fondly imagined I was too old for that sort of thing, go figure.
So now, I have the twin horns of a dilemma. I can’t return or knock back the gift, because that would be rude, and I don’t want the awkwardness associated with having me Mother’s bloke reading sex scenes wrote by Moi. On the other hand, they are several chapters in, he might well be put off by the colossal amount of swearing before that. On the first hand again, that’s hardly a plus point either. Ho hum. Social disaster beckons!
Thought for the day: woman with cat – crazy cat lady! Bloke with cat – Bond Villain. Pourquoi?