Guess how many hours I worked yesterday/yesterday night/this morning? 13.15. That's 13 hours, 15 minutes.
IS THAT SHIT EVEN LEGAL?
I worked from 12.30pm yesterday afternoon to 1.45am this morning. Counting. Just counting. Do you know how many pens Officeworks has? Or the folders? The folders are what really killed me. Aisle five, just endless stacks of folders. Not the chunky binder type folders that are easy to count. I mean the flimsy little slimpick wallets and the plastic presentation folders where even a small stack is like 100. Try being faced with a WHOLE ROW OF HUGE STACKS.
That being said, the fact that we were able to count pretty much everything is amazing. When I left, they were still working. I was one of the last of the "junior/casual/part-time" staff to leave because I'm obviously a boss. Z left because she doesn't drive and said her mum was coming to pick her up at 10pm. I said I'd give her a lift home. She told me to be quiet.
R and his boob buddy, K, left about 1am because they both had to work again at 8am THAT SAME MORNING.
So, why was this experience a triumph of the human spirit? First of all, I didn't think I could work 13.15 hours straight (except for a half hour break) but I did. Second of all, I didn't think I'd be able to spend so much time counting (said in Little Mishelle voice) but I did. Third of all, I clearly thrust myself so much into completing the task that I was literally rolling around on the floor, fishing crap out from underneath the shelves and in between the shelves. I was sitting on the filthy, disgusting, public floor ground because I was so tired of bending over (ruh roh) and counting packets of sharpeners. I lost every last shred of human dignity (but gained human spirit in the process, faced with this massive adversity) and handed it over to Officeworks.
Back to R. Obviously. I think a few noteworthy occurrences occurred that are worthy of note.
Firstly, I was walking through the middle of the store, back from the toilet. It was around 12am at this point and I was kind of looking for him because I really needed a pick me up. He is like my coffee/drug. He heard me walking and turned around. I had already turned into another direction to go to my aisle... and then I looked back. He smiled and waved a peace sign.
Later, I was counting files in aisle five with another guy (Short, Slightly Grumpy Guy that I may or may not have thought was cute earlier but dismissed due to height discrepancies... and then found out he was kind of grumpy and unpleasant. But after last night, have since found out that he's super cool). We had so much left to count and R and K were done. So they come into aisle five to help us. I'm sitting on the ground (classy) with my back to them when they come in. I feel a pat on my back/shoulder and here a, "Sup bro." I turn around and R is kind of crouching/bending down near me. With his hand on my back. We are in close proximity. If I wasn't wearing a shirt, there would be skin-to-skin contact.
Note to self: must not wear shirt to next stocktake.
That's pretty much it. He sets fire to my rain, guys. Just seeing him makes me feel happy. That peace sign thing earlier? It made me smile for like 10 minutes straight. I probably wouldn't have been able to survive stocktake without the knowledge that he was in the same building.
I need to bitch slap myself.
J
About Me
- Junaberry
- I'm a student from Australia who used to have a lot of time on her hands but doesn't have that much anymore. Now she has other stuff on her hands.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Loose and Free Yoghurt
I had a pear Chobani with chopped almonds and cornflakes (haters to da left) this morning for breakfast. It was so delicious. I hate pears. This yoghurt tasted almost exactly like pears. It contained pears. It was still delicious. I demand that all future consumption of pears comes in yoghurt form.
This was after a sick 26.12 minute run in which I finally conquered a couple of hills. I have a fear of running up hills because I'm convinced that I'll be too tired after the hill to continue running and therefore my whole run will be ruined. I was very tired after the hill but then I pretended I was trying to keep up with some HG who was running with me. This gave me the energy to continue.
Around five minutes from home, I started getting a stitch. Like, "I think my caecum is trying to eat my appendix," kind of stitch. I said to myself, "Self, if you don't dominate this stitch then you can't call yourself... someone who dominates stitches." So I started sprinting home. The stitch got a lot worse. To relieve myself, I started rolling around on the wet grass as soon as I got home. The stitch went away. New cure for stitches. You're welcome.
I went on a new route because the other route was giving me Running Constipation. This is when running is like Being Constipated. Obviously, running should be loose and free. Thankfully, today's run was very loose and free.
I'm going to stocktake at work in a couple of hours. At stocktake, I will be spending close to 10 hours in the vicinity of R. Should I bring a condom just in case?
Some thoughts for you to ponder.
Over & out.
J
Friday, April 12, 2013
Leeroy Jenkins
This is giving me the feels:
In addition to being funny, it's giving me PTSD flashbacks to my World of Warcraft days (and I don't think I have shame about that anymore?). I used to get so scared when I played. In fact, whenever I play any computer game, back then and now, I get way too scared and basically want to stop playing. Because I think I'm going to die.
Hilary Duff once told me (personally), "Don't let the fear of striking out... stop you from playing the game."
Fortunately, I did not let the fear of striking out in WoW stop me from playing the game. Instead, I had this super dope thing I did where, whenever I was faced with an imminent threat that I didn't think I could get out of, I would teleport away. Every player in the game has this stone thing (I forget the name... I think it may be hearth stone) where you can teleport back to your hometown or whatever. Once you use this, you have to wait an hour to use it again.
But I, being a super cool druid (which, by the way, meant that I could change into a cheetah, bear, panther and moonkin... Obviously, now you have to look up what a moonkin is because it's obviously a dope thing because I could become one), had this special ability to be able to teleport to the Super Special Druid Land on command. It took a while for the spell to work though so you had to stand, vulnerable, for several seconds.
I used to do this whenever I saw anyone scary from the enemy faction (THE HORDE. Okay, starting to feel the shame) approaching me. Except I would first root them to the ground with my other super awesome spell that... rooted them to the ground. Then I would spell myself away and would be fine.
I feel this was my most ingenious plan ever because I also like to imagine how pissed off that other person would be at me just running away whenever anyone got close to me.
My other ingenious plan in the grand scheme of WoW is this. In my super dope panther form, I could turn invisible. If someone else was a much higher level than me, they could kind of make out my form (like a ghost). So, if anyone scary approached me, I would turn into my invisible panther then sit in a bush, hoping the leaves would disguise me.
THIS IS BASICALLY HOW I LIVE MY LIFE NOW. I turn invisible then hide. And sometimes I wish I could teleport away.
In conclusion, this is maybe the nerdiest and most shameful of all my blog posts in the history of my blog(s).
You're welcome.
J
In addition to being funny, it's giving me PTSD flashbacks to my World of Warcraft days (and I don't think I have shame about that anymore?). I used to get so scared when I played. In fact, whenever I play any computer game, back then and now, I get way too scared and basically want to stop playing. Because I think I'm going to die.
Hilary Duff once told me (personally), "Don't let the fear of striking out... stop you from playing the game."
Fortunately, I did not let the fear of striking out in WoW stop me from playing the game. Instead, I had this super dope thing I did where, whenever I was faced with an imminent threat that I didn't think I could get out of, I would teleport away. Every player in the game has this stone thing (I forget the name... I think it may be hearth stone) where you can teleport back to your hometown or whatever. Once you use this, you have to wait an hour to use it again.
But I, being a super cool druid (which, by the way, meant that I could change into a cheetah, bear, panther and moonkin... Obviously, now you have to look up what a moonkin is because it's obviously a dope thing because I could become one), had this special ability to be able to teleport to the Super Special Druid Land on command. It took a while for the spell to work though so you had to stand, vulnerable, for several seconds.
I used to do this whenever I saw anyone scary from the enemy faction (THE HORDE. Okay, starting to feel the shame) approaching me. Except I would first root them to the ground with my other super awesome spell that... rooted them to the ground. Then I would spell myself away and would be fine.
I feel this was my most ingenious plan ever because I also like to imagine how pissed off that other person would be at me just running away whenever anyone got close to me.
My other ingenious plan in the grand scheme of WoW is this. In my super dope panther form, I could turn invisible. If someone else was a much higher level than me, they could kind of make out my form (like a ghost). So, if anyone scary approached me, I would turn into my invisible panther then sit in a bush, hoping the leaves would disguise me.
THIS IS BASICALLY HOW I LIVE MY LIFE NOW. I turn invisible then hide. And sometimes I wish I could teleport away.
In conclusion, this is maybe the nerdiest and most shameful of all my blog posts in the history of my blog(s).
You're welcome.
J
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Saturday, April 6, 2013
I Watched, I Let It Burn
I just had the best day at work. I stood around and talked nonsense with the POS girls and then, during my break, I walked in and found R indulging in a Hungry Jacks sundae. We talked for yonkers and it was so comfortable and amazing.
We talked about medicine, his trip to Japan, his niece (my ovaries were busting. He's so enamoured by his niece), all this great stuff. He's so wonderful. For most of the time, it was just him and I in there and it didn't really feel awkward at any point. We did talk about how he used to work at Dominos in Northbridge with this Russian backpacker girl that he thought was hot and tried to put the moves on... And then he winked seedily at me. In a jokey way because I said, "So, did you try to hit on her?" or something like that. And he winked. Winked. He winked. Wink wink winked.
There was a point near the start of my break where he was coming out of the side office while I sat on the couch. He kind of stopped mid-step when he saw me and my heart leaped out of my chest.
"This is it. This is it," I thought to myself because, while trying to April Fools you guys, I managed to April Fools myself into thinking it would happen this week (as I do to myself every week).
But no, he didn't say to me, "I want you so bad." Instead he said, "Do you dance?"
"Do I dance?" I said, this huge smile I reserve primarily for R (and a select few others) creeping onto my face. "Um, sometimes. Why?"
"Because I'm getting K to teach me to dance. He's like the top in the state for something or other," he said. I started laughing and then we talked about dancing for a while.
I couldn't stop smiling. I sat on the couch and he sat on this chair in front of me. Facing me. Just a few meters apart. I was leaning forwards. He was leaning forwards. I don't know why but, whenever I have these one-on-one discussions with him, it always feel so freaking intimate and amazing. Or maybe I'm imagining things. But I love it. I love talking to him. I love seeing him smile. I love that he starts conversation with these random things.
In the words of Icona Pop, "I DON'T CARE. I LOVE IT."
J
We talked about medicine, his trip to Japan, his niece (my ovaries were busting. He's so enamoured by his niece), all this great stuff. He's so wonderful. For most of the time, it was just him and I in there and it didn't really feel awkward at any point. We did talk about how he used to work at Dominos in Northbridge with this Russian backpacker girl that he thought was hot and tried to put the moves on... And then he winked seedily at me. In a jokey way because I said, "So, did you try to hit on her?" or something like that. And he winked. Winked. He winked. Wink wink winked.
There was a point near the start of my break where he was coming out of the side office while I sat on the couch. He kind of stopped mid-step when he saw me and my heart leaped out of my chest.
"This is it. This is it," I thought to myself because, while trying to April Fools you guys, I managed to April Fools myself into thinking it would happen this week (as I do to myself every week).
But no, he didn't say to me, "I want you so bad." Instead he said, "Do you dance?"
"Do I dance?" I said, this huge smile I reserve primarily for R (and a select few others) creeping onto my face. "Um, sometimes. Why?"
"Because I'm getting K to teach me to dance. He's like the top in the state for something or other," he said. I started laughing and then we talked about dancing for a while.
I couldn't stop smiling. I sat on the couch and he sat on this chair in front of me. Facing me. Just a few meters apart. I was leaning forwards. He was leaning forwards. I don't know why but, whenever I have these one-on-one discussions with him, it always feel so freaking intimate and amazing. Or maybe I'm imagining things. But I love it. I love talking to him. I love seeing him smile. I love that he starts conversation with these random things.
In the words of Icona Pop, "I DON'T CARE. I LOVE IT."
J
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Monday, April 1, 2013
21.09
I just wanted to say that I ran for 21.09 minutes straight this morning. This is not impressive for many but that is the longest I've ever run without stopping in my entire life. Before today, the longest I'd ever run was eight minutes. And that was Thursday.
I didn't believe it was possible.
J
I didn't believe it was possible.
J
This Shit Is Bananas
This is fucking insane.
I got a call this morning from work that they wanted me to work this afternoon because one of the girls called in sick. I agreed because it's a public holiday which means I get like a billion dollars per hour. As you know, I'm of the cheap variety so this monetary incentive appealed to me greatly.
I went into work at 12pm. It was all cool. I ended up seeing J-Dawg (which is this hip name I made for one of the tech girls who is so insanely quiet most of the time) who I rarely see because I only ever work one day a week.
EXCEPT FOR TODAY. I feel like God just got out his Junaberry Chess Board of Life and decided to yank out some jank as hell move for fun.
The day is going smoothly. There's no R to distract/arouse me. But that's okay; I said it's probably good for me to take a break from him before. It was pretty chill because no one really needs stationery after February.
I get a 15 minute break around 3pm and go to get my phone from my bag (plus muesli bar because I live for that shit). I take my bag out... Underneath...
Holy fuck. I think I had this fantasy about 500 times in my head. I was living a dream inside my head. It went something like this:
The girl goes to her locker. It's mid-afternoon. She has been staring across the shop at R for several hours. To the point that her heart hurts, her head hurts and she's accidentally ignored seven customers.
She opens her locker, fingers hungrily searching for the food she knows she has stored in her bag...
Hold on. Slid into the corner of the locker... a white envelope. She takes it out. Her name written on the front. Her breath catches in her throat. She puts the envelope in her bag and brings it with her to the bathroom.
She needs privacy. Doesn't know if she'll laugh, scream or cry. The heart palpitations are getting worse. Is she having a panic attack? She doesn't know.
There, safely locked in a cubicle, away from prying eyes, away from a cold and cruel world, she opens the envelope.
"Hey," it says. "I just met you and this is crazy. But here's my number (0000 000 000) so call me maybe. R."
Holy fuck.
Holy fuck, guys. Holy fuck.
It fucking happened. A lot like the above fantasy except it wasn't an envelope; it was a bit of paper. And it wasn't lyrics from one of my favourite songs of all time.
It said:
I like you. Let's talk. R.
My heart fucking stopped. It's still not beating. I've been smiling for so many hours that my cheeks hurt. Thank God he wasn't working today because I don't know if I could have handled that. I don't know what I would have done.
At least now I have time to make up a new fantasy in my head that involves me sidling up to him at some point and saying something super slick and sexy.
I think this is the best day of my life thus far.
WHAT DO I SAY TO HIM WHEN I SEE HIM NEXT?
(Scroll down)
J
I got a call this morning from work that they wanted me to work this afternoon because one of the girls called in sick. I agreed because it's a public holiday which means I get like a billion dollars per hour. As you know, I'm of the cheap variety so this monetary incentive appealed to me greatly.
I went into work at 12pm. It was all cool. I ended up seeing J-Dawg (which is this hip name I made for one of the tech girls who is so insanely quiet most of the time) who I rarely see because I only ever work one day a week.
EXCEPT FOR TODAY. I feel like God just got out his Junaberry Chess Board of Life and decided to yank out some jank as hell move for fun.
The day is going smoothly. There's no R to distract/arouse me. But that's okay; I said it's probably good for me to take a break from him before. It was pretty chill because no one really needs stationery after February.
I get a 15 minute break around 3pm and go to get my phone from my bag (plus muesli bar because I live for that shit). I take my bag out... Underneath...
Holy fuck. I think I had this fantasy about 500 times in my head. I was living a dream inside my head. It went something like this:
The girl goes to her locker. It's mid-afternoon. She has been staring across the shop at R for several hours. To the point that her heart hurts, her head hurts and she's accidentally ignored seven customers.
She opens her locker, fingers hungrily searching for the food she knows she has stored in her bag...
Hold on. Slid into the corner of the locker... a white envelope. She takes it out. Her name written on the front. Her breath catches in her throat. She puts the envelope in her bag and brings it with her to the bathroom.
She needs privacy. Doesn't know if she'll laugh, scream or cry. The heart palpitations are getting worse. Is she having a panic attack? She doesn't know.
There, safely locked in a cubicle, away from prying eyes, away from a cold and cruel world, she opens the envelope.
"Hey," it says. "I just met you and this is crazy. But here's my number (0000 000 000) so call me maybe. R."
Holy fuck.
Holy fuck, guys. Holy fuck.
It fucking happened. A lot like the above fantasy except it wasn't an envelope; it was a bit of paper. And it wasn't lyrics from one of my favourite songs of all time.
It said:
I like you. Let's talk. R.
My heart fucking stopped. It's still not beating. I've been smiling for so many hours that my cheeks hurt. Thank God he wasn't working today because I don't know if I could have handled that. I don't know what I would have done.
At least now I have time to make up a new fantasy in my head that involves me sidling up to him at some point and saying something super slick and sexy.
I think this is the best day of my life thus far.
WHAT DO I SAY TO HIM WHEN I SEE HIM NEXT?
(Scroll down)
J
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