Camgymeriad Gwych

It's Friday afternoon. My boss has just made an error which has resulted in much flapping of arms and plenty of panic around the office. Cooler heads should prevail, but they don't. They never do. The girl with the mod haircut has solved the problem, pretty efficiently it must be said, but no 1ne is listening - the perils of temporary employment include the trouble of being dismissed as an after-thought when you've solved the problem. My boss has the conversational tick of adding a Y onto every word in an attempt to be jocular and matey. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not Bertrand Russell in my conversational voice, since too much exposure to football crowds and girls who play netball means I lapse into far too much casual swearing, but I do have a professional work voice when required. This particular conversation tick is wearing on me - sometimes we search for leadership in this office and are confronted with a repetitive comedy jocularity and faux sense of fun that can be jarring. Hold up an unfinished report and get a comedy pig and a wacky nickname in response and see how your mental state holds up...

I could be 1ne of those cooler heads if I could be bothered. I'm more worried about why my phone won't show me my e-mail quicker. Not that I get e-mail - comments from here and flashing e-mails from the NBA selling me shoes just about covers most of it - but it's nice to check. My phone isn't playing along though...yes, I will accept the CA certificate. For the 9nth time...I'm essentially checking out of habit really. I do a lot of things out of habit. I change my Fantasy NBA players obsessively, I do exactly 2kms on the treadmill, and I have toast regularly at set intervals. My parents are proud of being dull - they are truly the enemies of wacky and zany. My love of puppets disappoints them a little bit. I just find them hilarious. I never got into any of those "candid camera" style shows either...what has been interesting writing lately (nothing I hear you say) has been how often I've had realisations at my desk. Perhaps it's best to shut out the comedy pigs, stop eating the chocolate biscuits, and do some work, but sometimes it's good to listen to the little voice in my head as a way of killing some time...that little voice might be a little obsessed with popular culture and sport, but sometimes, it can be insightful...and it's either that or hear my name with a Y added on for 26th time today...

It was mid Friday and mid conversation I realised I'd never been genuinely heartbroken. The new girl at work apparently hates an ex boyfriend even more than the guy who let her down from the factory down the road. I think his jocular use of the phrase "daft cow" was taken the wrong way. As for the other boyfriend, he was dating her and then left her mid stream for another girl but didn't tell her for ages, just stopped calling. She saw them together at the Victoria Tavern, hopefully during their short lived "Coyote Ugly" theme nights. She was most upset - they had even got to the "luvved up" nickname phase of their relationship. I know this because his nickname was scrawled on a pen left lying around as both workplace and office detritus and she threw it in the bin. She was explaining the exact circumstances through which he transformed from lovable old "Chips" to having a swearword attached to every aspect of his character. I realised break ups have never have bothered me as much as that. Not even my current 1ne. Mind you, I never got a cute nickname either - Sarah used to call me "Snowy" on account of my white albino style early Beatles cut hair, but it never caught on. I called her Sarah. At least she had made the effort...

Relationships have never left me that upset - most of mine just ran their course. Sarah in Grade 2wo, she just didn't ring 1ne weekend. We last met outside a milk bar where I was too immature and too busy trying to find a Bryan Taylor footy card to reciprocate her excellent listening skills. I'm Catholic, we're hard on ourselves. Debbie? We simply had too many arguments about chocolate bars and everything fizzled out. My netball playing girlfriend? That 1ne was my fault since I played far too much ATARI instead of doing proper boyfriend things like, I don't know, arguing about stuff with a bit more vigour. Most times I've simply got on with life - when I broke up with Debbie, my Mum tried to cheer me up by making up a sort of weird jingle about how I was better off without her. I went upstairs and watched Beadles About and didn't even worry too much about it. Mind you, this was a period in my life where a failure to get a video camera meant I said to my Mum - a woman who lived in a single room with 10en siblings - something like has your life ever been as tough as mine? Aside from the hairdresser who asked her if people came into her room and touched her stuff, no misappropriation of her Glaswegian childhood has made her laugh more...

There's an uneaten pile of lollies on the table at work. No 1ne has eaten them...I might have to, or the girl who bought them might get a complex. I come from a tough family - when I took all the skin off my neck in a running into a tennis net accident, my Dad told me not to be so selfish when I asked for another Tic-Toc from the school nurse. I also come from a tough country. I think I'm emotionally tough, although I know drunk I can stay stupid things just to see what happens sometimes and then complain about it. I've been going to ask this girl out for 5ive years and every time I'm drunk I promise I'll do it, I really will...lucky I don't have her number. Some1ne wants to bring plants into the office. I make a "Between Two Ferns" joke since they want to put them either side of my desk, but no 1ne gets it. They just look at me strangely. They have largely abandoned the problem and chalked it up to experience and are already talking about plants and who's going to eat the lollies and whatever happened to Alison Brahe - no wait, I wondered that. They have left it for me to fix I think. It's sitting on my desk in that way people leave things when they are pretending they are going to come back later and fix it but they never do. Ultimately I'll pick up the pieces, even though I don't want to. I think some1ne will give me, I don't know, a lolly snake as a reward for fixing the problem. The other alternative would be to slip it onto the desk of the girl with the mod haircut, but she leaves on Monday - I hope she buys a cake, these lollies are terrible...

This current break up, oddly, was a lot like my break up with Sarah. Although with less crayon debate, less kissing for charity and more awkward silent pauses at about 4our in the morning that on a comedy show they would call a cricket riding a tumbleweed. Our relationship was nothing more than a beautiful mistake - I thought I could fix the world, and I couldn't. I thought if I said enough wonderful things and made enough playful gestures it could work out. It didn't. She still went back to the man with the scrunchy face, and now they've broken up. She's off work with depression now. No 1ne in the office has rung to offer support. They have left it for me to fix I think. It's sitting in my e-mail tray the "someone should call her" e-mail - in that way people e-mail when they are pretending they are going to e-mail later with a resolution and sort out who is going to ring but they never do. Ultimately I'll pick up the pieces and be a supportive friend, even though I don't want to. I think some1ne will give me, I don't know, a lolly snake as a reward for making the call. I haven't done it yet though. Instead I'm more worried about why my phone won't show me my e-mail quicker. Not that I get e-mail - comments from here and flashing e-mails from the NBA selling me shoes just about covers most of it - but it's nice to check. My phone isn't playing along though...yes, I will accept the CA certificate. I change my Fantasy NBA players obsessively, I do exactly 2kms on the treadmill, and I have toast regularly at set intervals...

An entire weekend bypassed by the time I emotionally wake up. I could have done so much more with my life if it wasn't so damned hard...