I had a lovely moment on the bus tonight. It's such an ususual event that I thought I'd write it down for posterity. I had my eyes closed and was having a demi doze, thinking about food. I'm meeting a good friend on Fitzroy St on Friday morning and am looking forward to eggs. Big, freerange poached eggs on smoked salmon with Hollandaise sauce, either on a muffin or some sourdough toast. Possibly some roasted tomato involvement. Now that's what I call a breakfast, I can taste it now. I was thinking about this divine plateful when I opened my eyes and found that I was much closer to home than I'd initially thought. No closer to the breakfast but closer to home. Iknow, it's a small thing but it made me happy, which is more than can be said for the wait I had for the bus.
An average homeward bound journey after a busy day. I waited at the bus stop for 20 minutes before admitting defeat and walking back along the route for about 7 stops. Even then I had to stand for just over half the journey. It's ridiculous that I have to do that after a 10 and a half hour day but I wanted to get home and I didn't have money for a taxi. I emailed Morris Iemma last week but he hasn't answered. He's a very busy man. Fuck knows what he's busy doing but it's not sorting out the public transport system, I know that much. Every night the denizens of Sydney cram themselves onto buses like human sardines and it's not good enough. It's enough to make me want to learn to drive and then everyone had better look out. Yes, yes, I can't drive. Yes, really. Yes, I tried. And failed. Three times. So that was that. Yes, it was twenty years ago but trust me, you don't want Boudicca out there on the road. It's better this way.
The Fuckwit of the Day prize goes to the head of the estates department of my hospital. I was in charge of the department today (I spent a great deal of time walking about telling people that I was very busy and very important - tongue firmly in cheek). I'd checked one of the fire exits on Monday and found that the door didn't open. I told the boss (obviously I wasn't very busy and very important that day), reported it on the repairs thingy on the computer and rang the hospital fire officer. I left work on Monday safe in the knowledge that it would be fixed. Silly me. After having yesterday off it occurred to me to check the fire exit. Which didn't open. Apparently I was heard to say, "For fucks sake!" in a frightening manner before ringing the head of the estates dept. He listened to my problem then said, "Can it wait till tomorrow? I can't guarantee I can get someone there today."
"Sure, it can wait. Just as long as you know that if there's a fire here before tomorrow I won't be able to evacuate the department and we'll all burn. But if you think that's okay then it can wait."
Within ten minutes a handyman appeared. Funny how the thought of toasted human beings gets results.
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