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Sunday, 15 July 2007

Sunday stuff...


Sunday morning – cold, cold and cold. I am sure my dear American friends are rolling their eyes at what an Aussie considers cold. All I can say is stop rolling your eyes as you will go blind. I have no medical proof on that – it’s just a theory. Anyway it’s Sunday and I’ve just come back from buying a washing machine. You thought I was going to say Church didn’t you? No, there is no hope for me on that score. I blotted my copy book when I got thrown out of Sunday school for constantly blaspheming at 8 years of age - very true story…I am not an angel…shocking I know. I have been told that I am going to hell so I am not going to waste time fighting it. If the advertising is correct Hell is quite warm so that will suit me.

Anyway back to the wild excitement of buying a washing machine. After mine carked it (died) yesterday in a fanfare of smoke and the smell of burning rubber that was worthy of an Oscar nomination, I wandered off this morning to one of the major electrical retailers prepared to buy another machine as there is no way this spoilt modern woman is going to wash by hand. I freely admit I could not have been a pioneer woman. I can survive anything but I am not going to sleep rough, pee in the bush, live in a slab hut without electricity or wash clothes on a washboard. I love mod cons. And, as much as I would love the million prize money for winning Survivor and I can scheme and cheat with the best of them, I don’t want to light a fire with flint or run and climb over things to get an immunity idol. I also do not believe these reality shows where contestants say, “I did it to find myself.” Oh please…you did it for the money and now you are just pissed off you did not win so you are going to dazzle us with psycho babble crap to try and make us believe you are not a greedy manipulative bastard who got voted off because everyone hated you.

Right, went off on a tangent there – this is why writers have editors they cyber slap you and keep you on track - back to the washing machine…I don’t believe in paying full price for anything electrical. I like to haggle and I know, after a gig in retail, there is always a margin built in for annoying hagglers so as myself. Buying a washing machine in Australia is no small matter at the moment. Not only do you have to think energy efficiency but you also have to think water conservation and the more water your machine conserves the bigger cash rebate the government rewards you with. Anyway I picked a washer that the Prime Minister would approve so much of he would give me back some of my hard earned tax dollars and I haggled the salesman into the ground and the machine has pretty blue buttons on it so I was pleased with myself - so pleased that I decided to stop off and buy the scarlet red Cossack coat that I had been eyeing off as I had saved money on the washing machine (female logic) and a couple of chocolate and macadamia muffins (PMS logic so shut up).

Tomorrow it is back to work…puke, spew...I owe, I owe it’s off to work I go. Thankfully Monday to Wednesday my assistant Skippy does not speak to me – I don’t know why, I don’t ask any more - so I can get a lot of writing done…oh yes, and some of that stuff they pay me for…what was that again? That’s right I have the job description they asked me to write for myself I’ll read that again to remind myself.
Be warm, be cool, be safe.

2 comments:

anny cook said...

Chocolate and macadamia muffins. Oh man, what I would give for a couple of those... Panera (a lovely bread and bagel shop here) has the most delicious chocolate chip/hazlenut bagel. Wonder if I could bribe my husband into taking me there for breakfast?

Kelly Kirch said...

And I'm off to the airport. Home, home, I have to see my gnome. Oh, and perhaps take a few hours to SLEEP which I haven't done in a week.

Congrats on the pretty buttoned new washer. I'd provide some of the Lindt chocolate I purchased at conference, but OH, you're too far away. PMS alone then. It's the best way to do it. Don't have to mess with other's opinions. Which aren't wanted anyway.