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An Unexpected Pleasure
SSar's Beast
morbane
Today has been a surprisingly good day.


The bus was very slow on the way to work, but, to my relief, I arrived just in time. So that I can take the bus to work, my boss had approved my request to have my hours changed to 6:10am ~8:40am (setting me forward ten minutes); the time at which the bus came meant that if I wanted to get to work on time, I had to walk, and leave the house at five. A pleasant change.

However, as soon as I got in, M~ began to quiz me on this. "I don't understand how you've changed your hours on the weekdays but you still get here at 6am on Saturdays."

I calmly explained the whys and wherefores of this. "Is there a problem?"

"Yes, there's a problem. You don't get here at ten past, you get here at quarter to twenty past. When there's just two of us in the mailroom that's not good enough."

I glanced up at the clock, now reading twenty past. "M, that clock isn't correct. Check it the next time the radio announces the time - it's significantly fast."

My new boss, Jesse, had apparently checked my hours change with her, so it should be quite all right for me to get in at ten past. "If this continues to be a problem, I can always go back to walking," I concluded.

I was quite pleased with myself. Normally, when she tells me off, I am either too daunted or too resentful to stick up for myself. M has not said one word of praise in the four months I have been working under her, and her opinion of me is strongly negative. Sometimes this makes me so angry that all I can do is just walk to the other side of the mailroom and stand there for a few seconds, controlling myself so that I can go on with work.

I was really exhausted at work today. For part of it, I was swaying on my feet, fighting to stay awake. This meant the numbers and their meanings swum in front of my eyes a bit, so that I had to read each one twice. I was quite slow. After a while, though, I woke up.

There wasn't much mail, so by the time Jesse arrived, we'd moved on to emptying old circulars out of the boxes (me) and doing box checks (M). I made quick cheerful banter with Jesse - it's hard to hate NZ Post usefully when Jesse is so obviously nice - and moved back around the corner, closer to M. M, checking boxes in an area where I'd been swaying as I put the mail in, was so frustrated this morning that she was bitching aloud: "How can you get the fucking box numbers confused? Look at this, it says Ultra Glass..... That girl can't fucking count..." and quite a bit more in that vein.

It was the most wonderful feeling to realise that although this sort of comment (rarely so bold) would normally turn me into an explosive brat, today I didn't care. M's opinion of me could hardly sink lower and it didn't matter to me in the slightest.

I've never felt so completely free of someone's opinion of me. I've never had such a complete non-reaction to the way someone judged me, whether their judgment was positive or negative. All I could think was, "Huh? She's bitching aloud? That's pretty weird, and not very smart either. I wonder if Jesse can hear her." And, "No, I did a pretty bad job today. Oh well. I'm not normally this bad." I honestly and truly didn't care. I mean, she didn't really have the right to say those things out loud, but it hardly mattered, really. I've NEVER felt that way before.

It was utterly beautiful.

I still don't know what I'm going to do about New Zealand Post. I've been meaning to ask M to sit down and have a talk with me about what she expects of me, what her real problems are with me, etc, and try and patch things up a bit there. (I'm not expecting miracles.) NZ Post has been even more unsustainable since Amanda quit, and the temporary help, Chelsea, quit a week after Amanda. On the good side, although they'd resent me pointing it out, they really really need me to stay in the mailroom. I hope I can have a polite and productive discussion with my boss Jesse (fourth boss in four months, I have SUCH faith in Post management) about what I would like to get out of the job. If I can impress upon him how untenable I find the current situation without making it sound like a threat to quit, that would be an achievement.

One day the Terrace mailroom called ours up and asked if we could spare someone for half an hour or so. I went, and it was such a surprise to be smiled at and thanked for helping out.

But today I didn't even have to try to control my temper and my tendency to sulk. If it was always like today, I don't think I'd mind.


Also today I got to sit on a step for two hours and text my friends, while getting paid for legitimate work that my boss is pleased with. That is, spying on trucks: noting down license plates and whether or not the drivers were wearing seatbelts. The time passed rather quickly. Mridula sent txts to me for all of it, an heroic achievement considering that she is on Vodafone and I am on Telecom. The work was easier than either I or my boss anticipated, which means I won't get the hours I'd hoped for later in the week, but at least she's pleased. And when Charlie is pleased, good things happen.

Heh. Last weekend when I worked on the Real survey, was there too. At one point, two people arrived at once, and Charlie said, "Now, you can go over there to Sara, and *you* can go over there to Zara..." and we grinned like two evil twins.

Furthermore, today Joel has been shooting a new movie. He is down at the park at the moment, with Nic and Tom. Guess which one of them is wearing a clown suit. My scenes didn't come up today so I napped on my floor and wrote some of my doomed, late essay.

Because of all the people around today, a huge fuss has been made of our cat. (Currently sleeping in my lap.) Tom's reaction was cutest: a complete descent into baby talk, and complete adoration. I cannot blame him. I am careful with my syntax when addressing cats, so as not to sound ridiculous, but the sentiment is the same.

I want to call the cat Sylph. Sam wants to call her Orbit. Fezz doesn't really like either of these names.

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I'm with fezz. please please no

Okay. Can you say *why* not?

Cause Becasue i don't like sylph and orbit sounds silly.

I think you really know you're getting somewhere when you realise that there are some people out there whose opinion of you just doesn't matter. If you don't respect them, then why should you respect their attitude towards you? Yes, it's a liberating feeling indeed.

Surely there should have been some pictures of the cat by now? :D

I think you should name the cat Isadora and call her Izzy.

She just isn't an Isadora. Sorry. Even though she dances.

names:

- Pringle
- Smokey
- Shishi
- Mishi

It was a good start to my day, as I got your first txt as soon as I woke up.

How about Squidgie-Muffin?

The clown suit is lovely, if a bit dirty. It's like a pyjama-suit or the robe of some cult.

Actually, you're right. One could almost get used to it.

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