And another thing …

Clicky :D

SIGH

Something odd keeps happening to my MSN.

Every now and then I get invited into a chat with many, many people, none of whom seems to be on my contact list. There are so many participants that my computer freezes over for minutes at a time and then defrosts and then freezes again when everyone tries to leave the chat at the same time.

And they all have really gay names. Like Princess Sexy Minx and I FUK U UP BRO.

Sigh

What happened last night was awful. This is going to be long.

When the alcohol hit me it was too late. I tried as hard as I could, to I don’t even know what. I remember wanting three things – to throw it all up, lie down, and not die. The nausea was so strong that it was actually painful, or that could be because I apparently kept bumping my head. I remember everything in flashes, nothing that Jez told me was really new. I guess I just didn’t see it from any perspective other than my own.

I couldn’t understand why I was moved so much. Neither could I understand why so much dragging and bumping was involved when Jez normally carries me so easily, you know, with one arm supporting my back and the other my legs. I don’t know why I wasn’t just put into a spare room or the bathroom and let alone to be sick. It couldn’t have been unexpected, for someone to be sick in a hotel room full of alcohol. I wish I could have been alone to throw up. I wish nobody witnessed what happened to me.

I think it was a bad mix of alcohol. I wrongly thought that the Cosmopolitans were out of my system by the time we arrived at the apartment. Drinking has never affected me like it did last night. I was actually sick. It took me completely by surprise. I didn’t think I could become so incapacitated from what I drank. Maybe it was because I hadn’t drank in awhile? I don’t know. Jez said I drank too quickly, which probably was true. Thinking about it is making me feel nauseous.

Jez gave up eventually and left me at the hotel. He was drunk. I don’t know whether I’d still want to talk to him if he wasn’t. If one of my friends had drank herself into that state, regardless of how much at fault she was, I would never leave her by herself. However, I don’t know what I might do if I was drunk too. I guess I DID leave Jez passed out on Parramatta Road one night a couple of years ago, but that was also under Yoza’s influence.

He was upset with me the same way I was upset with myself. I was so disappointed and disgusted of what I had done and more importantly what everyone had seen me do. Since that time we drank with Marcus and Hugo I’ve always been the more sober half whenever we went out. Even with friends, I was the one who drank the least and whined about how late it was the most. I stayed away from alcohol partly because I didn’t want to make an idiot of myself, and partly because after feeling its full wrath I find it hard to stand. So I don’t know what happened last night. I was happy. Jez and I were back to our old selves after Winehouse, and after gym I had great hair. I realised my friends were at Albion Hotel across the street and joined them for awhile. I didn’t drink, but seeing them made me all the more happier.

So maybe because it was just the good mood, but I didn’t quite mind the taste of alcohol, and felt that because Jez and I went together, it was safe to assume that neither of us will go too far. And I didn’t until we arrived at the apartment, where I felt completely sober and tired and wanting to sleep but not there. I asked Jez whether he was planning to stay the night and he kind of gave an affirmative grunt. That was when I became a bit grumpy and decided that if we were to stay, I might as well top up my drink so I can actually talk to these people I didn’t know. After I drank the white wine I felt fine for about five minutes. Then I died.

This morning Jez said some things I hope he didn’t really mean. If he did mean them, then I really think he was overreacting. I was sincerely sorry about the embarrassment I caused him and the trouble he had to go through trying to help me. I knew he might not believe that I had learnt my lesson because he wasn’t in my body feeling all the horrible things I felt, but I hoped that he would have at least known just how sorry I was. I was also sorry to myself. If he was embarrassed he doesn’t know the least of what I feel.

I didn’t want to bring up Winehouse. It’s just not cool when couples dig up old arguments to use against each other, regardless of how powerful the ammunition. But I had to. It was just too relevant. It wasn’t as if we were arguing over what brand of TV to buy and I suddenly say “oh but you got really drunk that time”. It was essentially the same thing. Mine was worse in some ways, his was worse in others.

I regret throwing up like that in front of all those people, but I know that after last night they won’t care. Would someone have thought “oh my God, I never expected someone to vomit in a hotel room full of people drinking”? Everyone has seen drunks get sick. We all watched Debra throw up all over her and Michelle’s jeans and then roll all over the lawn sobbing, and we all worried. But after it was over we never thought about it again, and from what I can tell she had sort of learnt her lesson. It was highly embarrassing, and I knew I was a burden to Jez, but to put it bluntly, I would have still thrown up just as much, felt just as sick and been maybe a shade less of an embarrassment had I not received his, or anyone else’s help and instead curled up in the bathroom for the rest of the night. Jez said he threw up on the train on his way home. I thought, essentially we were no different from each other last night. We threw up at different times in different places (mine much more unfortunate) but timing one’s own vomit is a skill we’ve yet to possess, and having complained about cleaning after me, I would have done the exact same thing had I been with Jez on the train. I would have been obliged to, just like he was. And now I wish even more that I was alone when I became sick.

Some things in life are so unfair yet so unchangeable. Jez’s dad was telling me this afternoon about Michael’s drunken behaviour on the night of Winehouse. Apparently Michael threw up in the backyard, then fell asleep on the giant marble table with the sun burning him. Jez’s dad felt sorry and helped him move inside, where he collapsed and passed out on the stairwell. Jez had helped Michael that morning, and it would be ridiculous to imagine him telling Michael what an embarrassment he was and berating Michael for losing control. Of course he understood why Michael was so drunk, because he was too. I understand that being the girlfriend is different, but I thought the girlfriend deserves just as much understanding that even without intention, drinking past a certain point will render you completely incapable of controlling your own body. And I know, Michael’s case wasn’t as horrifying as mine. I also know Jez cares more about me. I guess this is where the difference stems from.

This is where I quit drinking. I should put an asterisk here with a disclaimer that says I will probably still have the occasional glass of champagne when appropriate, but as for going to bars and apartments, I’ve always been, and will continue to be happier chewing on a glass of ice cubes. Seriously.

Jez is still angry with me and either sleeping or not answering the phone. I’ve told him many times that I didn’t intend for last night to happen. It was something both of us had done before, and something we never had the intention of doing, but happened because it was an accident. Because we weren’t careful enough. To my own defense, I didn’t try anything stupid while incapacitated. All I tried to do was to exert some control over my motor neurons and gag reflex. I regret it, I really do.

I came home and after a long discussion with my parents about pseudoephedrine and antidepressants and irresponsible GPs I failed to bring up last night. I know what they would say, and it would be exactly the same things as what I’m already saying to myself.

Awesome Fails

Street Name Fail

Options Fail

Pie Fail

Fab Fail

WTF Fail

Location Fail

Relevance Fail

Sign Win

Ice Cream Flavour Fail

Ad Placement Fail

This is why I’m fat

Usually I wouldn’t … but I’ve burnt off both of my thighs on StairMaster tonight and now I’m looking at this and wishing I could do this.

Mmm!

Harsha is back from India. When I came in this morning I greeted her and said “welcome back” and received a look from Glenda that plainly told me it was no occasion to celebrate. Everyone except Freda updated her on the Freda situation, and Mirjana told us about the Saturday incident.

On Saturdays the only staff present are Mirjana and Ismat. It’s a lot quieter than weekdays and they close much earlier, at 4:00 pm. Or 4:30 pm. I forget.

Actually, before I go on I should tell you what Xanax is. Xanax the brand name for alprazolam, which is a benzodiazepine derivative used in alcohol addiction and anxiety and things. It has anxiolytic, muscle relaxant, sleep-promoting and anticonvulsant effects. A portion of patients on Xanax are a bit out of it. There’s one man who comes in regularly to ask for Unisom sleep gels and Xanax. He’s addicted to both. Mirjana has taken to keeping our Xanax supply hidden for security purposes.

So, on last Saturday, it was near closing-time and there was nobody in the pharmacy. A man who had been wandering outside comes in as the last customer leaves, and makes a beeline for the dispensary. He was reasonably well-dressed and would have been very normal-looking if not for the fact that his facial expression was fucked up enough to scare both Ismat and Mirjana into calling security. He approaches Mirjana and asks for Xanax. No mention of any prescription. Just WANTED IT. Mirjana told him that there was none in stock, and that she could order some which would arrive the following week. The man wouldn’t leave. Soon, two security guards appeared and stood at the exits of the shop. The man said “I’ll be back” (I imagined Schwarznegger-style) and started wandering around the pharmacy. Security approached him and told him the centre was closing and suggested he leave. He didn’t. Instead he walks to the perfume counter and with a maddening expression starts spritzing one fragrance after another (none of them were pour homme, by the way). In the end, the guards dragged him out.

Today, one of them came back for a script, and told Mirjana that there was more to the story. After the man left the pharmacy, he went to a jewellery shop close by and loitered until they summoned security too. Then when the centre was locked, he put his head through the glass door on the first floor and cut his face. An ambulance was called, but when paramedics arrived they simply cleaned him up and released him. He then went to the train station, where he tried, in front of five or six transit officers, to pass the barriers without a ticket. When advised that he needed a ticket, he refused to buy one, and started shouting at the officers. The story went blurry here because I was fixing my hair, but I heard something about him falling to the ground, and then refusing to stand back up. In the end, three officers pulled him upright and took him away.

Ismat recalled that he said something about “wedding shopping”. And John said no wonder he was so agitated if he was getting married.

I think the gym should be less crowded now. Jez went to an information evening at PWC and since we skipped gym last night I didn’t want to miss out tonight too. I’m really hungry but I can’t eat anything now because I don’t want to be suppressing burps or feeling my stomach contents jiggle on the treadmill. Maybe a dark chocolate mocha frappuccino afterwards. Mmmmmmmm :)

Pharmacy Politix

We’re really fed up with our colleague. Let’s call her Dorothy, because she looks like a Dorothy. Let’s actually call her Dot, because Dot is short for Dorothy.

In Dot’s eyes, she is never wrong. Unfortunately, she’s wrong about that. But as obvious as the evidence points otherwise, she geniunely believes it’s always somebody else’s fault, and will twist the facts into twizzlers to put herself in good light.

For example, she messed up one of Mirjana’s orders one afternoon. It absolutely could not have been anyone else because Mirjana and Dot are the only ones that order anything, and while the former has been correctly processing orders for over a decade, the latter is pretty much computer illiterate. But no, it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t click “open” then “mark as acknowledged” then “receive” then “yes” then “okay”. It happened because, in her words, “the computer did something”. And when that raised our eyebrows she pointed the finger to Glenda. Glenda was SO MAD.

For another example, she broke the printer. Our printer occasionally fakes paper jams – i.e. the paper jam indicator would light up but when you look inside, all is peaceful. The quickfix is to open the lid, take out the toner cartridge then put it straight back in, and close the lid. There have also been several occasions when the printer decides, for no good reason, to spit out twenty pages of Wingdings characters, but once you wait out the freaky symbols Mrs D’Elboux’s repeats will follow.

During one of Dot’s shifts, the printer conked out. So Dot reached in, snapped the piece of plastic that guides paper through the machine, and pulled it out. When we came back to work the next day, we found broken bits of plastic on the dispensary bench, and paper was coming out from the rear end of the printer, straight into the back of the cupboard that nobody could reach. As a result, we’ve had to place a huge wooden clipboard behind the thing to catch our repeats and reports, which we then obtain by sticking our arms down the back. On top of that, all the pages come out with the top creased and a white line running across the middle, obscuring one digit of our approval number which we now have to fill out by hand on EVERY REPEAT FORM (and if we don’t, other pharmacies get it wrong. Our approval number is 12827D. The non-inked line runs down the middle of the 7. Once a customer submitted a script originally dispensed by us but the repeat was processed elsewhere, and under “original approval number” they wrote “1282′ ‘d” because we hadn’t filled in the rest of the 7. Commas in the approval number. Fancy that).

And according to Dot, the printer “broke on it’s own”, and she could “fix it” by putting the pieces of plastic “back inside”.

During the past couple of weeks, the level of stress Dot imposed on everyone else has increased exponentially, causing Ismat and Glenda to literally throw things around the shop, and muttering “fuck off” and “bloody idiot” when Dot isn’t within earshot, which she usually isn’t, considering she’s rather deaf. I made a point of speaking to her very little, because I’m afraid that if I end up throwing things, I’ll have a clear target and excellent aim.

Today, she suggested we manipulate our suppliers into giving us credit for a tube of Burnaid cream which was stolen from its box by claiming that the box had arrived already empty. I wanted to slap her on the head.

This isn’t nearly half of what there is, but I really feel like talking about Witchery now.

So, Witchery has launched their own line of menswear, and it’s fabulous. Jez is obsessed, so we’re going to Chatswood this weekend to look. I haven’t thought about clothes for awhile, but when I went to the Witchery site to browse the menswear, I peeked at the womenswear too and drooled all over the keyboard. So yesterday afternoon I took an afternoon break and bought a couple of things. Wait, I can show you!

This vest. I still don’t really know what to wear with it, but it’s just so cute. My one actually has white on the edge of the ruffles. I imagined wearing it with a pretty, open jacket, which thanks to Jez I have, and no thanks to Jez I have to repeatedly lend an ear to complaints about how much it had cost.

This scarf (there’s no picture of it because it must be SO NEW that it hasn’t been added onto the website) which I am absolutely in love with because it’s beautiful and the mannequin in the Witchery window inspired me to wear it draped over both shoulders and belted and it also doubles as a top under my blazer and looks so good with pearls. And then Jez said it reminded him of a tablecloth. And then I realised it does too.