As mentioned previously, I’m not all that keen on driving at the moment. The traffic for starters. Since people have chosen to go back to work, it has added a good 20-30 minutes to my drive. It feels as though I should have travelled half way around the world. I also have to put up with a variety of drivers from the Eastern, Northern and Western suburbs. It’s a mix of Sunday, kamikaze, and incompetent drivers in brief. Some memorable incidents indeed.
There was the time I was driving home and noticed the 'gentleman' in front of me chose to accost the driver in front of him. When that driver did not heed this gentleman's advice he involved his own driver. He actually pulled out a driver (golf club) through his window and began waving it about. He was swinging it towards the car in front. That person eventually realised they should just get out of his way and got the hell out of there. One of many. Many! I could go on but probably should just shut my pie hole on this topic.
The only thing that’s keeping me remotely sane is getting the chance to listen to some music over the long haul. It’s been a very long time since I’ve been able to sit back and just listen to music that didn’t sound like it should only be played in elevators or during intermission. Unfortunately (or fortunately) I don’t have a CD player in my car. I can’t be bothered getting one (I’m a tight-arse). All the way through school I would listen to whatever crap came on the radio and it was the best break I could have from my over-protective-no-you’re-not-going-out-tonight-you’ve -got-homework-to-do parents. Maybe it’s because I’m back at home that I’m desperately in need of some audio to distract me from my visual.
So firstly, I’d like to thank Triple J & Triple R for popping a cap in my crappy day’s ass. Triple J for bringing home the good of mainstream and Triple R for filtering out mainstream (Triple J producers, we need to talk about Panic at the Disco – I mean was that an experiment or intentional?). Secondly, to my car for fulfilling its end of the contractual agreement - petrol & regular maintenance for positive preoccupation. And thirdly to my employer for initially displacing me in a land far, far away, and refusing to transfer me closer to home.
9 comments:
Yak, I'm sensing a lot of rage and anger here. So i've decided to call the Terror Hotline just in case you decide to go all jihad on people. I'm just being alert, not alarmed.
Oh how you speak to the reality of this mind numbingly mental life we lead! And then there is music, sweet, sweet music to provide some sanity in this ever increasing stress pool we call 'working for the man' (what man, where is he? sitting in his palacial surrounds swimming in his money, that's where!)
And yes! What's with Panic at the Disco? GEEZ!
Hmm... I could become a Jihadest. I claim a holy war (or holey war) on all shit drivers, current employer's management team and racist clients that call me 'girl'. That's right. That's how good my day was today.
It's outrageous that they call you 'girl' - afterall there are so many better names like 'terrorist', bollywood reject, and may I even mention the 'p' word. Yeah, that's right, they shoulda' called you 'princess'!
Prrrrincess. You know, you have to rrroll yourrrr rrrrrr.
No really, what was up with that? I haven't seen it but I heard they included some red-neck slapper from some B grade show.
I will now refer to you as 'the Asian'. I guess it helps that you have that Mao/Liu thing going on.
Yeah, they got this girl who became famous from the last BB. She was horrendous, I can't believe there are still people like that around. She should just confine her prejudices to blogs like everyone else.
Yak, just call me 'line eyes' like you always do.
Oh I won't be restricting my affectionate little name for you to the blog, my sweet line eyes.
Intriguing... I too have suffered at the hands of sporting equipment toting lunatics. I too have felt the fear as a shaft of angry iron and heavy metal has been waved maniacally in my direction. I TOO have sobbed quietly as i have come to terms with 'being the ball' in an all too pragmatic sense.
And I too have photographic evidence of the exploits of this most callous of fiends.
And I think you know who this fiend is, too.
You deserved that arse whooping! Now, don't ruin this for me...
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