Fursday & Sin City

Today was a good day. In a week with too few "good days", Thursday's little surprises made me realise it's been a while since I've been happy.

No, laughing doesn't always equal happy.

Today started as every one of the dumb days this week has started - with me being very late for work. Not that I have to clock-in, but I imagine before 9am to be *ontime* and after 9am to be late-for-work. It doesn't bother me that my start time impacts my going-home time; what does bother me is I lose my desk to a Call Centre Rep if I don't claim it in a goodly timeframe i.e: before 9am.

I like Hot Desking in theory - but it should never apply to me. Just like meetings don't always apply to me, and when everyone decides to leave a party, that doesn't apply to me either. And to be honest, I'm not the only one - well okay, at the party i'm the only one left, but at work, the same people sit at the same desks most days so I guess they don't consider Hot Desking applies to them, either. Except that one guy who, yesterday, snaffled my desk.

So, getting in late. Walking the two blocks from the car park, late already, and drawn to the C-Pod Coffee Cart'n'eatery (if you don't mind your eatery in the bikery) by the waft of coffee aroma. I decided to buy my lunch and breakfast muffin. I don't normally have a muffin for breakfast, but as I'd not eaten breakfast and I was purchasing a muffin, by default it became my breakfast, therefore, my breakfast muffin. And of course, I ordered my coffee - large flat white, two sugars. Waiting while the CPod guy espressed my coffee, delicately flavouring it with the exact number of sugar cystals and pouring beautiful velvety steamed milk into the takeout cup, I stood quietly in the bikery of the office building, happy that I'd remembered my swipe card today and even though i was late, I wouldn't have to sneak into the building on the shirt-tails of a Field Force worker this morning. Naturally, my mood changed dramatically, although I was not particularly surprised given how my week was going (remember the forgotten swipe card the day before? dangerously and not previously mentioned low fuel tank on the way to work? aforementioned lateness?) to discover my EFTPos/Cashflow card wasn't where I expected it to be.

My coin collection only stretched to the coffee, which Mr CPod guy was deftly capping with a takeaway/sipable lid when I realised I could no longer afford to buy my lunch. The lovely CPod man said I could pay him tomorrow, but my automatic "no, thank you" cut my nose off to spite my face - something my grumbing tummy complained about with increasing insistance as lunch loomed closer back in the office at my hot desk.

I guess my body switched to "survival mode" because I started running through my options to keep from starving to death on the 7th floor of a secure building in downtown Auckland. I am pretty sure no one notices if I'm there or not, so would they notice if I starved to death at my desk? It was a risk I wasn't prepared to take.

I decided to call Greg. Now, i know he's my ex-husband, but I do tend to call him in such situations (when my car breaks down I call Garry Kennedy but that's another story). Greg's work often takes him all over town, and I thought I was due some good luck and he might be working in town, or even on the Shore, therefore the possibility of him driving *past* town would be helpful too.

me: Hi, it's me, where are you?
greg: I'm on the motorway.
me: oo you're not on the motorway by town are you?
greg: why?
me: cos I left my cashflow card in my coat pocket and so don't have any money in town, which isn't a problem until I want to go home and can't get my car out of the parking garage
greg: your car is locked in the garage?
me: no.. it's in the parking building here in town, but I dont have any money to get it out later today.
greg: so you need money now to get your car out of the garage?
me: I need money later on in the day to pay the parking to get my car out of the garage
greg: where are you?
me: at work, airedale street.
greg: and your car is in the garage?
me: my car is in the parking building. i drove to work. i parked it in the car park. I don't have any money to get it out at the end of the day. I thought if you were near town, you could swing by and lend me twenty dollors.
greg: you need $20?
me: where are you?
greg: on the motorway
me: *where* on the motorway?
greg: Manukau
me: will you be in town anytime today?
greg: yes, I'll be in town this afternoon.
me: can you come to work and drop some money off to me please?
greg: aren't you at home?
me, through clenched teeth: no i am _not_ at home, I am at _work_ I forgot my _cashflow card_ i have no _money_ and i'm _starving.to.death_ plus my car is in the _parking garage_ and I can't afford to get it _out_ I _need_ you to bring me some MONEY! jesus fucking CHRIST you NEVER LISTEN TO ME!
greg: I can come into town later today, I'll give you a call.

So, he wasn't in town - nor particularly helpful. Credit to him though, if i'd said COME RIGHT NOW I NEED MUFFIN MONEY he would have, but I'm not one to use my powers for evil, nor to waste them on a muffin when taxis are so hard to find in Ponsonby at 4am on a Saturday morning.

So I worked, and put the feeling that i was losing lean muscle mass at an expedential rate to the back of my mind. I did good work too, for the most part. Got to talk to Snug, made my manager laugh a tiny bit, pretty well had a good day and, though i didn't tell anyone, found my EFTPos card in an obscure and rarely used pocket of my bag.

me: hiya, me again.
greg: oh hi.
me: look, lets for get that conversation earlier okay? it never happened.
greg: Oh, you borrowed some money from someone at work?
me: ah, sure. yeh, why not.
greg: heh, I knew you'd cope.

With money card firmly pressed into my pocket, swipe card jammed into the other, and camera slung over my shoulder I decided to go and hunt for sushi or some other native Auckland food. As I walked past the Mission and down into town, I saw loads of people I wanted to photograph but I get so shy about photographing people - it struck me that a photographer might have to be able to run at short notice if they photographed someone who might not want to be photographed, and given my weakened food deprived state and the general look of the public, I decided to leave the camera stuff for today. I walked past many food establishments without stopping but worrying instead at the noise my heels were making on the pavement, and somewhere along the line I started thinking about Rick.

Rick is the eldest son of a very dear friend of mine. I knew he went to school in town and as i was wondering this low and behold, there he was right in front of me. He looked genuinely pleased to see me and we chatted for a while. He asked if I had any time and considering I'd been playing fast and loose with the hours of work today already I told him I had time, so he invited me to come see his school.

Rick goes to the Freelance Art School and is half way through an animation course. And he's bloody good. Good enough for Disney to have flown him out to Sydney for an interview earlier this year. But Rick decided he needed to finish his course because he still has so much to learn. So he toured me around the artwork on the walls, including the some original hand painted cells from the first Animaniacs episodes, which were drawn and inked in New Zealand. He introduced me to his tutor and showcased some of his pencil work. It was *awesome*. I was so envious, both of his youth and of the opportunity he has to learn how to do this kind of thing.

After a while my responsibles kicked in and bid him goodbye, he rubbed my arm affectionately and put me safely into the lift to the ground floor and back up Queen Street, stopping only to buy a prepackaged sandwich on my way back to work. Which was good, for the rest of the day - productive and successful and even involved wearing a stereotypical chinese hat that was plonked on my head while I was on a phonecall. There were nice friendly emails amongst the work and that always makes me happy.

The end of the day arrived about 6:30pm and I toodled over to the car park to retrieve my bird decorated car (another story) and drive on the motorway to do a bit of shopping at Botany before going to Village: Highland Park to see the movie Sin City.

I only have one thing to say about Sin City. It's FABULOUS. Can't fault it: loved it, loved it, loved it. Okay that was more than one thing. But it's a definate go-see/don't-miss. Especially to find out what happened to Rory Gilmore after she dropped out of Yale. Stay in School kids!!

Now I'm home, and my disgruntled cat isn't talking to me because she had to wait until 11pm to have her dinner and I just remembered I didn't have any myself, though, i did have a gin and tonic at the movies so that sortof counts. I am in my pyjamas and I'm worrying about how long I've been writing in this small Moveabletype window.

Today is almost over and I'm tired, as i should be after such an eventful, and happy day.