Harriet you idiot!
Trip Start May 27, 2010
97Trip End Aug 31, 2011
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I guess there can be positives to being approached by these street workers, if you can call them that. I'll never forget the time I was working in Sydney, eons ago, and was standing in the mall having a ciggie. A guy came over to me and started chatting to me about the Wilderness Society and what great work they do, and then proceeded to ask me for a donation. I said to him that I couldn't give him any money because I didn't know where my next pay packet was coming from - I had literally just been told the office I was working in was closing and so I won't have a job anymore. He spent the next little while chatting to me and I believe he was just being genuinely nice. I had to trust this anyway - he could've been trying to hit on me I suppose, or just pretending to be interested in my sob story so that I would be interested in his. Back to the dying trees.
I got mail every day of the week and each day I was excited to go home to see what the postman had delivered
Phil went away to Budapest with the boys for his stag weekend. They left early Friday morning and I was worried that it was going to be a repeat of the weekend bender he had when he went to Dublin, which ruined him for days afterwards. He'd been off work sick the whole week, having come down with a case of man flu (you know, that flu that's way worse than any others?), and so the concern was that it was going to hamper his weekend. Hamper it did not, for they still all managed two big nights on the Hungarian booze, and all had a great time. Captain Condom even made an appearance, albeit only for a little while. I was disappointed that the boys didn't dress him up in the Bruno outfit they'd planned, but they were sympathetic and decided that it was far too cold to let a man run around town in such a skimpy costume
I spent the weekend mostly at home, getting some odd jobs done, spending money I don't have and watching a number of rubbish movies. There's just nothing decent around at the moment. It's quite depressing really. I bought myself a lovely faux fur coat and ordered another that will keep me warm as I commute to work in the horrid English winter. I wrote some Christmas cards and addressed some envelopes to send out some invitations and, being the super-organised person that I am, they are now all ready a month early. What ever will I do to fill in time over the next month!
I also found inspiration at work earlier in the week when a girl had made some whoopee pies. They were great. I had three. Over two days. I figure that's not too bad. So I thought "hey, I'm going to make some of those" and with a puff of smoke, Harriet Homemaker appeared in my kitchen with a Betty Crocker packet mix under her arm. Harriet, the idiot, only divided the biscuit batter into 10 parts, instead of 20, meaning that instead of 10 biscuits joined together with frosting, there were only 5. I realised after I'd put them into the oven, when it was too late to pull them out and split them up. Oops! I spent an hour making these things and only ended up with 5! Two I sent around to Phil's mum to have for afternoon tea with her mum, the other three I kept for when Philo came home from his weekend away. Embarrassingly, I only had one and a half to offer him. Thankfully there's another packet in the cupboard for next time I feel like unleashing Harriet in the kitchen. What an idiot.