Today was interview number three with Pumpkin Patch. This time with the Regional Manager. He seemed really pleasant and easy going - would be a nice person to work with I think. Without blowing my trumpet too much, the interview went brilliantly and I'm pretty sure I'll get a job out of it.
So in light of that tomorrow was meant to be my first official day with 1st Choice Liquor. I say official day as I've been doing online inductions over the weekend. Can I categorically state that online inductions suck. Considering that I've been a retail trainer for the last 6ish years, answering some of those questions was ridiculous. The way they were worded meant you could have given more than one answer to a multiple choice question so I kept failing the bastards. I was ready to bash the bloody computer in the end. I was thinking if I'm that bloody frustrated and I know the answers off the top of my head, how the hell where people less experienced meant to answer them. I don't know - maybe I've been thinking too much into them.
So after pissing myself off trying to answer these questions and having a brilliant interview at Pumpkin Patch I started toying with the idea that maybe I really don't want this 1st Choice job. By the time Brian had come home from work I was fully convinced that no, I don't want to work for 1st Choice even if I don't get the other job. So decision made - I've quit 1st Choice before I've even started.
Today I caught up with Linsday for what was meant to be lunch at at Westfield. I say what was meant to be lunch because by the time we met, wandered, ate and coffeed (if that's even a word) we'd been there for 5 hours. The only catalyst for going home was that Brian was taking the kids to the movies. I had a brilliant day for two reasons. Not only was it great to catch up but to wander around a shopping centre and eat lunch without hearing "Mummmm, can I have this?", "Mummmmmmmmm, can you buy that?", "Mummmmm I'm hungry" and Mummmmmmmmmmm, I want a drink" was euphoric.
So when I finally got home, Brian pretty much hightailed it out the door with the boys to get to the movies leaving Gigi and I up to our own devices. So while cuddling together on the couch I notice something hanging out of her nose. I grab a tissue thinking it's just snot only to pull something kind of oval and yellow out of her nose. I'm looking at it trying to work out what it is and I'm thinking it looks kind of like the inside of a corn kernal. Hmmm, we haven't eaten corn for maybe 4ish days so now I'm paranoid thinking "OMG, she's had corn stuck up her nose for days". So now I'm wondering where the outside of the corn kernel is. I ended up having to put the poor thing in a head lock to stop her struggling so I could so and yep there was something else in there. No amount of trying to get her to blow her nose was budging this thing so back into the headlock with a pair of tweezers was the only remedy. Thank God for tweezers is all I can say. And that piece of corn was bloody huge too. Bloody child and stuffing things up her nose. Hopefully this phase stops soon.
I was running a little later than usual to pick up the boys from school because I had to wake Imogen from her sleep. Having just woken up she was a major grumpy ass and had decided that she wasn't getting in the car. I let her hold on to my car keys just to stop her crying and to convince her to get into her carseat. PARENTING FAIL 1.
So I quickly shut her door, and as I'm running around to the other side of the car I hear the unmistakable electronic noise of all the car doors locking. Holy Shit! I run back to Imogen's door and here she is happy as Larry clicking the lock button on the keys over and over. Try as hard as I might no amount of instructing, begging and pleading would get her to press the other button. So I do what any normal person would do under the circumstances...start crying hysterically and call my husband rather than the emergency services. PARENTING FAIL 2. Of course the first thing he says is get off the phone and call 000.
So the 000 operator is great. Talks me through what's happened all the while I'm still trying to get Imogen to press the right button. I'm still crying the whole time. She tells me not to panic and the police, fire and ambulance are all on their way. DON'T PANIC??? I'm starting to think that the embarrassment of having a convoy of emergency services vehicles is almost equal to or greater than the panic of your child being locked in a car.
Suddenly I hear "click" and I grab the door handle and yank the door open. I'm yelling at the 000 operator "It's okay, it's okay. The door is open, she's fine." I thank her profusely while yanking Imogen out of her seat and into a ginormous bear hug. I'm still crying and Imogen's saying "Hi Mummy, Hi Mummy" totally oblivious to all that's been going on.
I just cannot believe that after laughing so hard at Modern Family last week, that I did this today. What an imbecile.
Or fairy godmother, or the taker away of my pain - in Layman's terms, the Dental Surgeon.
So I walked in not knowing what to expect. Yes the Dentist seemed to recoil in horror after looking in my mouth, so I figured it would be bad.
But what I wasn't anticipating was "I'll remove all 4 wisdom teeth under a general anaesthetic. Possibly one of your molars as well - I'll have a proper look at it once the wisdom is out. I'm not going to lie about the pain. Your wisdom teeth are probably some of the worst impacted I've seen and are not only severly decayed, but very close to your jaw bone. Your recovery will be bad - you'll be very bruised and in a lot of pain. I have a vacancy tomorrow at 2pm. Do you want it?"
WTF?????? Um no. I don't want it tomorrow. Yes, I want to be pain free but I can't just pull three grand out of my ass - sorry. Well that's what I wanted to say. Instead I said, can you give me a week. And so it is. And I'm bloody shitting my pants.
Today I lost my friggin mind over a DVD player. We hadn't used it for while and had hooked it up to another tv and there was no way in hell I could get the bloody thing to work. I played with it off and on for 2 bloody hours. You know what was wrong with it. I hadn't pressed the button to change it from HDD to DVD. Headslap.
There is no better way to spend a wet, cold public holiday than a picnic indoors. What with yummy sandwiches and a fruit platter, nice crunchy apple, a triple cheeseburger made of Ritz biscuits and cheese (complete with a lovely *cough* photogenic face) and a tv to watch while eating - who could ask for more?
When is a car rally not really a car rally? When the event organisers are 6, 5 and 2. You tend to end up with one big traffic jam resembling a car park. Too bad for the drivers, at least the event organisers had a ball.
Yep going for mother of the year here with the kids home made costumes. They are meant to be tigers. What you can't see in the photos is the spray painted orange stripes on their clothes. I assure you they are there. What can I say? I tried.
At least now I have ammunition for their 21sts. :P
Oh and just because I can - here is a most lovely pic of my beautiful sister. She adores her big sister so much that she chose to wear the exact same clothes as me to the party (well except the dorky hat :P ). Nawwww ♥ ♥ Don't I feel loved.