I hate it when saying you'll do something more often means that you actually have to do it.

I think, personally, making promises about things that you don't want to do shouldn't count. Like saying anything to a woman. Don't count.
Look, I haven't the horizontal tango with anybody for...what, two years now? It's not fair to be punished if I'm not doing anything to be punished for. And before you say anything, no, going to watch the pole show at mrs. palmers place ain't no substitute to tango.
Isn't metaphor fun?
Anyways, thought I might write something since I am up at an unreasonable hour, and something actually note worthy happened at work yesterday.
I was hanging about cursing because the laundry was a mess cause they had some sort of "differently abled" person doing the morning shift. This ment that all morning there was only four uniforms ticked of the list, one hundred uniforms being ready to be ticked off the list, coathangers on the floor and the cleaning hadn't been done. I don't know about you, but I can certainly sort uniforms at a rate greater than a peice per hour. Also, to make matters worse, the cd player had given up the ghost, I could only find "solid gold" or "the breeze" on the radio staions and the intercom system was being filled with the same four sickly sweet love songs that, after half an hour, make you feel that you have just been fucked in the ear by a throbbing, phallic sugar cube.
After about an hour, however, something wonderful happened. I smelt gas.
Now, as we all know, what I see, hear or smell, probably only has about a 40% chance of actually being there, just like the met service predictions. And just like the met sevice, the appiritions/predictions only happen if, figuratively speaking, there is a chance that the prediction might rain on the four loads of washing you put out that morning. But after ten minutes of inhaling the possibly phantom fumes, a coworker finnaly came in so I could ask them if they smelt anything. They said yes, so I turned off all the machines, and got the supervisor.
When I got back there, he couldn't smell anything, so I said, hey, come back in ten minutes, it might have something to do with the machines, so I turned them back on, and two minutes later I found myself drowsy and light headded. So yes, turn of machines, find supervisor, gas smell not there, I say I'm gonna sit down cause I'm woozy. He says he's gonna check out a few things.
Now, there are a few things in life that kinda annoy me. Many of them you have found for yourself by reading this page periodically. But allow me to add a couple more:
- not being taken seriously when I report a potentally serious situation. Wise cracks are not an appropriate way to deal with someone who says they've been gassed.
- Sitting in a smoko room for half an hour waiting for both my head to clear (I got a headache after the high-headdedness went away) and for any news eg: was it ok to go back to work? Was anyone being called about this?
- Having to go and find the supervisor after I got sick of waiting, and him telling me that "well, I couldn't smell anything". I told him I was going home. And I did.

You know what I like? Sitting being paid for that half hour in the smoko room. Oh, and entertaining the thought that the thorndon new world will explode. My favourite co-worker wasn't at work so I didn't really care what the hell happens to the place.
Since the smell went away when I turned off the machines I don't think it was actually gas, but one or two of the machines do use "wear goddam gloves when using this" chemicals, so, unfortunately, I don't think the place will actually explode.
Do you think that burning down your place of employment is the most common of employee dreams? I think there's a little arsonst in all of us.

In other news, I went and saw "I am Legend" at the movie theatre. It scared the poop out of me. I also saw the trailer for the new batman movie. That was good looking indeed.