Posts Tagged ‘Trust me I’m a medtech’

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This will be a vent post.

I was in a good mood this morning – you know, ‘cause it’s Wednesday, which means V, Eastwick (read Matt Dallas) and Satisfaction on tv; it’s public holiday on Friday; and I‘ve finally decided what colour schemes I want in our new house (Country Mushroom).

But then I had to go tweet about not having anyone to pick on ‘cause my colleague is on leave. So karma sent Justin Bieber’s ugly brother. To visit my lab.

Do I come into your place of work and comment on all I see and think? No. No, really I don’t. I’ll make comments afterwards over a cup of coffee and express my disgust for the layout, the outdated OS and the fugly choice of uniform – even though I loved the colour on the wall and even asked them what it’s called (Dark Truffle) – but I won’t insult your work place. ESPECIALLY if my only exposure to your chosen profession is Hollywood’s version of it. (Seriously, the only laboratory in a movie that looked the real McCoy, was the lab in Cast Away. Yes there was a scene in a lab there. His wife managed it. Go watch it again)

So little mister I-can’t-even-say-thank-you-for-the-crepe-paper-lei-you-painstainkingly-made-for-me-a-month-ago-with-which-i-won-the-dance-competition sashays into my lab. Says ‘Weird’ about 5 times. Called me Tannie (my eye is still twitching about that one). And comments on my choice of PPE. (or lack thereof). I told him to sod off in 5 languages. I gave him the evil eye over the black rim glasses, intimidating him (I know this works cause I’ve practiced in the mirror ) “Seun!” This means boy, and is the worst insult I can give someone without them knowing that I’m insulting them. I’m passive aggressive that way. Cause he called me Tannie!

But that wasn’t all that ruined my Wednesday. It started with a phone call. From a 3rd year BSC Microbiology student’s mother. Her Mother. Called me. Looking for a job. For her daughter. 3rd Year BSC student. Right there already you lost any brownie points you might have gotten. If MY Mother had to phone companies on MY behalf looking for a job?! Pure fiction that is. Told her we don’t have any vacancies. (We really don’t!)

When I was 3rd year (yes, I’m going there), I had found not 1, but 2 jobs, had a flat and bought my first vehicle (a scooter is still a vehicle – mine was yellow and called Jaundice). My mom paid the insurance (it was an all incusive deal). When I was 3rd year I combed my own hair and wiped my own bum. When I was 3rd year I acyually said ‘I’m down with that’ during an interview, and STILL got the job.

Let me add fuel to the fire already raging in my stomach. I know this woman who has a brother. He got married now in this year. He and his wife bought a little house. This is the first time on their own for either of them. They bought a fish tank. Want to collect tropical fish. They have dinner at his mom’s house 4 times a week cause food is just so expensive. but they bought a Fish Tank. They’re going on holiday with his parents. In the same car. So that they can have minimum expenses while on holiday. But they still bought a Fish Tank. With fish.

I.Want. To. Scream. And of course I’m jealous. I would love to have dinner at my Mom’s once a week, but have to settle to seeing her once, maybe twice a year.

So ja, my Wednesday got widdled on. And I haven’t even touched my lunch yet.

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Kids pick up everything you say – it’s not a myth. It’s true. Ok, they pick up what you chat with other people, but they are selectively deaf when you ask them to pick up their toys or socks or make the bad… you get what I mean.

Like a good little scientist, I have proof to support my statement.
Yesterday afternoon I fetched Amelia from her day mom. Told her (day mom) that I don’t know how we’re going to get into the house because Henk came to fetch my house keys at work today. So I’ll have to deposit Amelia through a window and coax her to get the spare key… or hopefully Henk managed to catch one of the 5pm home guys to put the keys in our mailbox on their way home.

Conversation over, we headed home, and as I was parking Henk arrives in his bakkie too – He had left work early. We all piled into the bakkie and went to check out the building site that will soon be our new home.

En route – out of the blue – Amelia pipes up :” Pappa. Sleutel. Haal.” (Daddy. Key. Fetch.). I was almost speechless. I mean, what else is this child picking up from our everyday conversations?!!

So no more TTC talk – unless it’s in code. No more swearing (I’m trying my best, for fu… darnit) and NO SKINDER’ing. Like I ever gossip. But did you see who was pushing Linda’s trolley at Spar yesterday?

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