13 March, 2002 - 9:32 a.m.

As if Wednesdays - being that obscure day that's hidden somewhere in the middle of a week - wasn't hard enough to deal with already.

For as long as I can remember, my most dreaded day was always a Wednesday. Never a Monday, like everybody else. My main argument behind this logic was that Wednesday appears in the middle of the week, you've battled your way through Monday and Tuesday already, and all that's left until the weekend are thursday and Friday. Friday itself never counts as a proper day because you're already psyched about the weekend, and whatever arduous task you have ahead of you for the next 8 hours of that last "working day" will only go for so long before you can let loose for a gobsmackingly good weekend.

No, Wednesday's are like the final 50 metres on a 400 metre dash. (do people dash 400m? I was never a track and field person) you've already huffed and puffed your way through 350m, and just want to more or less collapse and die, right, but there's *only* 50m left to go, and you shouldn't be such a pussy and just get your ass over that finishing line.

Thus describes how I feel about the 8 hours of work on a wednesday, people.

Am I philosophical or what?

Anyway, back to my gripe about why today's dose of Wednesday is just too, too much for any sane mind to handle.

I woke up to my alarm clock buzzing annoyingly instead of the usual radio announcements because I somehow, during the course of setting my alarm clock the night before, had pushed the little clicky thing too far, and had chosen the wrong waking up option. And believe me - when your alarm clock goes off at 5am, it's no bed of roses.

Now, I'll admit that I'm not known for my sunny disposition at any time in the am unless I was still awake from the pm .. but that annoying buzz/beep is enough to drive anybody to a virtual suicide. And I'm sure that was pretty well achieved when I slipped over, fell, whacked my arm on the side of the shower, and when I flung my head back and swore, hit the taps. Painful.

Cold, wet, and feeling rather like a trolley full of damaged goods, I hobbled back to my bedroom to get dressed. Everything was going well until I looked out my window and noticed the dark grey clouds. Five seconds later, as it started bucketing down with rain, I decided that the white shirt I was wearing probably wasn't going to cut it today. This proved to be a problem because the only clean shirts I seemed to have that were work wearable were white, or some colour that was going to go completely see-through when wet. Being a girl is no piece of cake.

Battle my way down to the bus stop against gale force winds. Barely survive getting run over be a garbage truck. Get splashed by the water collecting on the side of the road by it instead. Reach bus stop just as bus pulls up. Thought, "possibly best thing that's going to happen to me today", reach inside bag for wallet .. find it not there. Fucking hell. Bus driver takes one look at poor, wet, miserable looking girl-child and allows her on the bus anyway. Thought, "this is probably the best thing that's going to happen to me today", and then looked up to find oneself surrounded by a 90 year old woman who smells like expired month old tuna muttering to herself about not having a seat, and a big, big *big* (!) sleazy looking biker brute. Muscles from Brussels he was not.

What followed was one of the worst bus trips I have ever had the misfortune of experiencing, and makes paying the $8 or so per day to drive in and park seem like a highly viable option. I got bumped and squished and muttered at and I think that big, big *big* (!) brute of a biker tried to grab my ass. Never been more relieved to get off a bus and walk out into a torrential downpour before, I tell you.

I get to work looking like Frankenstein's offspring from an incestuous relationship, reach my desk, and there's this pile of paperwork that comes up to my eyeball (now I may only be 5'6, but still!) and about a bajillion post it notes stuck all over my computer monitor with other stuff that I have to do, and ARGH! now the light above me, which consists of two long fluro tubes has one which keeps flickering and making a popping sound.

I can't believe it's only 9:30

I still have two and a half weeks until April Fools Day, god damnit!