Friday, October 21, 2011

Sweaty filing fail

I've spent much of the day filing. Drilling, removing bulldog clips and paperclips, squaring chunks of paper, slotting, putting on closed-off-file notes, slotting them in boxes.

In all ... I did just nine files.


There's like 40 to go.

I spent most of the time on my feet. And, given it's a little warmer, I was sweating a little within the confines of my MC Hammer-style super low crotch trackie pants.

Yep, trackie pants. I wear them to work because I dislike belts and the like. I feel too cinched in.

Eventually I had to go to the toilet for some number twos.

I pulled down trou and sat on the seat. It was then I nearly slipped off.

Yes, the sweat I'd been peculating over the many hours of standing and filing had covered my arse and upper legs in a fine layer of muscle crying. Which meant I was unfortunately somewhat lubricated when I tried to sit on the seat.

I slip and slid around the seat for a few moments before I managed to steady myself and not fly off. I did my dirty, sinful business ... then I mopped the sweat from the seat.

Because that's how I roll. No one should be forced to follow that.

I also managed to peel away the top of the underside of my left thumb flesh beneath the nail away from the nail. It stings a bit ... especially when the sweat creeps in.

Filing blows chunks.

Speaking of blowing chunks we recently had a condolence card go around. It was for an ex-colleague whose husband had died.

My message was simple.

'D, that blow chunksMikey'

This comment apparently confused some people. They didn't know what it meant. But D, a delightfully earthy type with a ribald sense of humour, would.

And I like to think even in such a shitty time as experiencing the death of a partner ... that made her smile.

So I stand by my chunk blowing and recording thereof.

Mikey ... signing off.


  1. The way you've written this it sounds like you ripped your nail on the toilet. Tell me it isn't so?!

  2. D'oh, that was from filing. All that squeezing and moulding and shifting and drilling.

    Hang on ... that makes me sound like a stunt-cock on a p0rn set ... in a mirror universe.

  3. I dunno, it could be in this universe!

  4. That means this IS the mirror universe.

    (Looks down, sees breasts)

    NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO ... hey ... wuhey!


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