http://blog.hazrulnz.net/wp-content/uploads/2008/11/a4216seaside-retreat-posters.jpgOn Monday I took annual leave. That meant I had a three day weekend. I most probably was the envy of the office and I won't lie, I was so excited for the weekend to start that I wasn't very (at all) focused on Friday. My mind strolled around lazily in its giant vacuous space. I took doubly long to do things. Then I watched the clock tick to 4:30pm before steamrolling outta there faster than I could say "Hello Melbourne, here I come!"
As I trudged awkwardly with luggage in tow to the station, I was stopped dead in my tracks by a broken down train. The train before my train had become unconscious somewhere in between my station and the next and every train thereafter was doomed to delay. I stared at the train master. How could he do this? Did he not know where I needed to be? Tiger Airways requires check in 45 minutes before the flight. I was incensed and worried at the same time. I stood paralysed on the platform. There was no scheduled train. Only the scrolling message on the train board which read "Significant delays expected." Do I wait? Do I get out of the station and catch a taxi?? Friday night traffic was so bad it would take 45 minutes as it was to get to the airport. And so I paced backwards and forwards like a maniac and chewed on my bottom lip. And chewed. And chewed and chewed. Still no train.
Then I got on the phone and in my irrational blind panic, blasted Man from Mars with impatient abuse which was completely undeserved, given that first of all the dead train wasn't his fault, and second of all, he was still cosy and tight at his house, and therefore poking around mindlessly at his things to get ready for his trip to Canberra airport. In other words, my cantankerous outburst would have burned the tips off his blameless ears I was that annoyed.
By some miracle my train arrived and I made the check in line with two minutes to spare. By the time I got on the plane I was so exhausted that all I wanted to do was go to sleep.
It wasn't to be.
I got my karma for blasting Man from Mars and was put next to this guy who was even more cantankerous than me and let loose a torrent of swear words, punched the seat in front of him and groaned continuously for the entire 50 minutes that the plane sat stubbornly on the tarmac.
As I trudged awkwardly with luggage in tow to the station, I was stopped dead in my tracks by a broken down train. The train before my train had become unconscious somewhere in between my station and the next and every train thereafter was doomed to delay. I stared at the train master. How could he do this? Did he not know where I needed to be? Tiger Airways requires check in 45 minutes before the flight. I was incensed and worried at the same time. I stood paralysed on the platform. There was no scheduled train. Only the scrolling message on the train board which read "Significant delays expected." Do I wait? Do I get out of the station and catch a taxi?? Friday night traffic was so bad it would take 45 minutes as it was to get to the airport. And so I paced backwards and forwards like a maniac and chewed on my bottom lip. And chewed. And chewed and chewed. Still no train.
Then I got on the phone and in my irrational blind panic, blasted Man from Mars with impatient abuse which was completely undeserved, given that first of all the dead train wasn't his fault, and second of all, he was still cosy and tight at his house, and therefore poking around mindlessly at his things to get ready for his trip to Canberra airport. In other words, my cantankerous outburst would have burned the tips off his blameless ears I was that annoyed.
By some miracle my train arrived and I made the check in line with two minutes to spare. By the time I got on the plane I was so exhausted that all I wanted to do was go to sleep.
It wasn't to be.
I got my karma for blasting Man from Mars and was put next to this guy who was even more cantankerous than me and let loose a torrent of swear words, punched the seat in front of him and groaned continuously for the entire 50 minutes that the plane sat stubbornly on the tarmac.
Eventually, we flew, we landed and I made it out of the "terminal" (read: shed) that only Tiger Airways would ever think to use. Next stop was a cafe for some food. Cue: the discovery of a hair which looked suspiciously like a pube (all crimpy-like) folded in amongst my chicken wrap. I practically ralphed.
Anyway, that Friday couldn't get much more difficult and Man from Mars arrived on time before we headed to his house.
Saturday was Man from Mars' friend's wedding day. The ceremony was beautiful, the bride was fashionably late and delicately elegant in a strapless floaty gown and cascading veil. The groom was typically jovial and only showed the slightest concern when his fashionably late bride almost erred on the side of being unfashionably delayed (like my train). But she arrived, they exchanged their vows and the congregation cheered with happiness.
Then we all went home, some slept, some played tennis, others cleaned their house before we reconvened for the reception. Excellent food, lovely speeches (some witty, others like the one from the bride's father, so touching I got teary) and some short and snappy dance floor time. We all retired home and suddenly it was Sunday. Man from Mars met up with his mates, I met up with mine, then we motored home for some dinner before calling it a night. Suddenly it was Monday.
And herein lies my point to this rather long narrative, because, Annual Leave Monday may well have been a regular work Monday. I woke up, had breakfast, got paranoid about the emails I would be receiving at work, checked my work inbox, became slightly concerned about the number of emails that would greet me on Tuesday and basically had to go straight to the airport. Four hours of travelling later, I was back at home. I was almost more tired than if I had just stayed in Sydney. But you know, I'm only 25, I should be able to handle going interstate 3 weekends in a row.
Buggered, more like.
On Tuesday I shuffled to work and had so much to do, I wondered whether the short lived "reprieve" that is, one day of Annual Leave, was worth it.
In hindsight, it was. Of course it was. It was a marvellous albeit hectic weekend.
But I just wish there was an extra day in the week that would give me that little bit more time to catch up and have a proper reprieve.
Anyway, that Friday couldn't get much more difficult and Man from Mars arrived on time before we headed to his house.
Saturday was Man from Mars' friend's wedding day. The ceremony was beautiful, the bride was fashionably late and delicately elegant in a strapless floaty gown and cascading veil. The groom was typically jovial and only showed the slightest concern when his fashionably late bride almost erred on the side of being unfashionably delayed (like my train). But she arrived, they exchanged their vows and the congregation cheered with happiness.
Then we all went home, some slept, some played tennis, others cleaned their house before we reconvened for the reception. Excellent food, lovely speeches (some witty, others like the one from the bride's father, so touching I got teary) and some short and snappy dance floor time. We all retired home and suddenly it was Sunday. Man from Mars met up with his mates, I met up with mine, then we motored home for some dinner before calling it a night. Suddenly it was Monday.
And herein lies my point to this rather long narrative, because, Annual Leave Monday may well have been a regular work Monday. I woke up, had breakfast, got paranoid about the emails I would be receiving at work, checked my work inbox, became slightly concerned about the number of emails that would greet me on Tuesday and basically had to go straight to the airport. Four hours of travelling later, I was back at home. I was almost more tired than if I had just stayed in Sydney. But you know, I'm only 25, I should be able to handle going interstate 3 weekends in a row.
Buggered, more like.
On Tuesday I shuffled to work and had so much to do, I wondered whether the short lived "reprieve" that is, one day of Annual Leave, was worth it.
In hindsight, it was. Of course it was. It was a marvellous albeit hectic weekend.
But I just wish there was an extra day in the week that would give me that little bit more time to catch up and have a proper reprieve.
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