The Postman is a Bastard

This is the video I am currently watching at work. He may not look like it, but the host is a big ol' barrel of laughs (not). Do you remember in the playground when every sentence that came out of your mouth ended in '...not!' ? Those were the days. The monkey bar days. The chip bark playground days. The sharpie graffitied green slide days. It was all so simple back then. Nobody cared if you wore a legionnaires cap. I drew pokemon for fun.

Today it is really pouring down outside. To be honest I quite enjoyed the walk to work (replacing sparkly flats with docs) despite the bitter cold and the cars driving too close to the gutter and raining gallons of water down upon me...

I am currently despairing that I will never get to the Spring Hill post office to collect the two parcels that the post man did not think appropriate to leave on my verandah (or even front stairs in the rain like he normally does ((the postman is a bastard))) because it means literally rising before the sun to get there and back in time to get ready for, and catch the train to, work.

But I have to keep it in perspective: all this is nothing compared to my soul crushing loneliness :D