I only go to work on days that don’t end in a ‘y’…


Mum is currently going through the phase of tearing our house down, replacing everything, painting everywhere and buying every house decoration she sees. The curious thing is that she was the one who had always told me, ‘the house is fine as is, no need for any work to be done’ when I’d ask her if she would be doing any work before the wedding. But nowadays I return home from work, and each day, it’s someone different in our house. We’ve had the curtain people over, the soffit workers and someone who kindly offered his services to tend to our garden (we spied on him for a couple of minutes on Monday and he must have been on his break, because he was sitting down, having a cigarette and talking to our dog. Boqq!)

Another family friend is repainting some walls which needed some going-over. He’s in his 50s and as deaf as a doornail and will not hear you approaching him, until he realizes you’re there, not from your voice but because he sees you. We initially got him to repaint one wall, which ended up being the whole roof, the ceiling, the living room, the outer room, he’s also put up some light fixtures and other things which he drew our attention to. Given he doesn’t hear ANYTHING, he’s very quiet and doesn’t waste time in chitter-chatter. He does what needs to be done, and suggests other work he thinks should be done. He’s the ideal worker, bar one thing. He smokes, and is always dragging on a cigarette inside the house. So our house went through the phase of having that stale stinking odour of cigarette smoke. Since he’s doing a great job, we don’t dare telling him to stop smoking, so every window and door we have is open and we’re trying to counterbalance the cigarette smell with fresh air. Plus a Yankee candle in every room. Till now, we’re sufficiently succeeding. So he’s happy, we’re happy and the poor house is getting properly aired.

But the funniest (and saddest) group of workers we have are the public sector ones. They’re tearing down our pavement and after 7 working days, they are still going at it. There are five, yes 5, workers. They arrive at 7.30am and start working at around then. Of course it’s only one or two of them who are working, because the others ask mum for a cup of coffee, and they drink it outside whilst reading the paper. At around 8.30am they tell us that they are going for a ‘break’ and will be back to continue later on. Of course, we rarely ever see them ‘later on’. One day it was a meeting in Victoria, the other day the jack-hammer didn’t arrive, another day their pick-up truck wasn’t working. So by 8.30am their working day is over. I passed in front of a local club this week, and there they were, drinking coffee and smoking, and not feeling embarrassed one bit I swear! They’ve taken a week and a half to tear down the pavement (and still not ready), which work could have been normally done and finished in three days. I swear these people don’t have a conscience at all. Something seriously needs to be done to control their comings and goings and see that they are working during their working hours. It’s a vicious situation and things don’t seem to be improving on this front. It does not help that we’re a spoilt country, we’ve gotten used to having it easy, and don’t take well to being told what to do.

A’s arriving tonight (well, Thursday morning more like), and I planned on over-sleeping today, but the family friend worker (the chain-smoking one) decided to come do more work today. And he came over at 7.30am! When he talks he yells because he can’t hear himself and mum in turn has to yell as well. The whole household was awake by 8am. So there went my wish of sleeping in for the day! My bedtime ‘tonight’ will be approx 5am, and I’m working tomorrow morning, so God help me. I guess my sunglasses will come in handy tomorrow.

Along with my concealer…

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