So I’ve been playing that “This is the last time” game. You know – like “this is the last time I’ll leave for boxing from this house”, “this is the last Friday I’ll wake up in this house” etc. I’ve also been waking up at 4am each day and then lying there for an hour and a half until getting up time. I’m not sure if it’s stress or excitement. Perhaps both. I usually wake up thinking of something that I need to add to my todo list.
Speaking of last times, it turns out that yesterday was almost the last time I did anything. Remember how I bitched about the fact that my car needed $4k worth of work done to it? We ended up finding a place that specialise in Subarus, rather than specialising in ripping people off, so we took it in and got the same work done for $2k (which still hurt, but only half as much). I picked it up on Wednesday night and all seemed well. Then Shaun rang me in a panic yesterday because the mechanic had woken up in the middle of Wednesday night wondering if he had left some pin in the engine. He needed to check the car straight away before something disasterous happened. And he was right – he had.
All this stuff going on has meant that I’m losing the plot a bit. This morning something happened that I sincerely hope happened for the last time. I went to boxing as usual, arrived at work, got my stuff out of the car and headed into the building to have my shower. I park in the garage under the building and to get upstairs you need a security card. They are that kind that are on lanyards that you are supposed to wear around your neck. Yeah right…
Anyway, I was feeling around in my bag for my card. There was a bit of a queue forming behind me to get through the door. I was going as fast as I could, but I had my arms full with towels and bags and shower stuff so it was hard work. Finally my fingers touched the lanyard and I yanked it out. I turned round to smile at the waiting queue, wondering why my card wasn’t tripping the sensor.
Apparently you can’t open security doors with g-strings.