Salt and corrosion

It was my long day at work. Month end: I have to wait until everyone finishes so I can close off the financials. Completed uneventfully and home in time for dinner. Unlike November...

Back in November, I had colleague Brooke with me, learning what to do in case I ever get hit by a bus. That made a long day longer, as I had to explain everything and Brooke made copious notes and double-checked everything. So it was after seven when we finished, and a little later when we left our stuff on our desks and went into the kitchen to wash up our mugs... and then stayed in the kitchen when our swipe cards wouldn't let us back into the office. I swiped. Brooke swiped. I swiped again, just in case. Brooke swiped again, just in case.

This was bad. There are a number of exits, but all of them need the swipe card. If the swipe card doesn't work, we're stuck in the middle of the building with access to the kitchen, bathroom and a couple of meeting rooms. We couldn't even get back into our office, where we'd left our bags and phones.

Just as we were looking at each other, wondering what to do, the CEO's personal assistant came past on her way home and very kindly swiped us back into our office. Phew.

We have since had our swipe cards fixed to give us 24-hour access, so that will never happen again. (And if it did, I have realised, there are computers and phones in the meeting rooms, so we'd be able to contact someone that way.)


January

31. Toilet paper: over or under?
Over, and anyone who does otherwise is a monster.

I work on the first floor (which, for clarity, because I know this is a term with different meanings depending on where you live, is one floor up, above the ground floor). I sit next to a window, which looks out on a tall tree in front of the building. And what only I and Colleague S, who shares the same window, know is that the tree top is full of orange butterflies. It's very soothing to look out on when thinking on a knotty accounting issue.


January

21. Do you like classical music? If yes, name your favourite composer(s).
I'm going to assume this is asking about what my flute teacher called chamber music in general, not just music of the classical period. I'm currently on a Mussorgsky jag, and I always like a bit of Satie.

I am home again. Working from home, that is. I've been back in the office since mid-December. I've only just started getting used to it again, but word came from on high this afternoon, so I packed up my desk at the end of the day and here I am. It did seem a bit silly that I've spent the last two years working from home when there was only twenty cases in town, but had to come back to the office now Covid is out and about.

Speaking of work, in December I heard from Old Boss, at the not-for-profit job I left in 2016. They've finally lost their government funding and will wind up in December 2022. Which is grim, but given that this was first threatened in December 2005, they've had a good run. At the back of my mind I've always thought of it as my actual job, one I just happen to be not working at and would happily(-ish) go back to when enough time had passed. Time to recalibrate my ideas about that.

January

6. How often do you binge-watch TV shows?
So much for questions I could give interesting answers to. I don't binge-watch TV shows. I like to let my thoughts simmer.

I forgot to post all the questions last time, in case anyone else wants to do it. The full list of 365 questions is posted here.

I planned to do a wrap up for my last monthly entry: updating various things mentioned earlier in the month. But I have had A DAY, f-list. As it's the last day of the month, it's my special day for working after everyone has finished in order to run the monthly financial reports and roll the monthly variables into the next month. Which is not hard, just a bit fiddly, and takes just over an hour on a good day. But today was not a good day, and I had to spend over an hour on the phone with the software support people before I could even start. At least they were in Brisbane, which doesn't do daylight saving time, so they were all still in the office.

So I'll put my original idea aside and instead, as I won't finish my current book tonight, I can do:

November books read

* Smoky-House - Elizabeth Goudge (1940) ★ ★ ★ 
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* Miss Mole - EH Young (1930) ★ ★ ★
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End of financial year business has been keeping me occupied these last few weeks. I'm not in charge of organising end of year stuff in this job, just doing pieces of work as required; but being in local government, there are a good few more statutory pieces of work required. Plenty to do.

The woman whose maternity leave I was covering has returned. I assumed there would be a handover period like I had when I started, gradually picking things up, but I had forgotten that, of course, she already knows the software and procedures and such. So we had a week's overlap while she got her bank access restored and I wrapped up a couple of small jobs that were quicker to do than explain to someone else, and that was it. I now sort of float, doing special projects for various people: last week, reading twenty-five contracts to apply a new accounting standard for grants revenue for my boss, next week I'll be running reports for the auditors, the week after I'll be working with our IT guy to sort out some issues with the council-run caravan park's banking. Lots of variety.

Way back when I started this LJ, I was working for the council's IT department, running a government-funded community internet skills program. Back then, the council had taken over an abandoned factory to use as a business incubator, and there was a computer lab and all the council's computer servers there as well, even though the IT department itself was in the main council building. So I worked in a sort of outpost, just the computers, the servers and a small office containing me and the guy who looked after them. And sixteen years later, I'm back at the council, and my old office-mate is the IT guy I'll be working on the caravan park project with. Time is a circle.

Alistair was attacked by a dog when we were out walking the other day. I saw the dog, a spaniel with a collar, not one I've seen before, trotting down the other side of the street earlier. It went up the hill and I forgot about it. At some point it crossed the road and came back down the hill, because suddenly it was over our front fence snarling and Alistair was bouncing up and down on his leash like a spiky, spitting rubber ball. I shooed the dog enough to get it back out on the street and managed to catch Alistair and carry him, coiling like an eel, inside. No injuries (other than to his dignity), but he spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on the sofa and looking put out.

From Monday, masks will be compulsory here in Victoria. For everyone now, not just in the Melbourne outbreak hotspot. My mother has been busy, making us two each, and some for her non-sewing friends. She's had to stop now, as she's out of elastic, and that's the new shortage in town. Not a scrap of 3mm elastic to be found.

What else? I made these cheese scones yesterday. I don't know about perfect, but they're pretty good.

July books read

* The Case of Alan Copeland - Moray Dalton (1937) ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
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* Rope's End, Rogue's End - ECR Lorac (1942) ★ ★ ★
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* Spring Magic - DE Stevenson (1942) ★ ★ ★ ★
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I had one and a half days in the office this week, which felt a bit weird. I had to work on something with one of my colleagues, so we got permission to go in and work in one of the meeting rooms, sitting on either side of a meeting table and connecting the laptop to the projector screen on the wall. The meeting room is amply stocked with hand sanitiser and cleaning products, so we were able to maintain distance and hygiene while working on the biggest spreadsheet you've ever seen.

Unlikely to be repeated, though, as cases in Melbourne are going up again (twenty-five new cases yesterday and nineteen today), so our lockdown restrictions are being tightened again. For the first time, they're talking about regional variations, as the City by the Sea only ever had five cases, all people returning from overseas travel, and none in the last two months. But for now at least, another month at home.

I forgot to say last week that Alistair had his annual home visit from the vet. Vaccinations up to date, and he's lost 100g since last year, so the vet was pleased with him... or was pleased with him right up until he bit the vet's finger. In fairness, the vet had just poked his finger in Alistair's mouth, so it was more of a reflex action than a vicious bite, but there was a lot of blood. So I think both cat and vet are glad that trauma's over for another year.

This week brought a letter in the mail from an old LJ friend, who is sending out little pieces of art to brighten people's days. It certainly made my day. I've pinned it to my work pinboard.

Also, I bought a new toothbrush this week. It's fine. It does the job. But the packaging was over the top. All caps and random bolding telling me the toothbrush offers:
- 4 ZONES OF BACTERIA REMOVING ACTION
- <0.01mm CHARCOAL DUAL CORE SLIM TIP BRISTLES GENTLY REACH 7X DEEPER BELOW THE GUM LINE
- INNOVATIVE TONGUE AND CHEEK CLEANING DESIGN
- RUBBER POLISHING CUPS
- 300% HEALTHIER GUMS

Finally, a headline from the local news:

DAIRY FARMER WRITES POEM

Page three, that was. High importance.

This week:

1. I discovered the existence of lamington-flavoured chips. I read a review online that described them as "chocolate flavour with a potato aftertaste". That is surely something no-one has ever asked for.

2. I went out for lunch with some people from Old Work. It was the last week for the Accounts Officer who was made redundant at the same time as me. She spent her last day printing life-size photos of her head and sticking them all around the office: on the wall behind her desk, on the back of the bathroom door so she'll appear in the mirror above the hand basin when someone's washing their hands, stuck to the back of a cupboard so it looks like she's peeping over the shelf. (She brought news of the former colleague with a brain tumour: apparently it was removed successfully and she was out of hospital three days later.)

3. The electricians finally came and installed ceiling fans in the bedrooms and computer room. They were supposed to do it before Christmas but were delayed. The electrician left his teenage apprentice to do most of the work, returning later in the day to check it, and it seems Jack the apprentice likes a chat as much as my mother, because I got a detailed description of Jack's life when I came home from work: what football team he plays for, what football team the electrician plays for, Jack's thoughts on the rash decision of Kieran, the other apprentice, not to finish the apprenticeship and work on his parents' farm instead. All the important news. Alistair, on the other hand, did not enjoy the electricians' visit, particularly when they were up in the roof. In fact, he had a bad day all round, as my mother's brother G popped in for a visit from South Australia. Uncle G is a burly man who loves cats; Alistair does not like humans who are not me or my mother. My mother described a battle of wills, with Alistair on the back of the sofa looking grumpy while Uncle G ruffled his fur, saying, "Puss-a! Puss-a! Puss-a!"

Today:
1. I walked over to the shop to buy the newspaper and noticed that one of the houses I had to pass, with a garden full of gnomes and cement lanterns, has a new statue: a life-size zebra in the middle of the lawn.

2. I went to Old Work's annual Australia Day second-hand book fair in Port Fairy. I used to go to it before I started working for them, so it seemed churlish not to just because they made me redundant. Port Fairy was packed for the long weekend, so I had to park a couple of blocks from the venue and walk the rest of the way. I had to pass the civic green where some sort of Australia Day ceremony was happening. A man was giving what sounded like a very boring speech about a local quarry and how it had sent Port Fairy bluestone all around Australia.

3. I read this story about a grieving pig.

Hello, f-list. I am unemployed! For two days. I finished work on Friday and I will start the new job on Monday. I've never done that before. I've always had at least a couple of weeks between jobs. I hope I remember to go to the right place. It's just across the road from where I've just finished, so that's not entirely out of the question. I must remember to turn right instead of left.

My last week was busy. My first boss from there, who left from burnout a few months after I started, rang from Canberra, which was nice. She's stopped being an accountant and is retraining as a tennis coach. Good for her. The finance and governance team, located in three different states, had a Skype lunch for me and sent me a gift voucher for a ticket agency, so that's my winter musical taken care of. The local staff took me out to dinner and give me an orchid and a glass jewellery box. And on Friday, the colleague who couldn't make the dinner popped in on her way to a meeting to give me a cake. Lovely people. I shall miss them. I will not miss the organisation, which is, let's say, interesting. I'll find out how they're managing without me in a couple of weeks, when I go to the leaving do for the other person made redundant.

In non-work news, my small-change piggy-bank was full, so last weekend I emptied its little belly and counted my coins: $144. I took them to the bank the following day and put it through the coin counter: $144.05. I said to the teller, "That's not right, there weren't any five cents in there, only gold coins [meaning one or two dollars]". She shrugged and said there must have been a five cent piece stuck in the machine. Lucky me, five cents profit. The thing is, the same thing happened last time I emptied the piggy bank; I remember writing about it here. I am inadvertently perpetrating the slowest bank fraud ever.

(Speaking of fraud: a tip, f-list. My tax office newsletter advised that we should write out the year in full on finance documents this year. That is, write 1/1/2020, not just 1/1/20. Putting 20 leaves it too open to be altered to another year for nefarious purposes.)

I'm not sure if it's because it's a new year, or because I've been preparing for the new job, or perhaps both, but I've been cleaning out. Inbox zero. Tidy desk. Wardrobe clearcut. The piggy-bank was a happy coincidence. I'm thinking I might have to unsubscribe to a few podcasts; I've been listening to them on my solo days in the office, but I suspect there will be more people around at the city council.

Music resolution meme stolen from lady_bird

Get out your iPod (or something from the 2010s/2020s) and prepare to be amazed by the power of music to predict what you will, or should, do in the new year. Shuffle your playlist and set your controls for random play. Let it play a new, randomly selected song for each question and write down the title as your answer. Don't pick and choose — take the first song it gives you!

1. So, how would you best describe 2019?
"Like A Prayer" - Lavender Diamond

( And more in the same vein )

Yesterday was Australia's hottest day on record. It was officially 43°C in the City by the Sea, far from the epicentre of heat, but hot enough for all that. It reached 53°C in my back garden. (That's 127°F for Fahrenheit-minded readers. Or: too hot, on any scale.)

A storm rolled in overnight and today is only 17°C/62°F. Our weather is something of a rollercoaster at the moment.

This morning we toured the garden to see what survived the heat. Quite a lot, given the circs. My sunflower seedlings, in a tray under the verandah, were shrivelled last night, but revived by the morning. Not so the poppies in the front garden, whose petals flaked off. The fuchsia flowers survived, but all the leaves are brown and crispy. My yacon appears to have doubled in size, which is surprising. Despite being in the shade and covered with damp towels, many of the worms in the worm farm didn't make it. Neither did the kale, but that's no great loss.

Last Friday, 13 December, was the deadline for that job I applied for at the City by the Sea's council. They interviewed me on Monday afternoon. On Thursday morning, they offered me the job. I start on 13 January. That was all very quick and efficient. (I knew I had the job on Wednesday evening, when Old Boss called me and said, "If you don't get that job after all the lies I just told about how good you are..." I warned him it was only a maternity leave position, so he'll be called on to tell more lies about me for another job some time next year.)

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In non-work news: my gingerbread house is done. It won't pass any building safety inspections, but it tastes all right. I will say that chocolate is more forgiving as a construction medium than royal icing, but royal icing covers a lot of sins. Next year: I think I'll try a bûche de Noël.

Oh my stars and garters, f-list, there were scenes at work today. ABSOLUTE SCENES. Today the powers that be unveiled stage two of the great restructuring and... well, let's just say I'm now glad I was made redundant in stage one. Perfidy, treachery, plots!

In other news: Knives Out is terrific and you should all go and see it. And if you do, you can think to yourself whenever you see Jamie Lee Curtis, "Gosh, she looks exactly like todayiamadaisy's mother's cousin Julie." Because she does. Only taller.


Is it Jamie Lee Curtis? Or is it my mother's cousin Julie?

November books read

A slow reading month. I thought I'd finish another one by the end of the month, but got caught up in brooding about work instead. I'm on track to read fifty books this year unless I do too much more brooding.

* Rhapsody in Green - Charlotte Mendelson (2016) ★ ★ ★
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* The Book of the Year 2019 - No Such Thing As A Fish (2019) ★ ★ ★ ★
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