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Sunday, February 17, 2013

painful knee | trigger happy


No, no, please don't leave. This is still the same blog, just been high time for a new look. Come in and sit you down.

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part one: painful knee

I ignored work and spent  this weekend working in the garden instead. Last week I diligently showed up at work out of turn on Saturday to try and catch up on important things that I'd left by the wayside during the week - only to be accused of dishonesty by the boss early on Monday morning. Apparently I printed and handed over 50 wedding invites and matching envelopes to a client without expecting him to pay. It'd be very interesting to know what I was supposed to have gained from the deal. Fact is, he paid what he owed and I have a credit card slip to prove it.

Trying to explain only made Wendy call me passive aggressive (again) and she simply refused to buy my explanation. It was an especially stressful week at work with that particular flaming sword held over my head; passive aggressive ass that I am, though, I came to the decision that hell will bloody freeze over before I try to catch up on work on a Saturday again when it is not my turn to work.

I still don't know if the painful knob on my right hand knee surfaced because of the stressful, hectic work environment and the abuse endured by the people employed there, or if my body is simply ageing badly. In the end I think the origin of the painful swelling comes down to the fact that I am attempting to carry the equivalent of a two tonne truck on a chassis that was made to accommodate a single tonne only.

I am almost fourty so I am allowed to complain.

On the subject, I often wake up with no feeling in my right arm. The same thing happens every morning when pushing Flymo beyond all physical limits in order to purvey my baby elephant a$$ to a thankless job down Pretoria Road.  

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part two: trigger happy

So, working in the garden yesterday entailed mowing the lawns which were carelessly neglected last weekend because I was at goddamned work. I also had to trim two frangipani branches which were hanging over the wall of the frightening neighbour.

I guess it's not very politically correct calling myself trigger happy considering shocking events in recent local news. I confess that I only sported a small handsaw but after trimming the frangipani I violently attacked the silent agave(-ish) in the northeastern corner of our property and hacked down three of its four trunks. I laid them to rest upon the soft, manicured lawns for the night.


After a harrowing night filled with nightmares, night sweats and heartburn, I energetically chopped up the messy lot this morning and carelessly tossed their junk onto the compost heap, there to slowly rot.

Written by I  

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