Sheridan’s Blog

Physically I’m not there yet. Mentally, I have left work and am on the plane.

Today on the 109 from Box Hill to the city, just as I was getting myself seated, a guy who was sitting on the floor began playing his guitar and singing. And he was doing so very nicely, not drunk or asking for money. I thought this was fantastic, but everyone else just looked really uncomfortable. The thought made me sad. When did someone doing something so natural make everyone so uneasy? And why? So I sat there, completely exposed – no mobile phone or iPod to hide behind, and hummed along. Very quietly. I wish I would go and sit down with him and we could sing all the way until the end of the line (and back, since I still had to attend work.)

I’ve been at the piano, I have a bitching tune. It is so littered with hooks that there are probably fish being caught right this instant. But I have no words. None. In fact, when I sit to write the lyrics, I have nothing to write about. They say that the best songs come from heartache, but I don’t have any of that either (I am quite literally the luckiest girl alive). And I know it. This is Bad News for songwriting. It’s almost worth initiating a fight over…

Somebody throw me a bone, anonymously if necessary. If I can get the music up on this site, I will. And then it’s up to you. We’ll split the profits, I promise.

It’s been Friday every day this week (except for yesterday, which was actually Thursday). I blame daylight savings, which I adore, but it seems to have thrown me around a bit. Does make getting up early less fun, but staying up late more tolerable (or virtually unavoidable).
This week I have done all the things I always do – work, watch a lot of SATC, and gym. I have fallen off the gym bandwagon after a series of events which indicate to me that maybe I should give it a rest. The first of which is me not being motivated enough to go. But when I do go, strange things happen…like the drunk guy who had stolen a real estate sale sign from someone’s yard and was trying to sell me a property (which was apparently sold to me). This was prior to 7 in the morning. It’s much too early for that kind of serious sale.
Then there was the crazy lady at the gym. I’m sure there’s heaps of crazy people at the gym, and it’s likely I am one of them. But I am me, so I don’t care. Well, I normally try to get a locker away from the hordes so I don’t have to accidentally look at someone’s breasts or anything else unfortunate. But this day, although I was one of only a handful in the locker room, some lady decides she’d like the locker right next to mine. And all the while we’re changing and doing the pre-workout ritual, she’s talking away to herself like she’s having a self-argument or something. The kind of self-dialogue one usually reserves for to oneself, in one’s own head. I did check – she wasn’t wearing a headset or bluetooth or any other device that I could see. I think she was just having a little chat to herself. That was the day I didn’t do any stretching because she was in the stretching ‘zone’. I can stretch in my sleep, anyway.

Twas only a day or two after crazy lady that one of my colleagues snapped at me at work. It’s not the snapping that upset me – more the object of said snap. Apparently I talk to myself nearly all day long. Excluding the times I’m on the phone, when I’m doing something else equally annoying (which we’ll discuss shortly). Now I don’t seriously remember talking to myself in a constant stream all the time, but apparently this occurs. And I don’t think I’m just muttering inane suggestions, I think I’m commentating. In fact, sometimes people will start laughing if I’ve said something funny. It has crossed my mind to implement some kind of cover charge for people coming within 2 metres of my desk. I thought about trying to become more aware of this habit, but on later contemplation, I decide that I like it and if other people don’t then they should get ear plugs or move further away. In fact, I should probably get my own office. That will also stop the bitching about my constant clicking of the mouse button when I am on the phone. What is a button for if not to be clicked?

In point form – the bad things that happened this week:

-Had to work at all three work sites, resulting in mental meltdown and thereby revealing my previously well-concealed lack of knowledge of my colleague’s names;
-Ate too much top deck chocolate and felt unwell. Washing it down with coke didn’t help.
-Got fake tan all over bathroom when phone rang and I then forgot to return and clean up the mess;
-Called a woman a man at work (over the telephone) again;
-Wrote a Miley-Cyrus-style song with a missing chorus (and suspect lyrics);
-Was surrounded by people who say ‘anythink’ instead of ‘anything’. I’m willing to bet they’re the ones who also say ‘Safeways’ instead of ‘Safeway’. Gggrrrrr…

Good things that happened this week:

-Got to work at all 3 work sites, where I basically did nothing useful all week and had no one bother me as none of them can remember my name;
-Ate a moderate amount of top deck chocolate and still fit into all clothing;
-Applied an excellent fake tan to me and bathroom;
-Was mistaken multiple times for someone else on the phone but rather than correct, continued to bluff my way through in a most convincing manner;
-Wrote an ace song that will surely be appreciated by 15 year-old girls;
-Have broadened my vocabulary with new words, one of which is ‘Asked’ (pronounced ‘aksed’). Also managed to slide the word ‘quandry’ into a sentence over the phone, and call my boss ‘dude’ and ‘man’ over 4 times in one phone conversation.
-Was not fired for any of the above.