Day 92

Today was actually too cringy to write...

It started with me going into Kelvin Grove early to finally do the forensics quiz, for which the first attempt was doomed last monday. It was pathetically easy, making my 3 huge A3 sheets look so unnecessary and over the top. Still, at least i've got a nice poster on human rights and the brutal murders of aboriginal women to brighten up my wall :/ Being the faithful slave that i am, i had offered to print off some sheet music for Rachel who was popping around Danye's to use their rare Brisbane-made piano. The guy in teh queue for the printer looked all impressed at my forensics notes followed my mozart... or whatever it was; I just stood there, relishing the moment that i looked like a musical genius and not admitting it took my a good 5 minutes to understand which way up the sheets should go :p

Things went pretty downhill from there, when i bought my granny trolley from Kelvin Grove. $20, maroon-pink colour complete with polka dot lid...all other options were some variation on brown and tartan. After 2 buses not turning up, i almost collapsed on Forrest Street due to the heat. (even Brad and Rosemaree admitted it was hot today though, and thankfully put the fan on without laughter!). Rachel had popped down to Brookside to get some essentials for traveling and had been attacked by a magpie... 5 times (she has to beta me :p) so lunchtime started with a sandwich bag filled with googly eyes :D

Brad and I then brought the rest of the pamphlet delivery around to teh back of the house - this time requiring an actual... metal thing to stack the boxes onto and wheel down the garden... at breakneck speed. Brad then offers to lead a car conovoy out to my dleivery area so i can plan my route of delivery. Well, i can tell why it's called Everton Hills now. HILLS AS IN PLURAL AS WELL. Rosemaree is driving us around every bend, counting all the houses so i know how to break the dleiveries up into chunks. Rachel, who came along just to post a letter, is feeling carsick from all the tight twists and turns and hills worthy of seaworld's most violent rollercoaster and we soon lost Brad in his ute.

Back to the house, Brad is going on about the logistics of delivery to such terrain, in military style, so much so that Rosemaree bans him from the deck. From his OWN DECK, unless he 'has positive things to say and a pamphlet in his hand'. So with a long trestle table set up on the deck (normally used for markets),, Rosemaree and I set up a conveyer belt operation of gather SIXTEEN different pamphlets and securing them in elastic bands. Running out of elastic bands, Brad is given a free pass to cross the deck to fetch some more and Peter who turns up to play with Darcy is enlisted in the slave labour camp. Rosemaree is about to round up 'some refugees who live up the top of the hill'(!) when we finally reach the bottom of the piles. The deck is covered. I start filling up my granny trolley to realise it only holds THIRTY SIX PACKS. And i need TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY FOUR. MY camping rucksack is next (or called knapsack here) only to fail at a dismal forty packs... which in turn break aboout 4 vertebrae when i attempted to lift it.

Houston, we have a problem. I only have Rosemaree's chauffeur service this week, as it is mid-semester break. I am signed up for 7 weeks. It had already taken us THREE HOURS to sort and secure the packs of pamphlets... i have circles on my wrists from elastic bands, a bloodshot eye when an elastic band too small for the bundle fired off at me and about 10 papercuts... JUST ON ONE FINGER.

Brad's standing there, huffing and puffing from the safety of the screen door and Rosemaree has cancelled her plans with Danye to help me with this first mid-week delivery. But it is not going to happen. So because i am such a chicken, Rosemaree rings up my distributor Elmarie and explains the situation, saying that i shouldn't have been given Everton Hills area when they knew i didn't have a car and when i am only part time. When given the choice of completing this delivery or just getting them to collect the pamphlets, i just want to cry. So 30 minutes later, I find Darcy and Peter dealing with a bemused delivery man who's trying to locate me through the HUGE AMOUNT (284 x 16) of pamphlets covering 3 tables on the deck, 2 chairs and 3 cardboard boxes. The pamphlets take 16 journeys between us to load into the back of his car, filling his entire boot and half of the back seat. I'm sure he couldn't see out the window as he fled forrest street before Brad returned from the city. The worst thing? When Rosemaree warned Elmarie that the pamphlets may get wet if we leave them by the garage for collection, she replied saying that doesn't matter as they;re just going to be recycled anyway. Elastic bands and all, apparently. Rosemaree summed it up with the F word :@ I then got a brotherly teasing from Peter and Darcy who joked, oh so funnily, that at least they could learn from me that pamphlet delivery wasn't worth the money.

So, after dying from embarassment, they resurrected me (with delcious mince wraps) only so i could witness Rachel having a physical asthma attack from laughing so much. And reminding me that from this entrepenurial job venture, i am actually $23 down with only a spare bag of tiny coloured elastic bands and a polka dot granny trolley. :'(

I've provided Rosemaree with the worst homestay anecdote of all time and yet still she's smiling (and Brad, though his is leaning more towards laughter :p) and rang julia about a possible book-keeping job during this holiday. Am absolutely knackered, with my back throbbing and my cheeks still beetroot-red. No idea how I'll get any dignity back after this most recent step on a bloody huge learning curve!