stuck my nose briefly into work email to delete all the automated system alerts 'cos unless they’re alerting on Monday it’s not my fucking problem and a slew of emails in there of boss throwing client shit to me despite knowing I’m on holiday, complete with ranting customers about lack of response. This was also after he txtd me about a client site while not only on holiday, but literally on the way to a funeral.

Boss is in for a nasty shock when I straight up tell clients “yeah he shouldn’t have thrown that to me, I was on leave and he already has access to that information so I don’t know what the fuck he was thinking”. He’s in for an even nastier one when I charge him for that text I sent back telling him to fuck off at overtime rates, minimum one hour.

Indian food is on its way, cat is fed and brushed, my latest song is loaded in the studio ready for new parts and video game is picked out for later tonight.

Bliss.

Day 9 of my exercises completed. I actually did them this morning but haven’t had a chance to post about it until now. Normally I’d drop the kids off at school and write it on the bus on the way to work, but this morning I had the music bug and just wanted to flood my brain with loud hard rock music before I got there.

Still not drinking. I’m enjoying being a boring old fart and coming home after listening to heavy metal on the bus and having a cup of tea. However, today’s a special day… it’s “Fat Arse Friday” in my house, a recent tradition where we get door dash and eat brownies and ice-cream and naughty stuff on Friday when I come home. It’s our cheat/treat day and we look forward to it! So I’m off to have some Streets Blue Ribbon Vanilla icecream with salted chocolate caramel brownie, probably followed at some point by 🍔 & 🍟. Happy Friday evening everyone!

Starting early today as the weather demands. Cheers fellow zoo animals. 🍺🐒🦍🦓🦁🦏🐘🐨🐼🦚🦋🦒🦘

TGIF.

A photo from the walk to the tram stop ❤️

Just had to give some ‘constructive feedback’ to a team member about their recent performance and what they need to do to improve.

It had to be formal and diplomatic, not exactly my favourite approach but so be it.

Our internal policy is very much tailored in a way as to never come off negative and always show support.

It’s very difficult when dealing with an absolute moron.

I’ve accepted the fact I’m probably going to have to work until the day I die. Assuming I’m lucky enough to have sufficient health to do that.

- ah, nice

It sounds a bit like I’ve got waves crashing up against the house.

Was at the shops and overheard a discussion in which a lady kept pronouncing tempura as temp-YOU-ra. With the emphasis on the middle syllable.

Almost ruined my day

Dear whom it may concern. I’m having trouble with seeing replies. You see when it reaches 300 comments (which I make several on a Friday night 🤷‍♀️) replies collapse and when I click on the arrow the spinny thing spins its heart out but nothing happens. I am told it’s a server problem on your end. I have the latest Chrome so I know it’s not me. Please fix it.

Regards @CEOofmyhouse56@aussie.zone

Yesterday I posted my spag ‘n’ ease dinner so thought I’d share this story wif yous. Spaghetti bolognese is my husband’s favourite of all time. If I swap the spaghetti for another pasta, there’s disappointment.

So one day I made the bolognese and I burnt the fucker. I was so angry with myself. Told him that I was sorry and promised him I’d make another one the next day. He’s like “nah I’ll still eat it”. I explained that it’s horrible, unedible, burnt throughout. I left it on the stove to deal with it in the morning.

I woke up and looked in the pot and it’s gone. Like all gone. So I questioned him when he got home. He told me that he had taken it, added a shitload of chilli paste to it and that it was delicious. It had sat overnight and he ate it cold. I had no words.

How goods a random panic attack outta nowhere?! Had a relatively good day I thought, but all of a sudden I’m struggling to breath and my heart feels like it’s skipping beats. Bit of slow breathing and I’m good again, but like, wtf brain!? We’re good. There’s no threats here. Chill out.

Mrs B was a bit disappointed her slow cooked lamb wasn’t ready in the recipe’s time line. We had to have a frozen meal and leave the lamb overnight. Turns out we used a 2.8kg cut instead of the recommended 1.5kg. Oops.