The Good: The end of Uni semester.
The day after I handed in my last essay, I bumped into someone I had just seen the week prior. They stopped me asking if I had just come back from holiday. Apparently I was glowing and looked really relaxed. They were shocked when I responded ‘no’. I then realised that my relaxed state must be because of the end of uni stress and pressure, well ‘the end’ until it starts again in August. Still, once second semester is over, it will be as if I have taken another holiday!!… which is kind of like having had two ‘holidays’ in a year… how very decadent of me!!! I suddenly feel very sated. I can’t recall ever having two holidays in year (Does going to Hobart twice in one winter (when I was retrenched) count?, it is only Hobart...).
The Bad: Having no idea, but thinking you do.
Sometimes, as my friends are well aware, I think I am 110% sure of something and will argue the point till I am blue in the face. I am sure you will not be surprised to hear that it often turns out that I am wrong…very often and often very wrong. The funny thing is, it’s usually about silly things, take for example a recent discussion.
I was at a friend’s house and had brought along an across-the-shoulder bag that I had purchased last year to use whilst travelling overseas. The bag has some great security features (slash proof, etc) and looks like a normal across-the-shoulder bag. One feature that I thought was impractical was the zip that zipped closed towards the back of me. Really, it should zip towards the front of me so that no one can walk behind me and try to unzip it and take stuff out of the bag. This was discussed and my friends agreed with me until….I stated that the reason that the bag zipped this way was because it was for American’s who are all as we know, left handed. They would obviously wear the shoulder bag on the other side and as such, it would zip closed towards the front of them… My friends responded with WTF? I then confidently and patiently explained my point again (thinking I was brilliant and was educating my poor unknowledgable friends), said friends stared at me silently for a few moments, I guess wondering who amongst them was going to be the one to burst my bubble of self delusion. We did all have a good laugh about it…Alarmingly though, I have been going around matter-of-factly saying that Americans are all left handed to so many people for so long now and I can be persuasive….
The Ugly: The cold sore.
With recent uni and other stresses, a cold sore erupted, jutting out from my left lower lip like an Easter Island statue. Work colleagues declared that it was hardly visible- ‘oh no, I wouldn’t have noticed it, unless you pointed it out’ etc… so yes, I work with liars, which was confirmed when I saw the cleaner at work later that day (who has limited English, coming from a non English speaking country). From 25 metres away she pointed accusingly at my lip and demanded ‘what’s that on your face?’ As she walked towards me with finger outstretched, I shat myself fearing the worst. Was she going to cast magic on me, or cast me out of the workplace? Insane thoughts ran through my brain, silenced only by her arrival in front of me. But then...then, her outstretched finger found my cold sore and started to rub it vigorously.
Her: ‘What is this?, It won’t come off!’
Me: (In a state of shock and horror, barely able to whisper) ‘wash your hands!’
Her: (annoyed) ‘My hands are clean!’
Me: (louder now, though still shocked and slightly paralysed) ‘No. You need to wash your hands’
Her: (becoming insulted by my command) ‘No! I washed them before, they are clean!’
She then pulled the cold sore rubbing finger away from me, only to then rub her own lip with it! Yes, sadly this is true. I have no idea why she rubbed her lip with the same finger.
I sighed heavily, letting out a barely audible ‘oh my god’. I turned and walked away, there was nothing more for me to do. My head hung low, as I made my way back to my desk. I was heavy with the knowledge that I have just passed on herpes simplex to someone else. I also regretted the fact that I didn’t grab her hand after she rubbed my cold sore, dragged her to the sink and insisted she wash her finger. But knowing my luck that would have started a physical brawl and between me and a 6ft tall, solid and strong African lady, no bets on who the winner would be.
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