Well I am living the bachelorette dream. House to myself, I can walk to work and I can be as messy and spread out as I humanely possible. It’s fantastic. I haven’t cooked a proper meal since Hennie left. I have been subsisting on frozen dinners (like good veggie/gluten free ones), toast, more toast and alcohol. I’m within walking distance to one of my favourite pubs as well. What awesomeness is this. Anyways, I don’t think I can keep it up though. I have forgotten what vegetables look like. I’ve put on at least 5 pounds. One night after coming home from the pub I was hungry and the only thing I had was refried beans and pasta so I put those together and covered it in ketchup, oh boy, good times. Bachelorette life!

I haven’t been to the Glebe Video since University. But I was still on file when I went back last week! Not on a computer system file but in an actual physical binder full of sheets of names. Back in Uni when we went in, we were high as kites and the owner commented on how good we smelled. Then, as I recall, we rented an early Ewan McGregor “art film” (porn) which was just weird (exactly why we rented it). It’s odd now when you have actual human interactions with someone when renting movies. Not just clicking stupid things in Netflix. Someone is actually going to pick up the DVD you are renting, discuss it with you and tell you about the director and what else he did. I knew this would happen so I put back the seriously crap videos, like the probably terrible Disney film starring Jon Hamm’s penis. I knew I would be judged High Fidelity style on my choices. I got an international film (that looked like porn), a Canadian film (starring Riggins from Friday Night Lights) and a modern classic British film (Pirate Radio-LOVE!). The gentleman behind the desk hand wrote my receipt while telling me all about the director of the film that looked like Euro smut and told me all about the other movies he did. He said the film was a raunchy romp and kind of winked at me. I nodded like I knew completely what he was talking about and pretended I wasn’t feelng awkward out by the smut comments. The whole experience felt right. Even when I walked into one of the little rooms featuring British Films and a couple was having the most quiet dry, boring conversation about film techniques. Then as I gauged how much I disliked the people being arty dicks my stomach made noises like my intestines were mauling my colon. I left the room because it was too awkward and pretentious to bear. But regardless of that, great experience!

So I got the manager position at my work! Yay!!! I waited with bated breath for the e-mail that announces it to everyone that works for the company, like EVERYONE! I hadn’t seen it by the time I left work that day so I hoped it was the next day. The day of my interview, walking to work, all I did was picture the e-mail, announcing in lights that I got the job. It was a big deal. So when I arrived at work the next day, at least three people laughed at me and then repeated my last name as I walked through the store. And I was like, what? Sure we ALWAYS make fun of my last name, everyone all the time. Buttrum. Body part and an alcohol. I kept in blatantly for comedic purposes, it gets a laugh. But something seemed different. So as I sat down to to read my e-mails, there it was, the announcement. Disappointment number one, she shared the e-mail to announce another girl’s promotion as well, not just me, wtf, where was my individualized glory! But even worse, when I opened it, I saw it immediately, the announcement that Angela Buttram had got the job. Oh jesus christ on a cracker. As if my name wasn’t bad enough, it went from body part and an alcohol to anal in one letter. Come on!!! There is no better way to rain on one’s promotional parade then to make them the laughing stock of the store and change their name to a weirdly worded rough sexual act. Ah life. After I read it one of my staff quickly ran in to warn me but I told them it was to late, I had seen it. My announcement e-mail dreams shattered, by one letter. Fuck.

Anyways, to back track a bit, my interview way amazing. I was channelling a confident, business savvy she goddess while going through my powerpoint presentation! I did not even know I had powerpoint on my computer until a week ago! Yay! But it’s a program for dummies so I could figure it out and added pictures and made it look half fancy. I was SO stupid amazing in my interview that at one point someone asked how I would accomplish it all and I think I glared at them and smuggly responded, “just watch me” and then in my head I did a Trudeau inspired pirouette. So of course I power killed the interview and got the job with flying colours. Then the next day I started to panic. I was looking at my power point thinking, I promised so much, SO much in that interview that now it was sinking in what I actually needed to accomplish. Where was the confident ball sacky she hero now? I talked myself off a ledge all day (I was overtired) because I was genuinely concerned that I had promised the moon to everyone and realized that I was not an astronaut nor a planet fisherman. I think I will even out, I think it will get better. Right? RIGHT?? No, it’ll be fine…?

Ewan in the Pillow Book