Here is what you do not do if you've had a crying-in-the-toilets kind of a day

You DO NOT attempt to take a picture of yourself with your new haircut after you've had a glass of wine. It will end badly and you will feel sad; I took a lot of pictures, and none of them made me look even slightly human. It's OK though, my new haircut is the same as my old haircut, so it's not like there's much to see. As an additional tip: don't read a book that isn't Twilight at the hairdresser. Reading a book in the hairdresser's will make them make fun of you. I know this because hairdressers are not very bright and they tend to forget that mirrors reflect things so that, even though I'm facing away from you, I can still see you  behind me whispering to your little friend and pretending to open a book, while looking terribly amused.

What you could do instead of punching a size 6 bleached blonde high school drop out in the face is take the ferry home and stand outside, even though it's cold and rainy. It will make you feel much better about the world in general. Especially when you see some backpackers get splashed by a huge wave.

I've lived in Sydney for long enough now that I suppose it counts as being my entire life, but I still get a thrill out of going across on the ferry, especially when it goes through the heads and the sea is especially rough, as it was today. There's something so soothing about being out on the open water, away from crowds of people and traffic. Does anyone know how to get a job as a ferry captain? I'd even be first mate for a while, if necessary. They must be the happiest guys alive.

BTW, I'm quitting my job soon, so there will probably be fewer of these whiny posts and more posts about cake and monkeys. Actually, how can I combine those two things into a career? Monkey baker (as in baking for monkeys, not baking monkeys)! Perfect!

days

Do you have 'those days'? I have 'those days'. 

I consider myself to be a scrupulously rational person. I'll happily stand under a ladder and smash mirrors over a black cat without worrying about anything other than the fact the the RSPCA has me on file.

And yet. I have 'those days'. Maybe when I get up in the morning there's not enough coffee left and I have to stab myself in the leg with a fork just to wake up properly. Or maybe I've forgotten to wash the shirt I wanted to wear that day. Maybe it's that I make the mistake of reading the paper first thing and find out that some knuckle-dragging mouth-breather has decided to give Andrew-twat-face-arse-head-Bolt his own TV show (REALLY? This is a thing now?).

Whatever it is, sometimes I have those days where nothing seems to go quite right from the moment I wake up, and it feels as if the day is somehow doomed.I had one of those days today. Everything just felt wrong, right from the start, and just as I expected, I had the kind of day that is mildly inconvenient without actually being catastrophic. Today's unedifying parade of mediocrity consisted of;

• What should I wear today? (forty-five panicked minutes of costume changes later) Fuck it, the first outfit I tried on will do. Jo (trying to be helpful) 'wow, you sure like trying on clothes!' Me (in tones of rising hysteria) 'my legs don't look right in anything!' Jo; 'ummmm...'
• Bad Hair. Look like Worzel Gummidge. Straighteners only make it worse.
• Bus is thirty minutes late and my seat is buckled on the corner, which makes my back hurt.
• No replies to important emails at work. At a loose end. Sit around trying to look busy. Nod off in front of computer, try to make it look like intense concentration. Fail spectacularly. 
• Try to sublimate increasing sense of impotence at work into enjoyment of shopping. Shop does not have my size trousers. Why am I being punished for having lost weight? I am now AVERAGE size, and subsequently, can never find my size in any shop ever. Must lose/gain 10kg. 
• Go to library on lunch break. Everything I want is on loan.
• Lunch is unsatisfying because microwave at work is crap and because I feel pressured to let other people have a turn with the luke-warminator before I have heated my food to optimal temperature. Tepid zucchini gives me a stomach ache. 
• Brother makes dinner, forgets that I am vegetarian. Have toasted cheese for dinner. Everyone else has chicken.

Bluuuurgh.

New goal: stop whining

Don't worry, the maladjusted cynic you know and tolerate isn't going anywhere. But I am sick of hearing myself whine about how much I haaaaaate my job. So today I will be telling you about some other things.

First of all, these fun things from our trip to Canberra a few weekends ago;

You might have to zoom in a bit for this one

Also cheering me up this week; bits of conversations I have overheard on the street, which I can only hope made more sense in context;

• OH MY GOD! If there was a fire, I would, like, totally die.
• Man, that's so much better than ten burritos.
• It was so sad, we had to wrap each other in toilet paper 

All in all, it hasn't been a bad week. I'm starting to hate my job less. I am no longer terrified of the entertainingly unpredictable mood swings of my boss, and I have a work buddy to have my lunch with. I have been to some proper business meetings, like a real live grownup (one of them was with someone at the Art Gallery of NSW, and I have to admit I got a huge kick out of that). I have learned that, while on paper I work five days a week, Fridays are unofficially a write off. Everyone turns up late, we all have lunch in the pub, then we spend the afternoon doing as much work as we are capable after a lunchtime wine, then at four in the afternoon the drinks trolley comes round and we watch TV/play on the arcade games/trawl the internet etc, with impunity. I have learned that the currency of my office is Cheezles, and that if you get in the way of someone trying to get to the Cheezle bowl on a Friday afternoon, you will get your ass knocked down. And I have learned that I can get a later bus to work but still get to the office on time, meaning that I can sleep in for half an hour longer in the mornings.

If it wasn't for the actual work, I would be loving my job.