I don't really have anything to write, I just wanted to kick my brothers off the internet as revenge for not taping the DOUBLE EPISODE of Gilmore Girls last night. I know, I am a tragic person (and yes, I too want to take the ridiculously immature Loralei Gilmore and tell her that no woman in her thirties would act like that while banging her head into a wall), but I love my trashy tv. Definate escapism. And I need some of that given that I'm heading off for two days of bog tomorrow morning. I have to confess that I'm rather scared of getting lost again. Even though I didn't die (well, like, dah!) and came through ridiculously unscathed as everyone persists in pointing out I could have. And would have, if it had been earlier in the week, when it had been below 0. I had a little bubble of panic rise up into my throat earlier this week when I was out bogging alone and couldn't see the ute (I was facing the wrong direction - I know, I shouldn't be allowed out alone!). And tomorrow I have to go about a kilometre into the bush from the road on unmarked tracks. I will of course be taking all precautions - GPS reading of the ute's position, I'm taking a CDMA phone with me, and I'm planning on flagging every fifth tree with bright blue flagging tape. But just the thought of the humiliation I'll have to face if I have to ring up the Ranger Station or Emergency and say "Hi, I'm just out lost in the buttongrass." I'd have to drop out of uni. I couldn't face the scorn and incredulation of the department (WHAT! She got lost again?!). Plus I wouldn't be able to complete the field work component of my project as I'd never be let out of Hobart again, which therefore means no project and no degree. I'm also terrified of totalling the department ute. The department 4WD dual cab ute, actually. And it's a three hour drive on VERY windy roads up to Lake St Clair. I heaved a colossal sigh of relief when I finished my honours project without any ute mishaps. It is impossible for me to survive three more years without any incidents. So long as I don't have an actual accident - I can handle a bit of bogging. Lots of people have been bogged - the man who allocates the utes in my department has several photos on his wall of uni 4WDs bogged up to the roof. And I know that there's still a ute out from Geology pretty well buried in sand on the coast somewhere for the past 10 years. So, wish me luck as I venture forth into the bog again. Thanks for being so supportive Bug, even if you don't really understand my desire to stick around for another three years of uni. And I don't know about out-earning everyone - I'd be happy to have a real, full-time job. Most of the vegetation people I meet in Hobart are all on short-term contracts for the Government, or are freelance contractors, hiring themselves out. Way to chancy for sensible me! Oh, we had a trifector at work last night! Three Saturday nights in a row we've had an ambulance come and collect someone from our function! We had police, too, last night. Yay! Unfortunately it wasn't the hot paramedic. Oh well, maybe next week! Wow, considering I had nothing to write, this is very long! |
Of course I'm supportive, dork brain :) You are my bon ami! Or belle ami. Or something. Bosom buddies, as Anne and Diana would say (where's my Gilbert, though?) Whatever, you know what I mean. Shut up
Ring me as SOON as you get back though. I'll need to tell you all about the aftermath of Friday's work Chrissie dinner, both good and bad