Whinging. How I met your father. Spirit Guides.

I feel sorry for M at the moment because I've been an anxious old harridan to live with.  I feel worried and grumpy and also miserable, sad and sick.

My worries are totally of the First World nature ie. they aren't really problems at all, but anyway.  I mainly have a gross general sense of worry and anxiety.  My upcoming return to work and also my recent issues with my job (loss of job security etc.) are stressing me the hell out. Amongst other things.

Anyway, suffice to say I am a nightmare to live with at the moment.  Sorry for the whinge, but I did say this was a place to vent my spleen.  So consider my spleen vented.

Thinking about poor old M and his harridan wife (ie. me), and also thinking about jobs and job interviews etc., I was reminded of the first time he and I ever met.

I was flying up to Rockhampton for a job interview at the uni there.  Rockhampton is noteworthy for its status as "Beef Capital of Australia" and has lots of public art dotted around the place.  All the public art looks like variations on this theme...

It is traditional for high spirited scamps to steal the bulls' testicles and retain them as trophies, perhaps in a form of primitive fertility rite. [Source]

Anyway it was going to be my very first ever proper professional job and I was VERY VERY nervous.  I had a new pants suit, bought at great expense from classy joint Cue. The flight itself was uneventful and I arrived safely, and walked over the tarmac and into the arrivals lounge.  I knew that someone was going to be there to pick me up, and it seems M had been designated the job.  I can't remember how on earth he knew who I was.  It would have obviously been the sensible thing to do to hold up a little sign with my name on it but I am absolutely sure that he didn't, I think that he just sort of sidled up to me and obviously hoped for the best.  I guess I probably stood out amongst the burly mine workers and so forth.  Anyway he was right, it was me, and we began to walk out to the carpark.

And then I TOTALLY STACKED IT.  Big time.  I fell right over on the bitumen, and almost onto my face.  I grazed my hands and my knees through my classy pants suit.  Thank goodness I hadn't chosen a skirt or the result could have been worse in EVERY CONCEIVABLE WAY.  I looked up to see M's horrified face staring down at me.  This was quite possibly the worst and most embarrassing thing that could ever have happened on the morning of a big interview.  I was shaking and wanted to cry so badly but instead I sprung to my feet, brushed myself off and laughed hysterically, while on the inside I was screaming "I want my MUMMMY!".  I strode off with the still horrified and deeply embarrassed M coming after. I could tell he was thinking "I cannot believe that she just did that.  I always get lumped with the lunatics."

Anyway we got into the car and set off, me picking the gravel out of my palms and blinking crazily to make sure my humiliation was not compounded by any pathetic tears dribbling down my nose.  I continued to cover my shame with hysterical laughter and by bombarding him with Amusing Anecdotes as is my wont.  The atmosphere was just starting to calm as we drove closer to the university, when suddenly a huge pink galah flew out in front of the car  followed by the most enormous ginger cat you've ever seen.  We heard a nasty "THUMP!", and M screeched to a halt.

Two galahs.  Not a photo of M and I.  [Source]

"Oh God, oh God, oh God," he moaned, leaning his head onto the steering wheel.  "Oh God the poor bird.  Is it alright? Oh my girlfriend is going to KILL me, she loves animals, oh GOD."

I sat silently clutching my suit jacket, already thinking about the time we had wasted during my tumble.

"Should I get out and check on it?" he asked.

"Ummmm...." I said, taking a sneaky look at my watch. "Yesss.......um,  the POOR THING, but, you know, shouldn't we be getting to my interview, it's getting on a bit......".

"I think I should..." he said. "Yes, I'm going to get out and check on it.  The cat will get it!"

"Oh, ok...but you know, the TIME, my INTERVIEW!" I was getting a bit panicky.  He looked at me in disgust.

"It could be hurt!" he said, disapprovingly.  Just then, thank goodness, the bird seemed to dust itself off and almost fly up from underneath the tyre wheel and off into the bushes.

"Oh GOOD!" I shouted.
"I mean, look, it's fine, it's going to be alright.  The TIME, you know, my INTERVIEW!"

"That cat will get it," he muttered under his breath.  "My girlfriend will kill me."

"My interview...." I rejoined with, sullenly.  He shot me a look, and started the car again.

Luckily we made it, and after he had delivered me to the interviewers, he disappeared and I didn't see him for the rest of the day.  People could come and watch my presentation, but he chose not to.

He had the job of driving me back to the airport, and on the way he had obviously been coerced into giving me a tour of the sights, which he grudgingly did.  As he dropped me at the airport, I knew he was thinking "God I hope that's the last we see of that heartless madwoman, she is CRAZY and CRUEL and TALKS WAY TOO MUCH and is POORLY COORDINATED!"

But I got the job and moved to Rocky for a bit.  I even had to write an article on the experience for a library newsletter, and came up with this sort of Tony Bennett tribute poem...

I left my heart in Rockhampton

High on a hill, Mt Archer calls to me

To be where big beef cows

Stand in concrete rows!

And the morning fog will chill the air (and prevent

my Jetstar flights from taking off on time).

It took us a LONG time after the aforementioned events took place to get our shit together, but Reader, I eventually married him.  And here I am still.  Mwahahaha....I guess M can't really complain that I am a grumpy madwoman because I was from the get go.

Gratuitous shot of us flaunting our youth back in the day.

Although, to be fair, the whole incident provided him with excellent material for his wedding speech, and allowed him to make such amusing jokes as "She really FELL FOR ME the first time we met", and so on.  So really he's got nothing to complain about.

And I don't know what became of that ginger cat or the galah.  Perhaps they were spirit guides sent with a message for us, like Homer Simpson and his space coyote.

The space coyote told Homer to "find his soul mate".  I guess the galah and the cat were telling us that we'd just found ours and didn't even know it.