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Toasted and roasted
18/08/2004 11:44 pmThe new cost cutting and penny pinching roster started at work today and Izzie has had her firsty pissy little four hour shift starting at 5pm in about three years. It was wonderful having pretty much the whole day for pottering around and wasting time listening to some old crow squawking about strategic planning and zero based budgets but it won't be so much fun when pay day comes around once again and there's a big black hole where a bunch of silver sickles used to be. Now that will definitely be an occasion for working on a big fat ZERO based budget
Iz is getting a bit peeved with the fact that it is now 6 weeks ago since she caught the 'elephant' bug and still has not gotten over it. Only two days have passed since 2nd July or thereabouts where Izzie has not had a sore throat or just found everything to be so intolerably loud and irritating. Must somehow manage to get to a doctor and see if all the wiring and bits and pieces are in full working order.
It was not helped by an incident over at the ma's place on Sunday night. The ma has one of those nice toasty wheat filled bean bag thingies that you heat in the microwave as a bedwarmer. Gone are the days of the good old hot water bottles. Instead of heating it for a few minutes at a time and testing to see if it's warm enough, she decides to cheat and zap it for a whole five minutes at once to get it over and done with. She took the thing out and it smelled rather like burnt toast. But then it started smoldering and she tossed it outside with a wet towel on top. But not before the kitchen, laundry and computer room were filled with the most vile smell of smoke. Reminded Iz of an incident almost exactly 15 years earlier (9 August 1989 to be exact) when the flaky bitch Frau Poggendorf that Iz had the misfortune to be sharing a house with decided to fry some tasty morsels of liver for her precioussss Trixie doggie. Senile old bat that she was, she promptly forgot about it and it was only when the putrid odour had set off a dozen smoke alarms and circulated to the main part of the nursing home next door that anyone realised what was wrong. The whole house was filled with a vile blue haze and poor Izzie had nowhere else to stay so had to spend the night in her stunk out bedroom.
Well, Izzie spent some time on the computer and then snuggled up into the nest only to wake up in the middle of the night from the most awful nightmare. Iz dreamed she was at work and had to go out the back to the bins and there she seen a box with a smouldering bag of wheat in it that suddenly burst into bright blue, pink and purple flames. Was able to get to the door but it was so windy that the Iz was frozen on the spot and unable to move and even worse when she tried to scream out for help - where her voice should have been was nothing but a silent squeak.
But it was so so real. Almost like that nasty dream several years ago where the Iz almost got kissed by dementors. But instead of waking up frozen to the bone in the middle of summer, shivering and all that - this time it was a cold morning but Iz was all hot and flustered.
So obviously the poor green cells had spent the night absorbing this nasty stinking smoky smell and trying to make the best sense of it that they could. I guess this feeling of being paralyzed was simply caused by being asleep and having the relevant buttons for running and screaming like hell being switched off. The mind is a strange thing indeed.
But when the Iz finally did get up, followed soon after by the ma - she went outside and found that the bag was totally black and like charcoal and the wet towel had only a small remnant remaining.
The fact that the ma had considered leaving the damned thing in the laundry and only the smell persuaded her otherwise - does not bear thinking about.
She visited the Izzie today and related the rest of this rather sad saga. After I'd left on the broomstick to go to work, she tossed the blackened remnants into the bin and it was only twenty minutes later looking out the window that she seen strange black ominous wisps emanating from the bin.
They brought over a new table for the Iz and she says to the pa "Take a good long look at this table for this is the last time that you'll see a single square inch of it that isn't covered in books!" Yesss. Izzie's terrible pack rat tendencies are legendary.
Izzie must be going. Need to check up about 'A certain maritime incident' as part of the preparation for Friday's attempt at impersonating "Honest" John Howard (Also known as the Prime Mendacious and King Georges' deputy sheriff)
Iz is getting a bit peeved with the fact that it is now 6 weeks ago since she caught the 'elephant' bug and still has not gotten over it. Only two days have passed since 2nd July or thereabouts where Izzie has not had a sore throat or just found everything to be so intolerably loud and irritating. Must somehow manage to get to a doctor and see if all the wiring and bits and pieces are in full working order.
It was not helped by an incident over at the ma's place on Sunday night. The ma has one of those nice toasty wheat filled bean bag thingies that you heat in the microwave as a bedwarmer. Gone are the days of the good old hot water bottles. Instead of heating it for a few minutes at a time and testing to see if it's warm enough, she decides to cheat and zap it for a whole five minutes at once to get it over and done with. She took the thing out and it smelled rather like burnt toast. But then it started smoldering and she tossed it outside with a wet towel on top. But not before the kitchen, laundry and computer room were filled with the most vile smell of smoke. Reminded Iz of an incident almost exactly 15 years earlier (9 August 1989 to be exact) when the flaky bitch Frau Poggendorf that Iz had the misfortune to be sharing a house with decided to fry some tasty morsels of liver for her precioussss Trixie doggie. Senile old bat that she was, she promptly forgot about it and it was only when the putrid odour had set off a dozen smoke alarms and circulated to the main part of the nursing home next door that anyone realised what was wrong. The whole house was filled with a vile blue haze and poor Izzie had nowhere else to stay so had to spend the night in her stunk out bedroom.
Well, Izzie spent some time on the computer and then snuggled up into the nest only to wake up in the middle of the night from the most awful nightmare. Iz dreamed she was at work and had to go out the back to the bins and there she seen a box with a smouldering bag of wheat in it that suddenly burst into bright blue, pink and purple flames. Was able to get to the door but it was so windy that the Iz was frozen on the spot and unable to move and even worse when she tried to scream out for help - where her voice should have been was nothing but a silent squeak.
But it was so so real. Almost like that nasty dream several years ago where the Iz almost got kissed by dementors. But instead of waking up frozen to the bone in the middle of summer, shivering and all that - this time it was a cold morning but Iz was all hot and flustered.
So obviously the poor green cells had spent the night absorbing this nasty stinking smoky smell and trying to make the best sense of it that they could. I guess this feeling of being paralyzed was simply caused by being asleep and having the relevant buttons for running and screaming like hell being switched off. The mind is a strange thing indeed.
But when the Iz finally did get up, followed soon after by the ma - she went outside and found that the bag was totally black and like charcoal and the wet towel had only a small remnant remaining.
The fact that the ma had considered leaving the damned thing in the laundry and only the smell persuaded her otherwise - does not bear thinking about.
She visited the Izzie today and related the rest of this rather sad saga. After I'd left on the broomstick to go to work, she tossed the blackened remnants into the bin and it was only twenty minutes later looking out the window that she seen strange black ominous wisps emanating from the bin.
They brought over a new table for the Iz and she says to the pa "Take a good long look at this table for this is the last time that you'll see a single square inch of it that isn't covered in books!" Yesss. Izzie's terrible pack rat tendencies are legendary.
Izzie must be going. Need to check up about 'A certain maritime incident' as part of the preparation for Friday's attempt at impersonating "Honest" John Howard (Also known as the Prime Mendacious and King Georges' deputy sheriff)
