SATURDAY
Is a mighty depressing day to be spending in ones office, writing. Managed to crank out over 700 words today, which I emailed to my Dad for safekeeping. I still have very little faith in my computer, even though it hasn't had a tanty for a good two days now.
Tamara is leaving. One of my best mates is buggering off to Melbourne, armed with her boyfriend, a camera, a portfolio and some phenomenal photographic talent.
Much like myself, Tamara has spent the last few years doing the old hospitality thing, means to an end and all that, but shes finally going to be rid of it. Good on her I say, in fact I'm insanely jealous and would love to not have to spend my weekends being nice to complete bastards who think that just cos you're a waitress you have an IQ equivalent to a squashed pea, and that you are a lesser person than them. Not that I get anyone like that where I work now!! (potential employers please take note of demonstrated employee loyalty)
So I will soon be Tamara-less. I've got to respect her for doing it though, I really wish that I had the where-with-all to get up and go, but I've got this pesky thesis to finish. Not that I don't love what I'm doing now, cos I do, but everytime ones friend's leave, one is reminded of what one is not doing. One day when I have a smashing job saving the world, after fixing a few other things first, I can spend my days flitting around the world, visiting all my friends scattered across the globe. Of, course, thats also once I've married Dream Guy.
Hmmmm. Go, unrealistic expectations!!!!