There’s one thing that makes the work day go faster, and that’s Christmas music. Not trashy stuff you hear in shopping centres, though. I mean choirs singing in a cathedral, or kids from some prestigious academy. That’s the only thing that really make the hours tick by at this stage, because it’s way too close to Christmas and I’m still working. We don’t even get time off, either; we have to request days, and the boss isn’t happy about it. I asked for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day AND Boxing Day, wow, three days, imagine the horror. Boss wasn’t happy, the old Scrooge.
It’ll be nice to take time off though. If I have to hear about Derrick and his new girlfriend and how they’re hiring a professional conveyancer close to Highett and they’re just terribly snowed under with all this home hunting business. Yeah, packing boxes sucks, I get it. But you know what makes it a little bit better? Having a home to move into. Being employed in a job that doesn’t work you to the bone. Also, a girlfriend who looks like she’ll be joining the family before long. While you’re on the phone to the conveyancer, or sorting out your details in the office, you might want to think about that, Derrick. Some people live with their parents and can’t get out of a minimum wage position, Derrick. Gosh.
I wish I was meeting with a conveyancing solicitor, because that would mean my life is going somewhere. To be fair, Derrick does keep it to himself when we all meet up for Christmas; it’s not like he goes out of his way to torment me on the side. Fortunately we’ve both grown out of that sort of thing, like when he used to give me grief when we were younger. But I’ll hear snatches, about conveyancing lawyers and looking for an engagement ring. Sigh. Better than work.