Five-Hundred Word Challenge 203: Just Some Writing

This morning I was going to write about my final falling out with the Commonwealth Bank of Australia, but I think I need more time to ruminate on the situation before I actually do write about it as it’s something that I want to be more considered and (possibly) thoughtful so it reads more as an explanation of events rather than an angry tirade, which is what it would be if I were to write about it right now, so instead this post is going to be about something else.

Something else is an interesting thing. It’s not quite what you’d normally expect to see in the winter’s dawn on a foggy day.

It’s not what you’d expect will rise from the ocean and take your well-made sandwich away from you.

I don’t know as to what I’m going on about, so I think I’m going to stop.

This morning will feature walking with Ewe as well as judicious eating at a café whilst reading a book.

It might just also feature me waking up properly and writing something of note for a change instead of churning out the tripe that seems as though it is refusing to end as it doesn’t want to give its passing definition by allowing for a middle and end to be viewed, as for some reason I’ve more tripe to write than anything of quality.

I guess that’s the way my life is right now, although it isn’t. Or is it?

Who knows?

It might help me out a bit if I go outside sooner rather than later so I can experience the wonder of the sunlight on my face as I squint as they’re having trouble adjusting to the new amount of light that is more natural than the light coming from my computer, as well as the lights coming from the lights that are embedded into the ceiling of my bedroom as for some reason eyes seem to have an easier time with artificial light, although I’m probably incorrect in saying that as the likely case is that they have a harder time adjusting to natural light due to being deprived of it for periods of time that are far too long.

Perhaps I don’t know what the actual reason for it is and I’m merely theorising, despite it being easy enough to find out what the reason would be seeing as I have access to the Internet, but then again maybe I want to keep it a mystery, although the real reason would be that I cannot be bothered trying to find out so I’m going to pretend that the reason is that I want to keep it a mystery, as that helps me save face, or something.

I’m feeling rather peckish right now.
I’m also feeling rather tired.

The question then becomes, do I eat or head outside and start doing stuff that I want to get out of the way?

Better yet: Do I start working on something well-written?

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 07:55:92

Happy with the speed but not the quality.

Written at home.

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Mort Bay

Here’s a shot of Mort Bay.
Well, some of it instead of the entirety.

I think that this gives a decent idea of the size of the bay. It’s an appreciable size.

I like that the clouds aren’t evenly spread out across the sky.

I also like that there’s a minor contrast between the city and the suburban area.

I hope you enjoy.

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Aggressive Behaviour from a Valued Customer

Yesterday was ANZAC day, an important day that I won’t get into the details of as I may have in the past and I don’t feel that anyone needs to hear me go on about how I think certain behaviour on the day is highly disrespectful to those that we are remembering, regardless of your stance on war.

Yesterday I was at work, assisting customers as one does when it comes to customer service.

Actually, I heard that in customer service you’re meant to be paid when you’re hungover and sleeping at your desk, so maybe I was doing the wrong thing.

Anyway…

Aside from the first ninety minutes of the day, it wasn’t too busy which was nice. Most of the calls were really brief and pertaining to whether something was open on ANZAC day. In and out.

There was one particular customer who exemplified everything I just love when it comes to basic respect for a customer service representative.

They were asking about the possibility of delivery for a product I told them that we couldn’t get the item delivered on the day but I would check to see how soon we could get it delivered to them, as it depended on where they lived.

As they wanted their item sooner rather than later, I suggested that it would be quicker for them to go into a store and collect it there.

I’m not sure as to why, but then they said “You can go and get yourself fucked”.

I wasn’t sure that I heard them correctly as the line was muffled, so I asked for clarification, to which they were more than happy to oblige and repeated themselves.

I asked them as to why and they said something along the lines of “Because you can go fuck yourself”.

I should have terminated the call at this point, but instead I told them that I didn’t think that what they said was very appropriate, advised them the cost of delivery for a delivery on the following day, then once more suggested it would be quicker to go into store, then the call ended.

I don’t think that saying what this wonderful person said is appropriate when someone offers a superior solution to your insignificant predicament. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with doing a little legwork if it means you get what you want much faster.

I also don’t think that getting aggressive at someone will make them get you what you want.

I think that this ties into customer entitlement. You’re not entitled to what you want to hear. You’re entitled to a solution that best works for you. If you don’t like it, that’s your problem. You don’t have the right to tell someone that they can go and get themselves fucked.

Don’t be an asshole. Instead, be respectable.

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Scarborough Approaches and Leaves Balmain Wharf

Whilst I was walking around the area that this photo was taken in, I had an opportunity to get a good shot of this ferry.

I like that it obstructs part of the view as it feels a bit more natural to me.

Beyond that, I think that these make for nice photos as they’ve a nice balance of colour and light.

I hope you enjoy.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 202: Nothing was out of the Ordinary

It was another regular morning. Nothing was out of the ordinary. It was as it had always been and nothing new would occur. Routine was not a necessity, but it was how everything seemed to fall into place and to imagine a life without it at this point was simply a preposterous thought that dared not try to penetrate the mind of our protagonist, lest it be summarily discarded with prejudice and never allowed to be even be allowed near anything that could be considered rational decision.

Seeing that they were getting out of bed, the walls greeted our protagonist through their regular convulsions and reshaping. With a yawn and a mumble, our protagonist returned the gesture as they slowly shuffled their way to the bathroom to have a shower.

The sun rose as it always did. Whilst in their state of bathing, the protagonist wondered to themselves the amount of sunrises they had seen and whether they had seen enough or too many for that week. Surely the sun would not begin raining bricks upon the earth if they provided a little bit of neglect, but then again it was a risk that they did not want to take, so the protagonist resolved to watch the sun melt into the sky once more in the coming mornings instead of daring to sleep in and gain the rest that they so readily required due to the burden of being born a creature that needed sleep.

It wasn’t long before breakfast was had and clothes were wielded upon the body of our protagonist. It wasn’t much longer before they were outside and making their way to their required destination.

On their horse they hopped and soon it slid along into the morning traffic. It didn’t seem busier than usual, as it was as it had always been. Nothing out of the ordinary.

The commute always seemed to take less time than it did, despite all the traffic that caused regular starts and stops.

Eventually our protagonist reached the point where the horse would have to be left behind as they were unable to traverse the loose gravel hills that prevented easy journey into the woods.

Traversing alone, they made their way up and down the various inclines as the sky peeled back to reveal a blue that only the ocean could imagine. Clouds drifted on their wings as they flew in unison toward the farther reaches of the land in order to congregate and form a ring around whatever area they decided required some sort of watering.

Once in the woods the sky became blotted with the trees that bent their tops in order to make sure that the ground remained shaded enough for various creatures lacking bodies could scuttle about on all the limbs they could forcibly plant on the ground.

When it reached total darkness, our protagonist spotted a burning light that was approaching.

Our protagonist pushed on and, when facing the flaming body, they greeted them.

“Hello, mother”.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 10:00:98

An almost nice speed.

Anyway…

So I resolved to just write something and not care as to how much sense it made and this is the end result.

It’s a lot less surreal than I thought it would be, which is to say that I don’t think it’s surreal.

Written at home.

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Sydney Opera House in the Afternoon

Well, I’ve taken pictures of Sydney Opera House before.
Here’s another one.

This shot looks a little odd to me. I think it might be due to the reflection of the bridge, although I can’t be entirely sure that that is indeed the case.

It might be how the colour is balanced. Maybe it’s the band of clouds. I’m not sure.

I think that the shot is alright. I’ve certainly taken better. Still, it is pleasant.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

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Hungover at Work

I have no sympathy for hungover people.

I think that if you’re going to drink to the point where you spend a good chunk of the following day wrecked, you don’t really deserve sympathy from anyone unless you legitimately didn’t know the risks.

Now, whilst I don’t have sympathy for hungover people, I have neither sympathy nor respect for people who are hungover and then come to work to not do work and get paid for not doing work.

I can’t respect someone who thinks that that is okay to do.
You need money? Okay. Maybe, just maybe you shouldn’t go out and get really wasted and then come into work and not do your job. Maybe in doing that you’ll end up with the money you need to earn.

It’s just an idea that might have tangible results. Just a thought.

Going out and getting wasted is fun, but maybe it shouldn’t come at the expense of others.

I’ve gone to work after sleeping on a beach. This was a little over ten years ago. I was in Manly with a bunch of people that I knew at the time and we ended up sleeping on a beach. We woke up early and walked a long way back to Manly Wharf. I headed into work. I wasn’t hungover but I was quite tired.

After about two hours I went home because I wasn’t able to do my job well with as little sleep as I had.

I’ve seen people come into work with a hangover and still work. To them they have my respect because they’re putting their crap aside and doing what they’re paid to do instead of slacking off work and going to sleep for a while because everything’s just a little too real for them whilst they’re feeling a little bit ill.

Work is not a place to sleep when you feel crap because of your excess. It’s not a place to not do work. Don’t come in if all you’re going to do is try to ride out your hangover. If you’re going to come in hungover, then push through it and do your job. Otherwise, stay home and don’t bother because you don’t have a job to not do your job.

It’s just a thought.

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Another Sunset Shot at Redfern Station

This was taken shortly after the last sunset shot at Redfern Station.

I like this one mostly because of how the darkness works in conjunction with the sunset to frame the shot. It has a certain feel due to the dim lighting of the station. I’m not sure how to describe it.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 201: Things I Love About Having a Strained Wrist

I can’t lift a lot of things.
I can’t cycle.
I can’t even play guitar.

Well, to be fair, I can do all of these things and more. It just hurts more than it should and I feel like my wrist is weak.

It’s almost as though, through some sort of repetitive motion that caused strain, I’ve developed an injury in my wrist. Quite possibly through working hard on removing a panel of a model of something that was heavily glued to the rest of the model and needed to be removed and re-positioned in order for it to sit properly as it was leaving a massive gap around it and thus threatened the very aesthetic integrity of the model.

It’s only almost as though it was like that. It most certainly wasn’t that though and I will deny the overwhelming and irrefutable evidence presented that undeniably shows that it was, because I can choose to deny and ignore whatever I want!

If politicians can do it, then so can I dammit!

Oh, what a horrible fate that has befallen me in these trying times of darkness and turmoil!

I don’t know how I will survive or even get along with living my life, for it will never be the same.

The injury may heal, but the memory shall forever remain in my heart and mind like a blighted scar upon my very being that does not prevent me from moving on and accepting that it has happened, forcing me to undergo some sort of lengthy personal quest about self-discovery and acceptance whilst ultimately leading to the changing of the fate of the world.

Quite possibly the fete of the world as well…

There’s nothing I can do about it, I am in so much pain, blah blah blah…

Well anyway, yes, my wrist hurts, I know why and it is rather bothersome, but for some reason I’m still doing stuff that I shouldn’t, like typing furiously at the moment to try and get this finished as quickly as I can, because despite my need to rest my wrist so I can go back to cycling among other things, I have too much of a desire to continue doing things that I shouldn’t right now as I’m rather restless.

It would probably get much better if I just rested a lot more than I am, but I must persist as a lack of action is seemingly something that I cannot do right now, for I have too much desire to keep on pushing through the pain because I don’t seem to understand or want to accept that resting my wrist will make sure that it gets stronger sooner whilst reducing the chances of further injury.

At least I’m not cycling at the moment, but I would prefer to be.

Perhaps I can still play guitar. I’m not entirely sure. Perhaps I should try.

Or better yet, perhaps I should take it easy until my wrist is the strongest wrist ever.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 08:18:48

Well, that was an interesting bit of melodrama.

It could’ve been a bit more mellow on the drama, but then it wouldn’t have been as passionately dramatic, like a caressing wind embracing the most worrisome of hearts.

Written at work.

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Sirius Building

Like many people in Sydney, I’ve known this building for a long time.

It’s a wonderfully hideous building that deserves to be listed as heritage as it’s part of the history of the development of the Sydney landscape and its “culture”.

This building has a bit of a history behind it that is worth looking into because it helps give reason to explain as to why some people don’t want to see it sold off in order for the state government to use the funds to supposedly fund government housing development elsewhere.

I don’t hold the current state government in high esteem, nor some of the prior ones for that matter. Sydney’s heritage and past should be taken into serious consideration. Little by little its history is sold off and redeveloped because a leading party wants to make a quick buck.

That may sound really cynical, but I don’t care.

Development is important to progress, but it should not involve removing the history of an area.

I think that if you think something like this is an eyesore and should be removed, then you should also think about what could end up being the replacement, as well as why it is where it is.

If you think that government housing shouldn’t be in an area you live in because you pay more money, then you should probably take your shitty attitude elsewhere. Just because you pay more money to live somewhere doesn’t mean you are entitled to something better.

Government housing is quite beneficial, especially considering how much it can cost to rent in Sydney and I don’t have a problem with it being available in expensive suburbs such as The Rocks because I don’t have a problem with people having less money being given the same opportunities to live in the same suburbs as people who are better off.

It allows for more integration which in turn strengthens society.

But I digress.

I like the geometry and pattern of the building, as well as its looking plain and hideous. In a way, its still a rather beautiful sight.

It’s a bold statement, greater in detail than its brutalist design would suggest.
It’s old, but it still stands out quite well.

It appears more artistic than the crumpled paper bag building that U.T.S. forked out around one hundred-and-eighty-million dollars to have built in a spot that’s semi-hidden away.

Perhaps more importantly, unlike the above-mentioned building, as well as a significant portion of the buildings in Sydney, it feels genuine.

In the first photo, I played much more around with colour. I think I made it a little too purple.

The second one is a little bit closer to how the light being cast off the building appeared.

I hope you enjoy.

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