Post Viva

I went over to P’s after steak night at Botanica’s with Zach, Sarah, Jesse, Ted, and Soph. After some cuddles, some fun, and then more cuddles, P asked me what my favourite colour was. It’s been a couple times where I’ve been asked to confirm my birthday date. It’s nice, having someone ask things, knowing it’s for my birthday present. I just wish I could orgasm when we have sex.

I’m not 100% sure I passed viva. Despite getting the problems, it could’ve gone so poorly. Particularly section 1. And the brunette with the nose was scrawling heaps in Section 3. And a bit during my section 4 roleplay. Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
I so very much want an acceptance to Sydney dental. Or UWA. I would be willing to compromise much to get it. I don’t care what they say, it’d be worth it. Consequentialism, the ends justifying the means, it’s worth it. Who gives a fuck about the rest?

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Well I’d say something’s screwed.

A bauble on a Christmas tree.

Image via Wikipedia

I was hanging out on Sunday arvo and one of my work mates rang up to ask if I could cover his shift from 3pm-9pm. I got paid to tie ribbons, construct a Christmas tree of drink bottles (gifts with purchase), and put a crapload of lotto tickets through for some addicts. I’m serious. ..about those RIBBONS!

One Italian lady spent over 100$ on lotto tickets, just to get the free Saturday ticket that costs $4.70 on its own. And she comes in multiple times every week. She’s not the biggest spender either; her self-proclaimed bestie is a South African man who spent $300 on lotto and scratchies. Now, I’ve heard the ads on the radio, “If someone you know has a gambling problem, they should get help. Please call us at blah blah blah…” Somehow, I don’t think anyone’s said anything to them. My coworker even correctly predicted that the Italian lady would be back within a few hours to check her scratchie tickets after she’d played them. She can’t tell her husband because he gets angry, understandably. So I wonder, what does she tell him? “Oh, I forgot the milk. Again! It happens every week. I’ll have to go out and get it. Be right back, honey.”

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Another lovely lady came in as well that afternoon. She informed my boss that she will be a grandmother in 9 months time. It was strange, she pursed her lips over her rotting, greyed, gap teeth, but in something that was more a smile than a grimace. Even though there was only one other customer in the shop, I felt wholly uncomfortable standing there at the till, with her not 1 meter away airing her dirty laundry. I’m supposed to stand there.

My boss said,

“I don’t care if his head is screwed on straight, I’d still want to kill him for getting his 16 year old girlfriend pregnant.”

My coworker and I agreed. I mean, she wants to keep it – how is she ever going to have a normal life? All her friends and school mates will know (she will be heretofore known as That-Girl-Who-Got-Pregnant-and-Kept-It) and she’s not going to work until much later, if at all.I think he will change rapidly from being really keen on fatherhood to not keen at all, when he sees his other mates (who don’t have children) going out and working and traveling and living their lives. And where does that leave her? Another single mother who didn’t finish school and is on the dole. Perfect.

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In more upbeat news, I feel really productive. I vacuumed. I mopped and used eucalyptus oil to disinfect the floor. It smells good and clean, and it’s natural. I cleaned the stove. I picked up and paid for ACER practice tests. I registered and paid for the actual GAMSAT. I sent off a form to redeem points for flights to Sydney for the GAMSAT course. I’m on my way to pick up the second practice book from the GAMSAT course. It’s all becoming real very quickly.  Today, GEMSAS offers were meant to come out, but it’s looking highly unlikely that they’ll be able to meet that deadline. Oh well, in a year, I can worry about that. There’s enough to do today.