after three hours (maybe a little more, i don't know for sure) of sleep, i got dressed and ready pretty quickly and (fortunately) picked the right bus without ending up in a different city. i read fielding - tom jones most of the way, but by the last stretch i was too mentally drained even for that. i snuck into the induction base (my card's still good, it seems) to pick up some coffee, and was surprised to see my co-worker joining us when i got back. it was nice to have someone to talk to.
the march was about the lack of equality (again? yes. in pretty much everything.) between the ultra-orthodox (most of whom don't serve in the military), the israeli arabs (who aren't invited to serve in the military), the conscientious objectors and the rest of us. we're not asking them to wield weapons, we want them to perform national service (for instance, social work in their own communities). that's not a lot to ask.
i was amused by the use of the expression "to vote with your feet" prior to marching. the walk was long, about ten kilometres and i guess i must've carried the stretcher for one or two of them. that little girl wasn't so little...
so i exercised arms, shoulders, legs and opinions - although it was kinda preaching to the converted - and it was hot. it's been rather a long time since i've spent so much time in the sunlight!
once we got to beit dagan, i grabbed a sandwich and then a bus to work - i would've liked to continue, but we all have responsibilities. it was strange waiting in a place i'd last stood a little more than half a year ago, sensing an absent smile on my own face from delighting in the fact that i'm me, and i look like myself, and i'm living my own life :)
after a class nap on the bus in the sunlight refracted through the dirty glass windows, i dazedly walked to work from the train station. it was while crossing the bridge that the bridge song popped into my head. i wrote it down and then carried on, laughing at the sight of myself in the mirror as i entered the foyer - me, with my purple beanie and soul patch and wearing my own clothing ^_^
i was surprised to hear that the telephonic interview i was supposed to undergo tomorrow morning regarding my pension plan wasn't telephonic... that complicated things a bit. only much later, after i'd sent an sms telling the representative that they had better be on time because i'd be coming to work especially to see them (and had class afterwards), that our financial specialist came past to tell me that she'd been mistaken; it really is going to be telephonic :P
speaking of telephones: a few days ago orange called to find out if i was satisfied with my upgrade experience. i gave them five very specific reasons (i forgot to mention the battle over phone insurance) why i wasn't. today i got a call from the sales point so that the manager who'd received the review could attack each point in as aggressive a fashion as possible.
'cause that's good service.
struggling to maintain my faith in humanity above my own angry voice, i shouted right back at her until she chilled (relatively) and started to see what i was getting at. at least, i *think* she saw what i was getting at. she did give me a NIS 30 discount for my next half a year: that would make me feel better if it wasn't a sum of money that i know they shouldn't be charging me in the first place.
"to make you happier about being screwed, we're willing to steal a bit less from you than usual." thanks. really.
the ultimate irony was having the IT guy who sits across from me identifying with my agitation and sharing his own personal consumer horror stories; the ones where he's the hero and not the jerk that makes you run through hoops to get basic office issues sorted out :/
it makes no sense that i couldn't find my beanie. anywhere. not even in the stairwell or in the foyer. i searched through the office like a mad thing and was extremely frustrated by the time i had to go. at least the work itself was interesting.
my aspie coworker - her world has no "objective": every opinion she holds is fact. in order to speak to her one needs to learn her language. i've got enough trouble with english, hebrew and soon french, i don't *need* another dialect. in today's case, she was trying to say "long" regarding my hair and the only word that would suffice for her was "extreme" :S
...
i was so into tom jones (not the singer - him i hate) that i missed the bus: he didn't even slow down after hooting, so i didn't have a chance to register the number and leg it after him. bastard. at least i was still on time.
on the bus, a strange thought struck regarding the annoying fool from yesterday. would it be obvious to the lecturer that i was making fun of him if i immediately followed the next poem we read with the question: "would you agree that there is no irony, that this wonderful poem is a bit stupid?"
would that give him a hint?
i made it early in spite of the bus issue, and ran into someone i did the officer's course with. after an amusing chat i made myself a cup of coffee and walked into the reading.
was it caffeine shakes, or pre-reading nerves? i couldn't stop thinking about tomorrow. my first reading. ever. i've decided to go with dead eye and a compass. i hope i don't sound like an idiot. either way, tonight's reading gave me some insight into the whole practice so i at least know what tomorrow might be like :P
adam schonbrun was definitely my favourite for the evening: pulled no punches, great imagery and a good reading voice. the others were a bit... technical (although ada aharoni - teddy bears for guns was sweet). and the last reader's voice did his writing no favours.
pg met me outside and we bussed back together, speaking in english - yes, that's worth mentioning. we stopped for calzone at pizza pazza, then i spent an hour prepping myself for tomorrow and resubmitting for the poetry competition (my last week alone has produced more interesting offspring than anything i had by december, i think), and then went blading. with two shirts (one long-sleeved) and my mask up and it was still chilly.
the course was good and i was tired. my body is sore and i'm glad that the argument with the photographer (see last week's complaint) was not only resolved, but turned political and that seems to have been resolved (although i did do a fair bit of shouting, so my throat's a bit sore)...
now - to bed. yes. bed's a good idea.
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