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Friday, November 30, 2007
What is with blue collar workers and using the toilets of their employers? This morning our pool is being drained as it needs reconcreting or some shit (and because Brisbane is a fucking backwater desert you can't just backwash the pool: you have to SELL the water from the pool by paying a man to drain it... yeah, I can't work that out either). Anyway, the workers keep coming in to use my toilet! Is this protocol? I'm sorry, but they should learn to hold it, or go use a public toilet or whatever. I long for the days when you only had to offer this riff raff a cold drink of homemade lemonade or whatever. Why do I have to have random bums on my seat? I don't want to have to have my morning sullied by imagining the Great Unwashed excreting or urinating. Ugh.

They are standing in the yard out by my window right now, and I can hear them laughing. I bet they are talking about my bathroom. They probably went through my cupboards and found my stockpiled pump-action medicinal lubricant that I stole from my mothers pap smear clinic. I mean, when I inspect homes for sale (or even friends' homes, ha) I always sneakily go through their drawers and cupboards, and I know I often giggle to myself about their belongings. Or maybe they are laughing at my display towels. ARGH. Why does having workers over at my house always make me feel guilty?! PLEASE LEAVE, scary orange-shirted men!