Monday, 8 March 2010

Yeah, it's now...isn't it?

Time is flying.

Despite what my most recent posts seem to suggest, this grooming lark is a good buzz. It's hard work, my emotions pretty much fly from Africa to the Arctic every day, but I'm slowly realising that the best experiences while travelling aren't necessarily the ones which make you convulse from laughing. You've said it and I know it: when all this is over, I'm going to look back on these last seven weeks and feel like I've done something that backpacker buses, bunk beds and tour guides wouldn't even come close to. Then I'm going to sleep in until 11am every single day for the next four months.

I was going to write about Saturday. How I was single handedly in charge of sorting 14 horses for a whole, four person team; my only help coming from Annie, who is as clueless about polo as I was six weeks ago. How I failed to get one horse out to the field in time for the entire match. How, although it was forecast to rain, we instead had burning 30 degree sunshine, 60% humidity and more flies than a long-drop toilet. How, despite all that, the Polo Player still thanked me profusely for my help, blamed someone else for being unorganised and gave Annie and I lots of beer. But enough of me rattling on about the ups and downs, I think you probably get the idea.

Instead, I think it's time to wrap it up. I've spent my day off lying on the sofa with the Little Blue Dog nestled against me, watching Hollywood's Most Vacuous give eachother gold statues and verbal hand jobs live on TV. While some perma-tan silver fox waxed lyrical on screen, I told the Polo Player that I'm thinking of making a move soon. The initial reaction wasn't great, which was to be expected as I've possibly picked the worst time to go in terms of polo. "We could do with having you until the end of the month. Have a think about it", I was told. So I did - again.

The Polo Player returned to the living room later, where I lay with my feet tucked under the Blue Dog, and my arms draped over the Jack Russell on my lap.

"Don't worry about it. If you need to go, we'll sort something out" he said, as if he'd been thinking about it too.
"I'm not about to leave anyone in the lurch, and if you need me to stay then I will."

But assured that something would be organised, my two weeks notice was accepted.

There's just one more place to visit before I go.

6 comments:

The Unbearable Banishment said...

Leave on a high note while they still pine for your services. That’s always the best policy. Leave a long trail of satisfaction and broken hearts behind you.

roseski said...

Where?

AFC 30K said...

And the journey continues.....

Elaine said...

Off to NZ now or straight to the US of A? Bet you can't wait!

Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...

Unbearable - I don't know about broken hearts, but satisfaction hopefully :)

roseski - patience, gertrude.

AFC - onwards and onwards...

elaine - NZ, then back to Oz to meet the boyfriend, then back to NZ, then Fiji, then USA. I've only just started really :)

Brennig said...

There's just one more place to visit before I go.

The dunny?

 

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