Boomerangs, Mondays, Bosses, and Cars

For those of you who didn't get the message, I was in Australia last month. It was amazing. Until we tried to leave. In Brisbane, I had to pay far more for shipping boomerangs and some food products than any human being should have to. But! They came last week! Yay!

So today, I gave BestbossEVER! his boomerang. He and $port immediately started devising uses for it.

"I'm gonna sit in my office and have throw the boomerang so that it hits $port in the back while he's cleaning out the book drop."

"You should leave it on your desk as a threat. A gun is one thing, but if you can use a boomerang...you're a master of the arts. No one is going to mess with you."

"I wanna go outside and use it, but knowing me, I'd lose it in the lake..."

"You should find a football field somewhere to practice throwing it."

"Like across the street..."

They took a lot of breaks together. Many times.

Mondays are always atrocious during the summer at real work. Heaps and heaps of people come in, the drop is nonstop, and it makes the staff a little crabby, which can make work generally suck. It doesn't help that it's Monday.

All of this added together makes manic Mondays feel crazy long. Seriously. Like, if you asked me about it, I would swear up and down that:
a) it's midweek
b) that Boomerang thing happened last week
c) I've been at work for 30 hours already this week.

Quite draining, really.

It also added to the day that I had my pdp today. BestbossEVER! talked about how awesome I am...to me, though...it was fun. Then we joked around until it was arguably time to just start gathering our stuff and leave. Well, at least for him.

Miss Michelle has been driving me to work on Mondays, as Lola, my beloved car, is in the longest surgery ever. It is nice to not have to ride the bus, which takes an hour and a half instead of the 20-30 minutes of the lovely car ride. She's kind of a workaholic. If I hadn't walked into her office to tell her that I was good to go whenever, that I'd just be busying myself in the back room, her response was "Oh! I am glad you said something! otherwise I would have just worked for a long time until my stomach was like 'I am hungry! Why aren't you filling me' And then I would go home at 7 and it would not be as much fun."

She's fun to ride with. Very happy, honest, and talkative.

But alas, poor Lola. She needs her engine rebuilt. My dad is willing to put up the cash, so I'm cool with that idea. I hope, I pray, that I will have a car by the time my birthday rolls around.