Canberra, as far as smaller cities go, is a nice place to live, particularly on the southside of our little metropolis, hard up against the Brindabella mountains which provide inspiring views as one traverses the divide from Woden into the Tuggeranong Valley and the suburb of Wanniassa where I am domiciled.
The downside of living in a small city is that you may, in your travels around the the place, doing daily chores or simply soaking up the local culture, bump into unsavoury people who you may have had run ins with in the past and wish to leave far behind in the fun run of life, straggling along with the backmarkers of your memory where they can no longer conspire to spoil your journey or make everyday living more wretched than it may already be.
We soon get over such people once we are free of their callous disregard for the feelings of others and no longer have to suffer through the misfortune of being within their reach and the decay and trouble with which they infect us simply because we have drifted into their orbit and are stuck with them due to the force of gravity as it applies to us.
These forces are different for everyone. The recalcitrant to which we refer may wander into your life through school, work, sporting clubs, mutual friendships or even family connections. Sometimes it is hard to extricate oneself from their company and the continual barrage of abuse one suffers from the aforementioned troublemaker can degrade morale and even cause depression and affect the poor unfortunates who are victims of these sociopaths for years after, poisoning more promising relationships and causing trauma and self doubt which may last for years. Certainly, these people form a darkside of the human condition and haunt us all. None can escape the black hole of infestation where such people reside. We are all victims at one moment or another.
From time to time I have had the unfortunate coincidence occur whereby I have found myself in the vicinity of someone I would rather avoid, who, in the normal course of life I would have no contact with and who, in a perfect world would cease to exist within the realms of my memory. I have had a few of these encounters.
A particularly virulent personality who I once had a quite pleasant relationship with and who for no apparent reason decided to shed the veneer of personability towards myself and others with whom we worked seemed to be popping up within my view at regular intervals a couple of years ago.
The few times this occurred, I was lucky in that I saw her first and was able to veer away like a warship twisting on it’s course trying to outrun a torpedo. It was particularly hard to remain camouflaged though when she was two down in a line at a supermarket and I was trying to hide behind Linda lest the object of my disinterest saw me. No matter. Not that she would talk to me in any case but I would rather not have that uncomfortable, awkward moment occur when I have to completely ignore someone I don’t like.
It is not in the normal repertoire of my emotions, such things, that is, to ignore someone completely. I’m generally a “live and let live” type of person but there is an exception when stared down by an especially abhorrent individual.
Today, it happened again, albeit with a different person, but one no less abominable than the previously mentioned miscreant.
Those who regularly read my blog my be acquainted with a certain office worker at my place of employment who many years ago threatened staff, in the course of her usual execrable behaviour, with death by her own hand by way of shooting. The outcry from co-workers saw this nefarious character exiled to a far corner of the corporation’s empire in Canberra, much to her disgust. She was eventually reinstated to her previous place of work among us without notice and it has been a bone of contention ever since with those on the workfloor who knew her. I recounted much of this behaviour in a blog entry dated June 21, 2012. Fast forward to today.
Linda had to visit the doctor in Queanbeyan, for those not familiar with the local area, a satellite city just across the border from Canberra. The doctor in question is very busy and is often called upon to drop everything at his surgery and go and deliver a baby at the local hospital, leaving a long line of patients behind who breathlessly and surprisingly patiently await his return.
Linda had a slight growth behind her ear which had to be taken off and as such a procedure was certain to leave her with a headache I accompanied her in order to chauffeur her home.
We arrived just a little before the consultation time at midday only to find the doctor had rushed off to the hospital and wouldn’t be back until at least two o’clock.
We decided to take some time to pick up some things which Linda had been wanting to get and then had a very nice lunch at a small cafe tucked away in a alley in Queanbeyan called “The Copper Kettle.”
We ambled our way back to the surgery in Rutledge Street only to fine the erstwhile physician was still missing although his much harried receptionists seemed to be confident he would be back at any moment.
So we settled in to wait and I found myself quite intrigued with a local golfing magazine which had a number of interesting articles and interviews inside it and I was soon lost in a sporting world which, until now I only had a passing interest.
Linda was scribbling on a notepad, writing down complaints for which she felt she needed to consult the doctor when I noticed a large framed woman walk past me within elbow distance. There was no-one else in the surgery at the time, those who were due to be seen had been told to come back at a later hour, and we were right in front of the reception desk so I could not miss the bean-bag shaped figure stomping past.
It didn’t take more than a split second to realise who it was. My nemesis from the office!
I twisted in my seat, pulled the magazine closer to my face while trying not to look too much like a loon and covered the right side of my head with my hand, hoping that she would not see me and would take her usual ignorant view of the world and not notice the woebegone beggar cowering in the seat behind her.
She was quite polite in her inquiries to the receptionists, a far cry from her usual behaviour, even though she seemed to leave the place without achieving her goal of a swift appointment.
As she walked past towards the door I sunk a little lower, in some ways thankful that we had not selected a seat against the wall where the sweep of her gaze may have had a better chance to catch her hated antagonist in the throes of an embarrassing attempt to pretend she wasn’t there.
Of course I will never know whether she saw me and picked me out for who I was and at the end of the day it really doesn’t matter. It is just a reminder that when you make enemies in a smallish city like Canberra you never know when your number may come up and you may be confronted unexpectedly by someone you may prefer not to see. Such is life.
As it was Linda was eventually admitted and administered to although the doctor nicked a blood vessel causing the wound to bleed and required stitches which surely was not part of the plan. Tonight she is okay though she has felt better and her wound is throbbing just a little bit.
So, tomorrow is another day for me on holiday but the sand is quickly running out of the hour glass and my return to work gets closer with every grain that falls. Until then I will enjoy myself until the inevitable conclusion to my leave and hope for the best in the workplace for 2013.
Until next time.
The downside of living in a small city is that you may, in your travels around the the place, doing daily chores or simply soaking up the local culture, bump into unsavoury people who you may have had run ins with in the past and wish to leave far behind in the fun run of life, straggling along with the backmarkers of your memory where they can no longer conspire to spoil your journey or make everyday living more wretched than it may already be.
We soon get over such people once we are free of their callous disregard for the feelings of others and no longer have to suffer through the misfortune of being within their reach and the decay and trouble with which they infect us simply because we have drifted into their orbit and are stuck with them due to the force of gravity as it applies to us.
These forces are different for everyone. The recalcitrant to which we refer may wander into your life through school, work, sporting clubs, mutual friendships or even family connections. Sometimes it is hard to extricate oneself from their company and the continual barrage of abuse one suffers from the aforementioned troublemaker can degrade morale and even cause depression and affect the poor unfortunates who are victims of these sociopaths for years after, poisoning more promising relationships and causing trauma and self doubt which may last for years. Certainly, these people form a darkside of the human condition and haunt us all. None can escape the black hole of infestation where such people reside. We are all victims at one moment or another.
From time to time I have had the unfortunate coincidence occur whereby I have found myself in the vicinity of someone I would rather avoid, who, in the normal course of life I would have no contact with and who, in a perfect world would cease to exist within the realms of my memory. I have had a few of these encounters.
A particularly virulent personality who I once had a quite pleasant relationship with and who for no apparent reason decided to shed the veneer of personability towards myself and others with whom we worked seemed to be popping up within my view at regular intervals a couple of years ago.
The few times this occurred, I was lucky in that I saw her first and was able to veer away like a warship twisting on it’s course trying to outrun a torpedo. It was particularly hard to remain camouflaged though when she was two down in a line at a supermarket and I was trying to hide behind Linda lest the object of my disinterest saw me. No matter. Not that she would talk to me in any case but I would rather not have that uncomfortable, awkward moment occur when I have to completely ignore someone I don’t like.
It is not in the normal repertoire of my emotions, such things, that is, to ignore someone completely. I’m generally a “live and let live” type of person but there is an exception when stared down by an especially abhorrent individual.
Today, it happened again, albeit with a different person, but one no less abominable than the previously mentioned miscreant.
Those who regularly read my blog my be acquainted with a certain office worker at my place of employment who many years ago threatened staff, in the course of her usual execrable behaviour, with death by her own hand by way of shooting. The outcry from co-workers saw this nefarious character exiled to a far corner of the corporation’s empire in Canberra, much to her disgust. She was eventually reinstated to her previous place of work among us without notice and it has been a bone of contention ever since with those on the workfloor who knew her. I recounted much of this behaviour in a blog entry dated June 21, 2012. Fast forward to today.
Linda had to visit the doctor in Queanbeyan, for those not familiar with the local area, a satellite city just across the border from Canberra. The doctor in question is very busy and is often called upon to drop everything at his surgery and go and deliver a baby at the local hospital, leaving a long line of patients behind who breathlessly and surprisingly patiently await his return.
Linda had a slight growth behind her ear which had to be taken off and as such a procedure was certain to leave her with a headache I accompanied her in order to chauffeur her home.
We arrived just a little before the consultation time at midday only to find the doctor had rushed off to the hospital and wouldn’t be back until at least two o’clock.
We decided to take some time to pick up some things which Linda had been wanting to get and then had a very nice lunch at a small cafe tucked away in a alley in Queanbeyan called “The Copper Kettle.”
We ambled our way back to the surgery in Rutledge Street only to fine the erstwhile physician was still missing although his much harried receptionists seemed to be confident he would be back at any moment.
So we settled in to wait and I found myself quite intrigued with a local golfing magazine which had a number of interesting articles and interviews inside it and I was soon lost in a sporting world which, until now I only had a passing interest.
Linda was scribbling on a notepad, writing down complaints for which she felt she needed to consult the doctor when I noticed a large framed woman walk past me within elbow distance. There was no-one else in the surgery at the time, those who were due to be seen had been told to come back at a later hour, and we were right in front of the reception desk so I could not miss the bean-bag shaped figure stomping past.
It didn’t take more than a split second to realise who it was. My nemesis from the office!
I twisted in my seat, pulled the magazine closer to my face while trying not to look too much like a loon and covered the right side of my head with my hand, hoping that she would not see me and would take her usual ignorant view of the world and not notice the woebegone beggar cowering in the seat behind her.
She was quite polite in her inquiries to the receptionists, a far cry from her usual behaviour, even though she seemed to leave the place without achieving her goal of a swift appointment.
As she walked past towards the door I sunk a little lower, in some ways thankful that we had not selected a seat against the wall where the sweep of her gaze may have had a better chance to catch her hated antagonist in the throes of an embarrassing attempt to pretend she wasn’t there.
Of course I will never know whether she saw me and picked me out for who I was and at the end of the day it really doesn’t matter. It is just a reminder that when you make enemies in a smallish city like Canberra you never know when your number may come up and you may be confronted unexpectedly by someone you may prefer not to see. Such is life.
As it was Linda was eventually admitted and administered to although the doctor nicked a blood vessel causing the wound to bleed and required stitches which surely was not part of the plan. Tonight she is okay though she has felt better and her wound is throbbing just a little bit.
So, tomorrow is another day for me on holiday but the sand is quickly running out of the hour glass and my return to work gets closer with every grain that falls. Until then I will enjoy myself until the inevitable conclusion to my leave and hope for the best in the workplace for 2013.
Until next time.
Strange Notations From a Laborious Life 