Apparently, today is "Stressless Day" at uni. We are approaching the end of semester and this can be a stressful time for staff and students so our very own Student Services team has organised their annual Stressless Day "to promote healthy mind, body and spirit." Activities include:
- Free snacks
- Group meditation
- Comedy and music
- Physical activities
- Yoga
For example, Geordie Day might consist of:
- Fashion show of Ben Sherman shirts for blokes; short skirts, high heels and strappy tops for the lasses. Although if it's a warm day, as it usually is here on the Sunshine Coast, the lads will probably do away with their shirts and wander around semi-naked.
- "Learn Geordie" language workshops.
- Newcastle Brown Ale tasting sessions.
- Free ham and pease-pudding sarnies on stotty bread.
- Singalonga Geordie folk songs, including classics such as "Fog on the Tyne", "The Lambton Worm" and "The Blaydon Races".
- Meet a famous Geordie featuring Robson Green, Sting, Jimmy Nail and everyone's favourite, Donna Air.
- Free screenings of selected episodes of Byker Grove, When the Boat Comes In and The Likely Lads.
- Geordie pub quiz.
Feeling quite deflated and a little bit annoyed, not least because my bike tools were right in the bottom of my bag, I took my bag off the back of my bike (I strap it to a tray on my bike so I can carry more stuff and not get a sweaty back) and pulled everything out of it. After a few minutes of grappling with the bolt (how much do I wish I had a quick-release seat?) and bashing my knuckles up I decided to phone Toby (who'd already left for work in my car some time prior) and let him know how angry and frustrated I was.
ME: You could have told me that you'd used my bike and raised the seat!
TOBY: Oh no! I'm so sorry!
ME: I don't mind people using my bike but I wish they'd put it back the way they found it.
TOBY: Yes, I realise that's annoying. I'm sorry.
ME: I'm already late for work and I can't get the bloody nut undone. Is there a trick to it?
TOBY: What are you using? If you're using the wrong tool you'll ruin the bolt and then you'll never get it off?
ME: Well what did you use?
TOBY: A switcher.
ME: What's a switcher?
TOBY: It's a brown metal spanner-like thing the length of your forearm.
ME: Where is it?
TOBY: If you go into the garage...
ME: [huff puff... mutter mutter] Right. Great. So now I've got to faff around looking for my keys to get back into the garage.... [mutter... steam from ears]
... PAUSE ...
ME: Right I'm in the garage. Where is it?
TOBY: On the floor there's a toolbox.
ME: Where on the floor?
TOBY: It's just on the floor. You should be able to see it as soon as you walk in.
ME: Well, I can't. Can you be more specific? It's a pretty big room.
TOBY: It's black with yellow fasteners.
ME: You mean the huge camping box [which is on the garage floor and is black with yellow fasteners... but couldn't possibly be what you are referring to as a 'toolbox', could it?]
TOBY: No! It's a toolbox.
ME: Well, I can't see it!!! Where is it in relation to your car?
TOBY: My car? Oh sorry... I meant the shed!
ME: !!!!!!! [steam]
And so it went on. After walking right around the outside of the house and locating the toolbox in the shed but not finding the switcher in the described location, Toby had me looking first on the bench in the shed (not there), then on the bench in the laundry, which required walking back around to the front of the house and letting myself back in again only to find it wasn't there either. I eventually found the switcher in the toolbox, not on top as specified but under some other gear, and discovered that it's actually about 12cm long and is metal with some rust (not brown metal the length of my fore-arm).
I then spent quite a while frustratedly trying to undo first the nut, then the bolt with said switcher and bruised and bloodied my knuckles even further. Thoughts of having to catch the bus were flying through my mind, which frustrated me as it meant changing and re-packing my bag, plus not getting any exercise for the day. I just couldn't figure out how Toby had done it. No matter how I tried there didn't seem to be enough space to get the switcher onto the nut and then turn it. I felt like a useless girl.
I called him back to whinge and make him feel guilty.
And then the bright spark decided there was an even better tool I could use. Back to the shed I went and this time I was instructed to pull out a ratchet kit, infinitely easier to find and the whole thing was resolved in less than five minute. Five minutes!! I could have done it all in five minutes. No faffing around getting my toolkit from the bottom of my bag, or pulling out my handbag to get to my keys, or looking in numerous locations for some enigmatic tool which looks nothing like the picture I had of it in my mind's eye, or bashing up my knuckles and scratching my wedding ring. Just put the bike down, straight round the back and into the shed, find the ratchet kit on the shelf, back to the front, fix up the seat, put the ratchet kit away and off you go. How I wish that was how it had happened. It just goes to show how important good communication is.
At least next time I'll know which tool to use and I'll be able to fix it up straight away without bothering Toby.
As if there'll be a next time. I don't think Toby will dare leave my bike incorrectly adjusted after the hard time I gave him this morning.
And by the way, I still want a bike with a quick-release seat. And suspension. And a smaller frame. I'm hoping at least one of these things will prevent my bum getting as sore as it was on the ride today.
Incidentally, my knuckles are so sore and bruised that I can't get my rings off and I'm paranoid that I left without locking the laundry door but apart from that the day is definitely improving.
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