I don't know what I don't know.
Last week I was trained to write tests for letters because they had to be written and moved into non-existent testing exercises by Monday. It only took until Wednesday to get Biff to talk about it, and when I say talk about it I mean nominate which ones she will do and print off some examples for me to base the rest on. I didn't use the examples, to do that I would need to understand them. Instead I wrote tests I could do if needs be.
Swings and roundabouts.
Next Week For Sure lost their first netball game twenty to six. We started a player short after Kate fell off her mountain bike during the week and we lost the first quarter six to nil. Our opponents, The Team, let us play with four males on court after that and we spent the rest of the game learning about stepping and obstruction and passing over a third. Occasionally one of us would have a shot at goal and that became more common as the game went on, which was nice. Al tried to explain the whole "defenders take the free throws, never the shooters" tactic but really, when you're Goal Scorer is constantly stepping offside and your Goal Attack is waiting for the ball to run over a third, we had more fundamental issues to address in the thirty second change of ends. One of The Team got a warning for repeatedly running into Fiona and thought it would be a good idea to question the umpire. He was sent off (apparently not for the first time in his life) and we only lost the last quarter four to three. Next week: volleyball. (Or possibly Sydney Dance Company's Shades of Gray
with mum for me, I must check the ticket).
Happy thirty-fifth Polly.
On Friday I found out Biff is going leaving in two weeks. She didn't tell me, nobody told me. Biff was telling Julius Strangepork that she could have left in May but was staying until testing started because I didn't know how to do her job yet. I only found out because I was sitting right there
in the meeting, and it wasn't a big meeting.
Happy thirtieth (last Tuesday) Jimbo.
On Saturday night Jimbo had a family birthday at Ian and Sonia and Flynn's with Dave and Fiona and Linda and I. Many people brought much food and there were myriad leftovers left over. For entertainment there was Norbert, the rather large, Dalmatian coloured Staffordshire Terrier puppy who is deaf and terribly excitable. Jimbo is planning a night out at the pub next weekend, also for his birthday.
Happy thirty-eighth Andy.
Sunday was unremarkable. As was Monday. On Tuesday Biff and Sully were both away, but with the help of pointless busywork (thus continuing the unremarkability of this week) I managed to make it through to four o'clock before abandoning the theatre of my work. Now it is Wednesday and nothing has happened yet...