Friday, June 24, 2011

New and improved update: now with less rage!

--- We are off this weekend for a little getaway in parts Flemish.  As always, I have peeped out a chocolatier/patissier I can't wait to visit.  I believe that coming home heavier may be unavoidable.

--- And what of the body?  I do know that very very soon I will have to display what two months worth of doing 100 sit-ups every day looks like.  I have my doubts that it will show up well on film, (I have been busy this month with the counter-productive activity of eating fattening things for various good reasons.)  I'm pretty sure my brand new burn mark might show up nicely though.

--- Completely unrelated to the above: I don't recommend you iron a shirt if you are not wearing one yourself.

--- I have visited a particular office in my commune 3 times in the past week.  I am now used to the fact that the receptionist simply doesn't exist or if he/she does, they are intensely private.  I have managed to piece together where I am supposed to go in the building, and just this morning I discovered that contrary to all information posted online and inside the building itself, the office I need to get into opens at 8am.  This morning at 8:30 I was 20th in line.  Given that the 20 people in front of me were mostly people who have no idea how to do their taxes and have come to have someone else do it for them, and calculating 30 minutes per person... I left.

Monday I'll go back very early to make sure I'm the first, and I'll bring something to entertain myself while I wait for the bureaucrats to see me.  It's all rather Belgian in flavour, this.  I should have expected it and resigned myself to it sooner.

Ok no really... the real reason I'm ok with it is because this particular office is about 2 minutes walk from my house. SO, it's only a little skin off my back to possibly have to make the trip 4 or 5 times before my matter is dealt with.  I prefer the strategic in-and-out visits to commune offices anyhow.  It's the waiting that kills me.  This can be terrible torture especially if the other people who come to the commune office to wait within olfactory range of you are the sort who shower every 2 or 3 days... There are more people in my commune like that than I'm comfortable with, hence the ninja "first thing in the morning" approach.

I'm outta steam.  Time to drink coffee and lie about aimlessly drawing things.


Anonymous said...

at my commune (admittedly in brussels), you have to arrive at 630am to get a ticket, and then wait around 90 minutes until the actual office opens. why? no idea. be brave!

Mons Ben said...

They smell. Walloons smell. There. I've said it. At the risk of offending any Walloons who read this (in fact, isn't your boyfriend one??!), I'm sorry, but there are a hell of a lot of you who really need to wash more often. The free buses in Mons are always good for sniffing them out. I really laughed when I read this entry, Jessica. Can I relate or can I relate?!

Jessica said...

No Ben... it's ok. While I'm anti-racism, I do also believe that stereotypes exist for a reason. Many Walloons smell. Many do not, but enough do for the label to stick.

In my commune, I honestly believe there is a lack of formal education regarding hygiene and general well-being (both social and physical) at the heart of the issue. Thankfully, boyfriend doesn't smell and was raised correctly in this respect. :)

You have FREE bussing in Mons? wtf. I'm jealous even if it does smell. I PAY for my stinky bus-rides!