For me, the day before yesterday (being Tuesday) was a mind boggling experience. My past – well it came back to haunt me... or bite me... or whatever the expression is. 

It started with the friendly barista at our local coffee shop – just near my new work. You see, I recognised her on my first journey to find a creamy, enjoyable flat mocha to stimulate me of a morning. She was in Year 9 with me at St Clares – and from memory, I was a revolting terror whom she hated, and deservedly so.

For the past 2 months at my new job – 8 weeks of running between Court houses and Cop shops, I’ve been chuffed that a) she hasn’t recognised me and is superbly friendly and b) the mochas are sweet.

Then, on mind boggling Tuesday, I get a phonecall from reception.

“Ah, hi – ah …Nasty?”

“Yes” I say, wondering who wants me ,and why they’re calling me at lunchtime when I’m supposed to be on my lunch hour like everybody else – (but really, I’m working at my desk and starving to death)

“What’s this I hear about you stealing a crate of mooves?”

My mind drew a blank. Stealing? Moi? The pressure of working in criminal law has my mind swirling as I momentarily turned into Rumpole of the Bailey.

*Theft – how much? Was it less than $2000? Ha! A minor offence… a summary matter. No prior convictions? Good references? Would warrant good behaviour - at the worst…!!*

“Ohhhhhh” I gasped, remembering that in Year 9 at St Clares, I had stolen a crate of mooves and now, the game was up. The barista had remembered me this whole time.

So alas, the day unfolds and I soon forget about my failed espionage - until later that afternoon, when I finish work and park my car outside a random Office building to pop into the supermarket to buy some mushrooms, basil and pasta for my exotic, carbo-licious dinner.

On my return, there is a business card on my windshield. “Ha!” I murmer – too exhausted to move as I entertain the idea of turning on the windscreen wipers and driving off with card flying into the wind –

until I see the word “LEGAL” printed in capitals.

“Legal?” I wonder… “which firm has stooped so low as to place business cards on the windows of unsuspecting, bird-dropping infested 1983 Pulsars?” My curiosity gets the better of me and I retrieve this peculiar item, turning it over to see an all too familiar name.

“Andrew Thomas”!

URK!

I bark… !!!

I squeal…!!!!

I drop the card in terror! Violated in my travels, Andrew Thomas - the strange ex-boyfriend-like person whom I once dated back in 2000 – had seen me exit the vehicle and waited in the wings to place his eeerrrksome card on my smudgey windscreen!

I shudder… looking at the high heels on my passenger seat… wondering if he longed to touch them? Or worse yet –

Wear them? As he waited behind a tree... hand on his proverbial gavel … watching me.

ARK!

So I drive home at rapid speed  - making sure to obey all road rules and avoid any reckless, negligent or furious driving.

I get home, and the flyscreen is locked.

GREAT!!! - I don’t have a key  - I am forced to break into my own house!!

"Ladies and gentleman of the Jury... I ask you... could her day have gotten any worse?"

I hike up my size 12 tunic, remove my size 7.5 colardo heels, and climb the fence... looking a sorry sight - thinking that attempted burglary certainly isn’t my forte –

Nor does it suit my outfit.

I scour my own house – looking at flyscreens and doors – rattling a few handles and saying a few F words, when I discover the bathroom window is open.

At last!! An Entry point!!!

I remove a screwdriver from my handbag (don’t even ask)  - unhinge the flyscreen and HEY PRESTO!!

I do as the Beatles songs, and come in through the bathroom window!!

So after such a hectic day, and 3 months of ignoring my blog, I realise that life is funny indeed. I work fulltime… I study fulltime. I love my job (although it drives me crazy ) and I love my degree (although I’m nearly finished).

In between working and studying – with friendships temporarily remanded-in-custody and socialising adjourned for a later Hearing date – I smile and appreciate that even though you can take the fun out my weekends…

You can’t take the fun out of Nasty.

"You have the right to remain dirty…”

Nasty-KG