back in good ole sydney
it's been a week since i've come back to sydney. the most amount of excitement that occurred was prior to my boarding the plane and post-check-in. me being me, i decided to check if i had my mobile after checking in. not in either my left or right pants pocket.. ok.. no need to panic just yet.. must be in the bag. so i rummage through my duffel bag. nary a sight of the black plastic mini-brick.. ok... breathe... must have dropped it in the car. so i grab the car keys from my mom and trudge across the terminal to the other end, to the middle of the car park and proceed to scrutinise every square inch of the passenger side front seat and the floor beneath it. then i proceed to search the rest of the car. no cigar... bloody hell. looks like i'm phoneless. as i slowly walk back to where my mom is, i try to visualise when i last had the phone. that's when i remember that i kept it in a pouch. so i proceed to search through my bag again, and eureka, there it is.
been delayed enough and i'm sent on my way to go through immigration. since i've got a few moments to spare, i call a friend. i go "hello" and the reply i get is "hey... you've got your mom's car and house keys.. go and call her". SHITE!! just as i hang up, i hear an announcement telling me to report to the information desk. so i first call my mom and she tells me to come to the immigration counter where i went in. and then, i proceed to haul my ass to the immigration counter. luckily, the ticketing officer who checked me in knows my dad, so he was obliging enough to come over to my side (the dark and restricted transit area) and get the keys from me to pass over to my mom. *sigh* the problems caused by not keeping my naked mobile in its usual place. i.e. my pants pocket, and also the fact that i can be slightly scatterbrained :P
after that excitement, the rest of my week in sydney has been fairly routine.
been delayed enough and i'm sent on my way to go through immigration. since i've got a few moments to spare, i call a friend. i go "hello" and the reply i get is "hey... you've got your mom's car and house keys.. go and call her". SHITE!! just as i hang up, i hear an announcement telling me to report to the information desk. so i first call my mom and she tells me to come to the immigration counter where i went in. and then, i proceed to haul my ass to the immigration counter. luckily, the ticketing officer who checked me in knows my dad, so he was obliging enough to come over to my side (the dark and restricted transit area) and get the keys from me to pass over to my mom. *sigh* the problems caused by not keeping my naked mobile in its usual place. i.e. my pants pocket, and also the fact that i can be slightly scatterbrained :P
after that excitement, the rest of my week in sydney has been fairly routine.
