Foiled again

Today I've yet again been thwarted by technology in my neverending quest to upload pictures to Picasa (Google's photo manager) and use them on my blog. This is an ongoing issue for me. Either I can't find a suitable Internet cafe with the right computers and software, or my own laptop gives up the ghost, or my camera software acts up, or I forget one crucial element at the hostel, or. . . . Sometimes you just have to long for the days when you took a roll of 24 pictures to Superstore, popped it in an envelope, and picked your fully developed pictures up after lunch (doubles, of course!).

Griping aside, I've had a very active week in Brisbane, mostly spent working all over the place. I got a call from a hospitality agency Monday morning, asking me to come in for an interview on Tuesday. I jumped at the chance given that money matters have been at the forefront of my mind lately. Australia has turned out to be slightly more expensive than I'd hoped and the money always leaves the wallet faster than expected when travelling. Mix that in with "little" concerns like student loan and credit card payments to worry about back in Canada, and you've got one willing worker on your hands.

The interview went well and I was given orientation and a shift right afterwards. I do think it helps that the manager who interviewed me and does much of the scheduling is a Canadian woman from Ontario who seems to have taken a liking to me, in a patriotic sort of way.

On Wednesday morning I was sleeping soundly in bed when the guy who runs the job club at the hostel came into my room and asked if anyone wanted to work today . . . like, now (this seems fairly typical of him). I didn't exactly want to work. But hey, I got's bills to pay, don't I? So I uprooted myself from the bed and made my way to reception. The job in question was unloading a shipping container for 6 hours at $18/hour, or so we were told.

A man picked myself and two other chaps from the hostel up close to 9 a.m. and away we went deep into the suburbs. It turns out we were actually headed to a home construction site where unloading a container would be just one of the things we did. Most of the morning was passed in the following manner: moving pieces of lumber from one side of the yard to another; moving pallets of bricks (one brick at a time) from one pile to another; picking up garbage all over the site; moving bits of scaffolding from in front of the house to the rear. Not the most exciting stuff but at least it was good for the physique and a warm, sunny day to be outside. Later in the afternoon we were required to unload blocks of sandstone tile from the shipping container, which wasn't as bad or heavy as I'd imagined.

All of this would have been just fine, except that the agency also called me on Wednesday morning to inform me that I had to report for work at Brisbane's Suncorp Stadium that evening at 4:30 p.m. It was, after all, the day of the huge State of Origin rugby match, an annual competition between the states of Queensland and New South Wales. Think Labour Day Classic (a match between the Saskatchewan Roughriders and the Winnipeg Blue Bombers every September) for those familiar with the Canadian Football League. This was serious business.

Miraculously, I made it to the stadium at about 4:35, having only finished the construction gig at 3:30, and showering and changing in between. It was great to see the Aussies all riled up about the big game and helped abate my football homesickness a wee bit. However, serving 330 people pre-game dinner and post-game cocktails was not exactly a thrill a minute. The shift finished at midnight and I literally crashed into bed a few minutes later (thanks be to God that the stadium is only a five-minute walk from where I'm staying).

Lo and behold, Thursday morning rolled around quickly and guess what? I had to be at the construction site again at 7 a.m. Getting out of bed wasn't as tough as I'd imagined somehow. Probably because I was still on an adrenalin high from the previous day. The morning's work was deceptively easy as me and my two Italian coworkers, Mario and Alexandro, simply shuffled rubbish and lumber around the yard once again.

It was the afternoon that nearly killed us.

Out came giant slabs of granite tile from the shipping container. Each one required two men to carry them across the construction site, through the house, and up to the second-story master bedroom. Rinse and repeat. About 40 times. We made it through but not without a good amount of discomfort and some sore muscles.

Then the real challenge for the day came: two absolutely massive granite slabs the size of kitchen tabletops had to go the same route. This time six men were required to move each slab slowly up the stairs. One of the guys started calling us the Egyptian construction crew, so pyramid-esque was the fruit of our labour. I guess each slab must have weighed 700-800 pounds.

Thursday night I felt like the walking dead, as I shuffled about making dinner and trying to relax. I actually felt more tired after a two-hour nap than beforehand. Go figure.

Friday and Saturday were relatively normal days by comparison. Friday night's job was at the convention centre for the Brisbane Architecture Awards (another 570 people to wait on!). Finally, last night I was at The Gabba, Brisbane's cricket/Australian Rules Football ground. What a dream job in comparison. All that was required of me was to pour beer and the occassional spirit for four hours. It reminded me of my days as a popcorn jockey back at Cineplex Odeon Coronet Cinemas during high school.

Today is Sunday and, suitably, I have the day off. It's time for me to grab some groceries and lie in the sun a bit, ya think?