Over the past few weeks I have felt trapped in my little underground burrow of university readings, geographic population reports and Department of Education application process documents, working my little backside off. So far, I'm running at a distinction average for my geography units - something which will definitely slide over the course of the semester - but can feel myself slowly burning out and starting to bounce off the walls. Burning out bright, but burning out none the less.

So I figured I would stick my head up out of my burrow like a little Meerkat into the lifeofsuch world, and tell a story about Hornsby Woolworths and one of its staff members.

I believe he was one of the grocery managers, somewhere in the Woolworths grocery manager food chain, and I was "the Coke guy", making sure there was plenty of coke products on the shelves during the busy easter period. I was working hard, doing stuff... and he was not working at all - but I he was doing "stuff".

By "stuff" I mean every 60 seconds he would dash to the end of the aisle, and frantically search for someone amongst the customers. Then he would return to his ladder, only to race out to the end of the aisle again a minute later.

I aked him, "What are you looking for?"

"Puss." he replied.

"Puss? What do you mean puss?"

"You know, hot puss - I'm on the lookout so that if I see any hot puss I can warn the other boys."

I learned a few things that day... apparently 'hot puss' does not refer to overheated cats. And apparently 'hot puss' is extremely dangerous, so much so that it needs a skinny pasty white guy in oversized pants to spend his entire working day being a Meerkat or Prarie dog on high alert - ready to warn of its approach. I believe it is an official Woolworths Occupational Health and Safety Policy.

I also learned that there are some desperately sick guys out there, who believe their sole existance on this planet is to score with chicks or they will lose their little guy. I also learned that there are guys whom obviously couldn't if their life depended on it.

And thus ends the story of the day... I shall return to my burrow of uni papers.