battle strategies.

I'm going in to this buffet all you can eat thing tonight with a battle plan. After my regular morning what-the-hell-am-I-wearing-nothing-fits-anymore meltdown, I found a baggy tshirt that a gay friend had been given as a gift but which we decided looked too girly, even for him. Which is saying something. It may be the low neckline. Perfect for cleavage. Not so good for man chest.
Anyway, since I don't do baggy so well, I decided to couple this shirt with a stupidly tight pair of jeans. I might have mentioned my weight loss goal was to fit into the jeans I got in Paris? Well, this is them.
You can stop celebrating though, they're clearly about 2 sizes too small. It's only thanks to the long, baggy tshirt that you can't tell.
But!
It has lead to an interesting predicament.. With jeans so tight, I can't possibly gorge myself tonight, and thus, can walk away, diet still marginally intact. Hurrah!! So, predicament isn't the right word, but it's ok, I can't think of anything better right now.

This will be me, by the end of the night. Or not, because of my awesomely small jeans. Even if they are cutting off the circulation to my lower half. That's o.k. {via}

wanted: zombies to perform menial call centre job*.

Tomorrow is my last day of work in this hell-hole!

You have to understand how stoked I am with this. After 3 years I'm just over it. It's been good, the pay has been ok (considering), and I could wear whatever I want to work, but I'm so excited to be leaving.

{via}



Just outside the women's toilets is a poster made by the company, of some of the qualities they want their employees to have. There's a picture of a little man juggling the letters A. S. K.

These stand for:

A Will-Do Attitude.

Appropriate Skills

Relevant knowledge.

Or somethingt to that effect.

It's the first point that gets me: A will-do attitude.

Not can-do.

Not will-try-to-do.

Not give-100%...

No...

Will do.

As in: If I tell you to do something, you will say 'yes sir' and do it.

As in: If management makes a decision, you will abide by it, and do what they tell you, whether you like it or not.

cry baby.

I just finished speaking with my manager about the fact that my last day will be on the 18th of Feb.

As I was talking, I felt my eyes start to tear up a little, which was ok. Until a couple of co-workers sitting nearby, and overhearing this conversation, turned and looked at me in disbelief. Then, one of them- a girl who has admitted being 'pretty bad' at crying at everything (like me), but not 'as bad' as me, says:
"Wow, you really do get emotional over everything!"

{via}

Which has then called attention to the fact that I'm a big crying pussy, and what was just a damp sheen over my eyeballs then becomes actual tears.
Thanks a lot.
And of course I'm laughing at the ridiculousness of the fact that I'm calling it quits and crying about it, because, hey, it's stupid. I'm really looking forward to getting out of here, actually.
And another guy says:
"But you've been here so long!"
And that makes things worse.
Just stop. talking. to. me. And I'll stop crying.
And I have been here so long. I just looked up my Calendar, and I started on the 25th of Feb, 2008. So, I'm JUST shy of my 3 year anniversary.

But you know, I'm really, really looking forward to my forced 2 week holiday. I'm really looking forward to going to the gym with Nic after he finishes work, and not having to eat dinner at 8.30 because of it. I'm looking forward to being able to go to the bank or to a shop that's only open 9-5 because I won't have to leave home at 9, and get home at 7.30. I'm looking forward to not driving to Carlton, to not paying for parking every day. I'm looking forward to walking Mallei and reading about education, and volunteering my time at a primary school so I can get experience. I'm looking forward to writing more, reading more, studying, and not having to drive for 2 hours for a 5 hour shift like I did last year.
I'm really looking forward to visiting my Dad in my between-semester holidays because he'll fly me up to Townsville and I can spend a couple of weeks of winter in a tropical place where it's 25 degrees all day. Or just a week. We'll see. I don't know how long I'll be able to leave Nic and Reya, and I don't think he'll be able to come (although I would LOVE him to come :( ).

So there it is.
As of 18/02 I'll be officially a "Student" and nothing more.
I think a lot of the emotion and the crying comes not from the act of quitting, but from that fact. From being 'out on my own'. From no-longer having my work saftey net. And this place is that- a saftey net. People drift in to this company and don't leave. Because it's comfortable, and easy, and you can wear tracksuit pants and slippers to work if you want. You take calls and go home, and no-one will fire you unless you really badly stuff up, and you get paid on time, and you're sort of near the city and pubs, and if you're like the 'typical' employee, there are plenty of people like you to socialise with.
And when I'm not here, I'm out on my own. I'm not earning money, I'm just getting it. I'm tutoring (which I'm scared to death of), I'm having to socialise on my own, not at work. I'm having to rely on Nic more than I'm ever used to doing. And that's what kept me up last night, and what has made me cry this morning. The finality.. finalisation.. final..ness..? Of it.

hit the pause button.

In a lot of ways I feel as though my life is on hold at the moment.

Plenty of discussions with Nic begin with me saying:
"Next year, when I have a teaching job..."
And up until that point it's like I'm in limbo.

This photo has nothing to do with anything, I just like to see my kids loving on one another.

A lot of that has to do with the fact that I have no money. So it's like:
"Em, do you think we should replace my old car with a different one that'll cost $8k? Or should we wait until we run this one into the ground?"
And I think about it, and I know my ex had an old car which he planned to run into the ground, and it ended up costing a ridiculous amount to fix the car because problems would just keep popping up, again and again. In the end he spent a couple of grand to fix the problems, then sold the car to the scrap heap for about $250. So not worth it. But at the same time, I'm not going to be working, so Nic unnecessarily taking out a car lone while trying to support both of us on $20 an hour isn't so hot. So I say:
"Well, next year, when I have a teaching job, you won't have to pay for so much. So we can save up, and we can get another car. And if problems come up with your car in the meantime, we'll deal with them now."

tired & cranky..

So I had a terrible night's sleep.

I don't recall if I wrote about when we had to take Mallei to the emergency vet. My brain is all fuzzy from no sleep, so apologies if I did already.

Basically, our dog is a pig. A pig in dog clothing. He burps and farts, and likes to walk through muddy puddles, and eats. Oh, he loves to eat. Which is fair, he is a dog. Or a pig-dog.
He used to throw up every now and then, in the middle of the night. Google reccomended feeding him something before going to sleep. We introduced the 'bedtime biscuit'; a simple charcoal infused dog biscuit. On the third night after the biscuit had been introduced, he expected it. It was his damn birthright to eat this biscuit before bed. If I forget to bring it with me after brushing me teeth, he snuffles around and looks gloomy until I go get it. The kitten is insanely interested in this biscuit, so sniffs around at his feet as he attempts to inhale every last crumb, lest her teeny-tiny kitteny mouth steal some of it. I'm glad he's just an amazing dog (that I did an amazing job training, if I do say so myself), and he doesn't get 'protective' and aggressive over his food.
Anyway, he loves food.
My bad- positive training via food-based rewards has spawned a food loving demon who will flip out every trick in his book (which is fairly long and extensive) just to get... well, whatever you have that could be tasty.

BEDTIME BISCUIT!!!!

So a few weeks ago, I left for work in a hurry. When we got the kitten back in December, we found this great kitty littler made of wheat, no chemicals, safe to eat, clumping, no smell, and cheap. Awesome, right? Except that Mallei saw this as a golden opportunity- unlimited supplies of cereal! Which I realized after about 3 days, and we built a makeshift gate. Well, on this morning when I left for work, I forgot to close said gate. Nic and I came home that evening to a happy dog, as always, who then proceeded to gulp water like he never has before. I looked in the laundry and noticed that the kitty litter was severely depleted. And yes, this is terrible and disgusting, but he just likes to eat. He'd had an all-day wheat party, had drunk water, and it had puffed up in his stomach. He wanted outside. Bad.
Stumbling around the front-lawn, which had been mowed that very day, he attempted to find any piece of grass long enough to eat. He was having a grass feast now, and looking twice his normal size. Afraid of him getting bloat, we went to the animal emergency center on their recommendation, where they admitted him straight away and induced vomiting. Yum.

He came out of there about an hour later looking chipper and probably wondering where his next meal (or bedtime biscuit) were. We went home.

Yesterday, Nic went out for about 2 hours, and game home to the gate ajar. And Mallei was fine all day, although his water had been rationed as he tends to gulp and slurp it everywhere- more going on the floor than in his mouth. Then we went to bed, where he proceeded to burp and fart as only a man can, and threaten vomiting. I'm a light sleeper at the best of times, and moreso when I'm afraid my dog is on the verge of death. So, I pander to his every need- he gets up and shakes his collar (signal that he wants to wake me up so I let him out), I peel myself out of bed, stumble through the dark, and wait, naked, by the back door, as he scuttles around on the pebbles outside. He comes back in, Reya and I have a cuddle and get comfortable and fall back asleep.
This goes on every 2 hours, and about 3 times between 5.40 and 6.30. The last time I let him out I tell him he can just bloody well stay there, and go back to bed. At 7am, he's whining by the door and my alarm goes off.
He seems ok, now, though doesn't like drinking much. I'll keep an eye on him. Idiot dog.

Anyway, at the end of all that, my job at work is to be cheerful to people and try and sell them into giving me their money, which, if I'm tired, can't concentrate and I'm grumpy probably won't go down so well. Also when I'm super-tired, I tend to cry. So if someone is rude to me on the phones at work, I'll cry.
I'm having a sick day; I've cried enough times at work (sad, but true. That being said I cry at most things, and it's more a physiological response than a psychological one since I'm usually laughing about whatever it was that got me stressed out/upset in the first place). Time to go to the doctor's. Blah.

Dr. Mallei to the rescue.

adrift in a sea of unemployment...

Oh lordy. That title sounds so melodramatic. And no, I haven't been fired.

But here's the thing. I go back to Uni in March.

I'm on... well, the equivilent of Welfare, I guess, for students.

Were I to earn $0, I would get $440 a fortnight from my 'Youth allowance'. I can also earn up to $236 (all in a fortnight) (so, so arbritary) and still get $440.

Then, the more I earn at work, the less I earn through Centrelink.

Which is ok, I could work a little bit and earn a little bit, and get about $600 a fortnight. Right?

WRONG

Ok..

So that was like, super ominous.

The problem comes from the fact that I have a few shares (ie: quite a number, as investments my mum & grandparents have been putting away for me since I was born), and a money gift from my grandparents that subsequently earns me interest- about $100 a FT. Plus the shares, they figure I'm "earning" about $200 a FT from those things.

Which then means, every dollar I earn, cuts my Centrelink by 50c to the dollar.

Well, Em, what the hell does that mean? (I hear you ask). I asked myself the same thing for the last 10 or so months. It's a brilliant system when the people using it can't even figure it out.

Basically, last year, I worked 5 hours a week- 10 hours a fortnight, thinking I'd be sneaky and earn $235 a FT from work,. adn get my full Centrelink. I've now worked out that if I do this, I will earn $100 less from Centrelink.

So effectively, I earn half of what I work. I'm working for half my wage. I don't know if that makes sense. But if we forget that the $100 comes out of my Centrelink and just think that it is deducted from my pay, I work 10 hours, and earn $100. That's like, $10 an hour. Which is stupid. And shit.

Pardon my language.

I scoured the internet looking for some sort of awesome picture to put here, like, an unemployment joke, or something, but nothing came to hand. So here's something random instead. I don't know what it is yet because I haven't found it- I'm still searching. Ok scrap that, google fails today. Continuing on.

 

So I think, maybe I can work twice as much! If I work like, 16 hours a FT, I'd earn about $350, which means my Centrelink would be cut by about $180.... which then means I'm still working for a grand total of $10 an hour (all approximate, of course). And really, I think I'm worth more than that. PLUS, studying a Masters degree, I don't really have time for a heap of work.

I know it's a bit late for a cut, but I feel like this is going to be a long 'un.

i have no interesting title...

Alright, a general sort of update-post, and musing about work, which I understand isn't the most exciting subject but so it goes.

So, I work for a health insurance company- one of the country's biggest. I'm at a call-center, outsourced by that company, and usually I act as a sort of soft-core debt collector. Since people don't go into debt with us, it's more a friendly reminder that their bill is outstanding, which is fine. Though, the reactions of people when I call can be somewhat hilarious if they think I AM a debt collector, and I have to gently let them know that I'm not. And they appologise and try to convince me that they're usually good at paying, and appologise some more... but that's ok. Hey, I wouldn't want a call from someone telling me I hadn't paid my bill...
But sometimes, I have to try and retain members who want to close their policy.
We used to be able to freeze their membership for 2 months, effectively giving them '2 months free' where they didn't have to pay. Awesome. Just lost your job? No problems. On a pension? Have some saving time. Going through a rough patch? This should help... But not any more.
So here's a scenario: Dear old Betty calls up. She's 83.


There she is. She looks peeved. I'd be peeved too. Remember how I said I needed more pictures on here?

 The main things she'll need would be dentures, heart surgery, and a hip replacement. Maybe a hearing aid, too. This makes for a very, very expensive cover. I'm talking $130 a month expensive, assuming she's had cover since 2000, which I'll assume she has, because most of them have, and have been paying a fortune for years. Now $130 isn't TOO bad... but it's pretty bad on a pension. So my job is figuring out what Betty needs... convincing her how her membership will provide her with these things, adjust her membership accordingly, and thank her very much for her time. But often, for Betty, the recently or long-term unemployed, the single-parent with 3 kids, or whatever... it's a case of eating... or paying for health insurance. And you know what, it's INSURANCE. It's a just-in-case. It's not something to sustain your family. Hell, if the single parent told me they wanted the money to take their kids to the movies and a game of mini-golf, I'd say go for it.
But I'm not supposed to.
And I can't do what they want me to do because it's not right to do that. I'm meant to put up a fight. To 'handle' their 'objections'.
"Oh, Betty, you won't be able to afford your groceries and medication this week? But at least, if you get sick in the future, you'll be able to go into the private hospital... If you have an accident? No, then you'll go through the public system. What's that? If you don't tell them you have insurance? Yes, your treatment WILL be free... no, there's no guarentee that by having insurance you won't pay anything. In fact, you're almost guarenteed to have something to pay. Yes, I know that it makes no sense that you're paying monthly for something just so you can pay again when you need to use it, but that's the system we're dealing with here."

Ugh.
And it's not so bad now, but we used to get paid based on how many of these people we could convince to stay. We still do, to a degree, but it's nothing as bad as it was.

So that's a rant. And I will take the moral highground and close Betty's membership, management be damned if they don't like the way I operate.


On a more positive, and possibly interesting note (more interesting than me rambling on about my morals? Unimaginable!), we had quite a good weekend. Saturday was too hot to do much, but Sunday was cool, a little drizzly, but good for a drive.
We hit up probably 8 or so 'potential' venues. We liked one town hall (that I thought would be scummy but had awesome windows and surrounded by a bit of bush), found one winery, and right across the road were some 'formal' gardens...
The winery, Acacia Ridge, in the Yarra Valley is run by a husband and wife team. On wednesday, they're erecting a permanent gazebo next to the 1850's miner's cottage they have on the property. It's almost like being in their backyard in a lot of ways, but in that, it feels very relaxed, casual, and cool. The outlook is spectacular. It was a cloudy day, and most of the mountains were obscured but the view was STILL awesome.
The owner told us he made money by selling wine, not through weddings. I get the feeling that enough people (including his kids) approached them about holding a wedding there that they caved, and do it 'on the side'. I like that they're not trying to gouge people their money. In fact, if we did our own catering, he'd charge $10p/p for the use of the grounds... which, with what I've heard is a 'good caterer', would mean we could be looking at $45p/p which is MUCH more reasonable than $100. It also just felt like a family thing. He was talking about how he could cater, but he'd be getting Dad, and Father-in-law to help with the steaks, or do this and that, and wanted to involve OUR families in the day... which was really nice. Plus there was a really nice open grassy space for umbrellas and blankets, and it just felt really nice. Plus, me, the picky wine drinker, LOVED their pink wine- sweet, delicious.. we bought a bottle, and a bottle of muscat...um, I forget.. but it's like strong wine. Anyway, very tasty stuff.
We also went to Alowyn gardens, which we saw by accident as we drove away from Acacia ridge. Nic managed to sweet-talk his way in for free (usually a $9 admission) by telling them about the wedding. There's a looooooong arch looking on to a fountain, with speakers in the arch... and it's a semi-formal garden with some little hedges, but also a grove of fruit trees, and lots of flowers... and it's not the ideal thing that I wanted (under a big tree!!!) but... it was still nice. $750 for the ceremony for 3 hours, so time for drinks in their courtyard area... apparently the archway thing is quite waterproof so is VERY outdoors/indoors in a cool way...
Plus, maybe, the flowers would still be out!

The archway from the little hedge thingie, Wisteria flowers out... preeeeety!

From inside the arch, in Autumn, looking to the fountain, where we would stand (I guess). Guests would sit in the archway area.

This is all very exciting! It means we have potential venues (!!!!), though I still want to look at the Mornington Peninsula, I'm not feeling so depressed now about the whole thing costing many many moneys. If we were to do it at these places I reckon we could keep it under 10k without too much trouble. Which would be really nice!

omg he's wearing sneakers to a wedding....!

I snapped at a girl at work today.
A girl who is completely infatuated with a man she's known for 6 months, where she's decided the date they'll be getting engaged, that they'll be having a 100k wedding (yes, $100,000), she's picked out the ring she wants, etc... It's all very fast, and she's not yet 21. Eek. Anyway, this isn't the point, because that's fine- you have the right to do what you want, and what makes you happy, and good on you... which is the point.

She was looking at, I assume, wedding blogs today. Or pictures of weddings. Or something. And I hear from across the room:
"Oh, they're a really gorgeous couple. Don't you think? Look, he's so handsome... and she's pretty too. Don't they make a really pretty couple...?" Silence for a minute then a shrill shriek; "Oh, she's SO ugly!!! And she's not wearing makeup!! Why wouldn't you wear makeup to your wedding!? Don't you think she's ugly?!!?" (this to another coworker, who responds: "Um... I think she looks fine...") "Well, I don't understand why you wouldn't wear makeup to your wedding. Yuck." And I'm thinking: I don't see the problem with it...
Then there's silence for a while longer.... and I hear another shriek.
"OH MY GOD.... he's wearing SNEAKERS to his WEDDING. What an IDIOT!!! Why would you do that?? You can't do that!! You can't wear SNEAKERS.... to a WEDDING!!! That's just so stupid!!"
At which point, I had to chime in.
I said: "He can wear whatever he wants to his wedding. It's his wedding. That's the point. If he wants to wear sneakers he can wear sneakers if it makes him happy. You don't HAVE to do anything at a wedding. There's no rules, you have to do what YOU want or it's not your wedding. Nic wants to wear converse to our wedding, and that's awesome."
Dead.
Silence.
I laugh.
"I take it from the silence that you're unimpressed."
She says; "... SERIOUSLY... You're going to let him wear converse?!?!?!"
"Sure. If he wants to, why the hell not?"

And it just made me cringe. The blatant judgements, the shunning of these women on their beautiful wedding day for something she doesn't deem appropriate. No wonder the Wedding Industrial Complex is what it is, and there's such criticism of women by women. We're always judging. It's impossible to turn off, I think, but jeez it peeved me off. Just because your wedding will cost $100k doesn't mean ours has to. Just because you want heels doesn't mean I do. And you know what? My wedding, my MARRIAGE isn't going to be any less kick-assingly-awesome because of it!! In fact, I'll probably have a more awesome time because of it. Feet not killing me from wearing heels? Check. Budgets in-tack after wedding? Check. Happy FH who got to wear wicked shoes? Check. I think I'll take that, and you can keep your criticisms to yourself, if that's quite alright.

(And by the way, I have nothing against people wearing heels, or not wearing chucks, or whatever... but I hate the idea that things are going to be worse because of, or despite those things..It's so insignificant, surely.)
(Also whenever I write WIC I think "Walk in closet")

Putting some awesome pictures below the cut just to prove my point.

on being normal... or why I don't get smashed at work parties.

Just before Christmas there were two Christmas parties for work- one for the whole company, so where a couple of hundred people I don't know would have gone to get drunk and try and sleep with one another.
The other party was just for our section of the company, so Nic wouldn't have been allowed to come. There was two hours of free drinks provided.

The first, people didn't mind so much that I didn't go, because hardly anyone from our team went. The second, I'd given an indication that I might go, but only until finished work (so I'd be there from about 4.30 to 6ish, then we'd leave. We were driving home together). I don't really drink. They tend to have 'drinks runs' at work on Friday arvo, where people spend their pay on a 6 pack (or whatever), drink it at work, then go home. I don't think I've ever bought drinks in a drinks run. I don't go out, and I never really have. So I'm getting pressure from co-workers to go to this party, get smashed, go crazy. I go, I'll say, but not for long. To which they give me a look. Like I'm being deprived.
When I said I didn't think I'd go to one girl, she looks astonished and says: "Just come out and be SOCIAL!"
And I think about the coffee I'd had with a friend the evening before and wonder how or why that is any less social than going out, getting so intoxicated that you don't make any sense, make a fool of yourself, fall asleep in a pile of drool, and wake up not remembering a thing. Because let's face it, that's what they're taking about. It's not a sophisticated wine at a clean bar somewhere- it's a divey pub with sticky floors.
Maybe I should have gone and said hello, but then as soon as I said I was leaving, I would have gotten the same treatment.
In the end, I was watching people getting ready- a flurry of activity as girls madly straightened their hair in the bathroom, boys smoked outside and cracked open their third can of JD and coke (at 4.30pm, mind you)... and then girls started applying concealer to mosquito bites on their legs. These girls are married and engaged. And they're worried about a couple of red spots on their legs. For a party in a room with minimal lighting where nobody could care less. This was the point I decided 'enough is enough', and very quietly made my exit.

Because here's the thing. By leaving early, my life could continue like this:

Nic drives me home, we have a chat about our day, some nice time with just the two of us (not having to shout over music or getting drinks spilled on us), as we ponder over dinner and miss our furkids.
We get home, greeted happily by Mallei who has been inside all day and is just mega-stoked to see us, but really needs to pee. The kitten hasn't figured out how the front door yet, so gets stuck behind it again, and we have a laugh. We bustle inside and head out almost immediately to take Mal for a walk in the last of the sunshine for the day. This is another nice time for just the two of us to talk and relax and unwind. We head home. Nic starts on dinner while I feed the animals, then spend some time playing with Reya and Mal. We eat, relax, watch an episode of one of our tv shows, then head to bed at about 10 or 10.30 where we cuddle up and talk about nothing for another half an hour as the kitten races around and plays in the bath, skidding around corners and 'glomping' up and down the hall. Mal sighs from his bed, like he's too old for this crap, but is secretly fascinated by Reya's antics. And then we go to sleep. If it's a friday night, we have a sleep in till about 8, and then have the whole day to get out and about, to run or cycle or paddle, to cook or garden or go shopping, or whatever we want...

I think the alternative- of succumbing to pressure and 'getting smashed' at the party- would have been much less enjoyable. I'm just sick of that being the norm, and for me being weird or unsociable for not wanting to go down that route. Were it not for work, I wouldn't speak to or socialize with any of those people, so why is making a fool of myself in front of them apparently a prerequisite for a harmonious work environment? I know, I could go out and only have a drink or two, but then there's still the 'party-pooper' mentality if I try and leave before I'm completely off my face.

Grow up, people. There's more to life than that.
 (and I'm not just saying that because I'm a soon-to-be-grumpy-old-wife ;) )

and they asked, why?

When I told the people at work that I was engaged, this is what they said:

"Really? But why?"

So, I get it. I'm working with kids (figuratively, not literally (yet)). With people who love going out every weekend and getting sh-faced, and when they can't remember what they did Saturday night, it must have been a good night. We get paid every second thursday, and quite often they're 'broke' by Monday, and (god forbid) barely able to buy cigarettes on the wednesday before pay day. They are drifters, who don't know what they want to do. Maybe they'll become a Team Leader (of a team in the call center), because, well, they've worked on the phones for long enough that that's probably the next logical step. They complain about the pay, the customers, and job, but they stay on because it's easy, and if you do ok, you'll get $23 an hour and hey, that buys a lot of booze. Sometimes they leave. Six months later they'll be back, as though nothing happened.
I work here too, right? But for me, it's always been a time-filler. It will have filled 3 years in Feb. That's a little ridiculous, but it's been what it needed to be: A way to save money for my trip to Europe, a way to get out of school for a year or 2 and just make money, work full time, meet people. A way to work very little while I do my Masters, by being flexible enough to let me work when I want. A group of us 'oldbies' did a 'point of view' survey yesterday. One of the aspects we brainstormed was on 'Belonging'- what makes you stay within the company and within the project? My brutally honest answer: the fact that I can work 5 or 10 hours a week while I'm at school. That I can take 2 weeks unpaid leave for teaching rounds. That I can work full time over winter and summer holidays. That I can still take 6 weeks leave and know I have a job to come back to.

But it only just stuck me, 2 months after my engagement to Nic, that some people here had asked why. Not everybody, that'd be a generalisation. But enough.
Why do we do anything? Why date somebody? Why work here? Why move house, or get married or have children either? Some of those have logical answers of course, but why get engaged? I still don't know what the answer to that is meant to be.
Because I want to?
Because I like him? (I love him, this is just a bit of an inside joke)
Because I'm happy?
Because we want to get married, eventually?

I don't know- are you MEANT to have an answer to that question? It's not really a question you get asked! I didn't think so, anyway.
Who knows, maybe they were trying to suss out if I was pregnant or something.