Monday, March 18, 2024

Saturday, March 16, 2024

Maybe I'm Weird

Sam got home around 5.30pm yesterday and he clearly wasn't talking to me. And when he decides not to speak to me, it is total.

Sam is still not talking to me this morning and you know what, I don’t really mind it. I used to try and fight it and make him speak to me, on the very rare occasions that this happens, and that was stressful, but now, I find, relaxing into it, I kind of like it. 

I can do silence, it is oddly calming. No need to speak, no need to answer questions, no need to have anything to say. There is a part of me that kind of likes it. It makes me wonder if I'd like one of those silent retreats?

Anyway, you know, being the weird little loner that I, allegedly, am, I'm almost happiest in my own world, just writing everything is nice. And, you know, Sam spends a lot of his time telling me what to do, and this is sort of a relief. 

I could get to like this, I know, maybe I’m weird.


Friday, March 15, 2024

Friday

Oh, groan, back to the rental, to find out the model number of the cook top and to clean some more. Please let this be the last time. I'm so over it. Don't tell Sam. Oh, he knows, I find it hard to hide my displeasure. I just want it to be over, and it will be over next week when the new tenants move in.


I exhaled the wrong way, or too obviously, through my nose when I was putting on my shoes, and Sam cracked the shits.

"You don't have to go, don't worry. I'll go myself." 

You know, the people who don't drive, who have never bothered to put in the time and energy to get their licences can't really complain when their dedicated unpaid chauffeur doesn't particularly feel up to driving them about, there is always public transport, never the less...

"What?" I asked. Half heartedly, you know as if what he said was somehow ambiguous, yes that is true, it was very half hearted. And despite myself, maybe with just the slightest hint of hope at not going. You know, sometimes you can't help those things.

And Sam had packed a backpack in no time and had marched out the front door. And was gone.

Truthfully, I was beginning to feel a little unwell again after eating lunch, and was a bit annoyed with myself at feeling unwell again, if I was feeling anything, that was really what the tired exhale was all about as I put on my shoes.

I didn't argue, though, bad me. After asking, what? I said nothing else until Sam left. I didn't say, you are being ridiculous, I just kept quiet.


I'm feeling tired and lacking in energy, that's why I was exhaling loudly. Truthfully. I don't want to be sick.

Sam knew I didn't want to go, though, that is true.

He thought... oh, I guess you get the picture.


Thursday, March 14, 2024

I Feel Better

I feel better today.

Actually, not so much this morning, I was still a bit seedy this morning, when I took the dogs for a walk. I saw the will-you-clean-up-the-skerrick-of-poo-off-the-footpath-after-I'd-picked-up-my-dog's-poo guy, from the other side of the road. He gave me a look. I held his gaze, oh, I had to, momentarily, then I turned away thinking, you have a good day, mate.

I don't know what made me sick? Dizziness and vomiting? Nah, I don't know? I want to say food poisoning, off-food, but they aren't really the symptoms of bad food.

I made a full recovery by this afternoon, though. I listened to music.

I feel better now.

I can't complain. No-one listens anyway, you know, as 'they' say.

Sam bought a new Apple Watch, he gave me the run down on it, I'm still not really sure what it has that his old one didn't have. I got his old watch, of course. This one's face is always illuminated, I guess that was a (first world) problem with my old one. I haven't really noticed yet. But there were times, I remember, when I had both my hands full and I wanted to know the time - oh, yes, I know, a watch telling the time is pretty quaint - and I have tried to get the screen to light up by touching it with my nose. That never worked.


Wednesday, March 13, 2024

I'm Sick

4am. I roll over in the middle of the night and the room spins so severely that I just have to hang on and hope it will stop.

WTF? It is sudden and shocking.

Then I start to sweat so badly, I am cold if I pull the doona off me, but am hot if I pull the doona over me.

I try rolling onto my side again, and the room spins again, although not as badly as the first time, maybe it is because I am ready for it.

I get up and have a piss and put my towelling dressing gown on for the sweating and get back into bed.

At some point, I take my dressing gown off again as I was too hot.

8:30am. Otto jumps on the bed with me in it alone and I roll over to hug him and the room starts to spin again. Then I stretch out across the bed and lie on my stomach and really feel sick and the room spins and I think I am gonna vomit and I go to the bathroom and while the sensation of going-to-vomit lasts for some time, I don’t actually vomit.

Sam comes up stairs and finds me squatting in front of the toilet, moaning.

Sam gets me a bucket so I can lie in bed without the fear of vomiting over everything. Sam gets me headache tablets. 

Then he jokes that he hopes it wasn’t tasty cheesy off which he knocked the mould, or the chicken he bought on special at Coles because of its immanent use by date.

I tried to laugh, but I can’t.

Otto comes bouncing back upstairs while Sam is gazing at me. Sam tells me Bruno is under the bed sleeping still.

8:35am. I call Boris but she is on the tram and she says she has to call me back.

It’s raining outside.

9am. I stupidly, I rolled over and look under the bed to see Bruno, I have some idea about getting him up on the bed with me, as a big comfort bear, and everything spins and I start to vomit into my bucket and I vomit quite a few times but nothing really comes out. Bruno comes out from under the bed and stands next to me and watches me vomiting for a while and then he rushes out of the room and heads downstairs.

Sam comes upstairs saying something about Bruno coming downstairs to tell him something. “Are you all right?”

9.15am. Boris calls back. We chat about what has to be done. 

I fall asleep.

9:55am. I wake up to vomit again. It’s awful vomiting when the room is spinning. The heaving and retching go on for what seems like forever.

I can taste sesame seeds, or something like that. 

Ollie hops up on the bed and sleeps next to me. He climbs up onto my stomach and while I think that is not going to be good for me, it turns out it is. He is only light, after all.

Midday. Sam wakes me up to see if I’m okay.

I am wondering why he woke me up and he tells me he is dealing with all the things he has to do for the tenants to move into his rental. Some renters signed up at the first inspection.

I’m surprised it is midday.

12:10pm. I get up. I think I’m feeling better. I put on a T-shirt and as I’m pulling on my track pants the whole room starts to spin. I say out loud what the hell is wrong with me? I hold onto the bed end to steady myself.

I empty my sick bucket And I have a pee.

I sit on the side of the bed, but I don’t regain feeling as well as I did a few moments ago. Ollie is pestering me for pets.

12:15pm. I take my track pants off again and get back into bed.

12:20pm. Sam comes upstairs and says he’s got ginger so he can make congee. I say I want toast, but Sam insists it should be congee.

I feel a bit shaky again, it’s as if getting up and putting on my T-shirt and track pants took away all my energy, or caused a relapse of whatever the hell this is. I’m not really hungry, well it’s kind of odd it comes and goes.

I pull the doona up to my chin in a comforting way.


I think to myself, I’m not really frightened of dying, what the hell else is there left to do in life? I’m in Fitzroy where else would I want to be? I don’t feel bad about saying that, even though I am kind of joking, but half serious too. Of course, I don’t want to die, but you know I think about it, the only really bad thing would be leaving Sam, I don’t wanna leave him.

I think of David, who is always saying he is done with life, and I laugh.

Listen to me I’ve been sick for something like eight hours, imagine all those people who fight for life for the longest time, nyr, good for them.

And organ donation, what’s that about? Imagine if one of your organs had to live on in some thoroughly objectionable person? Could you imagine? If a conservative voter got my liver?

Funny the things you think when you are in the grip of illness.


12.45pm. I go downstairs and eat my conjee.

I still don’t feel great, but at least I feel better.

And a day off, the consolation prize to be sure.

Oh yes, I checked the other day, I don't know why, other than my eye surgery when I had a week off, I haven't had a sick day since 2019.

I googled the symptoms, really it could be anything from an inner ear infection to brain cancer and just about everything in between. Don't google your symptoms.


Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Walking The Dogs

As we cross over King William Street, as we approach the Blue Chilli Café there is a possum on the footpath, I don’t know, 20 metres in front of us. (I have no idea, really, but not right in front of us, some way ahead of us) 

There is a lesbian couple sitting at the tables outside the Blue Chili Café and one of them looks very concerned about the possum with two Bulldogs coming down Brunswick Street. She reminded me of James Garner. 

I’m not at all sure what she thought I was going to let the bulldogs do? Tear the possum apart in front of them? Presumably? Why else would we have switched over to panic stations, I ask you? 

Anyway, she gets up like the Bionic Man and starts to run up Brunswick Street towards us. I could almost hear the Steven Austin music start to play, I wanted to laugh. No, seriously? Get a grip you idiot. 

A moment later, the possum turns, it may, or may not have spotted the bulldogs, and runs up the nearest tree. I'm not at all sure the bulldogs even saw it.

Bruno, Otto and I stopped at the Blue Chili to drink some water from the dog bowl provided at the front door. The lesbians are sitting right outside the front door. The girlfriend reminded me of Harvey Keitel. 

I chat to some guy waiting in the doorway who says that Bulldogs were the original Looney Tunes hero. I say something like, “Hey he’s my hero, my hero.” The guy and I laugh. 

The guy says, “Anything you want, Spike, anything you want.” We both laugh again.

Bruno, having finished drinking, shakes his head and multiple Catherine Wheels of juicy bulldog saliva – oh, come on, it is most just excess fresh water from around his big gob – fly through the air covering the lesbians, whack, whack, whack, whack, whack, who, both sitting right next to the dog bowl, visibly recoil.

I say, “Oh yes, sorry, they do do that.” I tug on the dog leads and make a clear get away with the Bulldogs, for once in their non-working dog lives, setting off with me just as quick. 

Thank the universe for that legendary lesbian sense of humour? (Oh come on, it’s funny) is all I can think. 


Sunday, March 10, 2024

And Then It Is Sunday

And suddenly it is Sunday, the days go by quicker and quicker, I swear.

I'm up early. I had a rather disturbing dream about a previous colleague/manager. Belinda H who, clearly in the grip of anorexia, ruled the finance department like a skeletal poster child for Donald Trump, making everyone in the department hate their job having to work under her until she'd fired each of us for some made up reason. I always guessed it was on the days her body dysmorphia was at its worst, that she’d stride out into the main office {think the scream of a T-Rex}  and pick a victim to destroy just to make herself feel better. In the dream I was transferred to her department to be her assistant. (in real life, I'd stopped talking to her long before she sacked me because she was just so unpleasant to deal with) Oh the horror! I was forced to sit with her,(I could smell the evil exuding from her pores like battery acid) together we solved all the departments long standing financial problems, me feeling I was in a hostage situation.

She needed an assistant as she spent most of her time in the company's sex room, down the staircase next to her office. She gazed at me in a self satisfied kind of way.

I sat up in bed with a start. "Ah! What the hell?" I was sitting up at 6am thinking, I must never go into that room. Wide Eyes. It is not an image to which I want to give any thought. Oh? Er? You could never unsee that.

Where does this shit come from?

And then I was awake. 


I switch off the air-con and I head downstairs. It was still dark outside.

I'm drinking coffee with Milo in front of the fan. The house is hot, as you may well imagine. I open the window and the back door but it is no cooler outside. Nobody else is up, just me and Milo, cuddled up to my left leg, in a rather 'too hot' kind of way, but he has to get his love where he can when the dogs aren't around, so I don't push him away.

We take the dogs for a walk at 8am. And it was hot already, there was a coolish breeze, but the sun was already hot.

The whole neighbourhood is walking its dogs before the heat.