Rachel messages me early to say she might drop in at 1pm to give me Leah’s birthday present. That’s good, as I’ve been shitty with Leah too and I think I had better collect her birthday present sooner than later, as I should show at least a little interest.
I’m feeling toey about my future. What am I going to do? It is weighing more heavily on my now, now that I realise how much time I have had off and how I have wasted it and how I am going to have to go back to work. Ah! I so don’t want to. But, I don’t want to waste my life away either.
Oh what to do?
However, I get lost in the newspaper reading and somehow I get onto the new book, published some time ago, from my favourite writer, Sam Shepard. I decide that I could simply walk into town to my favourite bookshop, The Paperback, to see if they have got it.
My conscience is needling me some where in the back of my mind that my current trouble with Shane is actually all stuff that is going on with me. Clearly, something isn't right in what I am doing? It is not a good feeling. My passive aggressive streak is playing up big time and I have to some how reign it in, or it won’t end well. The common denominator here is me, lets face it. I think I did the same to David in the months preceding his moving out. They are not doing what I want and I respond in a passive aggressive way, rather than saying how I feel straight out.
Bad me. The things you are yet to learn, hey?
I think a nice walk will do me good. It’s warm but a bit drizzly, I kind of like it as I walk to the city. They have the book, good old Paperback. I buy DBC Pierre’s new book, Death in Wonderland too and immediately feel guilty about all the other books I have bought this year, which I haven’t read.
I come home and effortlessly read for the rest of the afternoon, before I get restless and want to achieve something.
I look at all the stuff I bought from Bunnings and decide it is now time to act, I have delayed quite long enough. I chop out the hibiscus tree that is threatening to push over the fence. I have finished chopping, it is amazing what a difference a sharp pruning saw makes. I’m sipping on my tea thinking good thoughts about myself, when I see a huge smear of blood on the white cup. I have lacerated the end of my thumb. Bugger. It is cut four times all close to each other and it hurts for days, because any type of use just opens the wounds up again, even though they are small.
Sam arrives at 5.30, Anthony arrives at 6.30 and we get in the car and head to the country for the weekend.
The Calder Highway gets progressively more and more fogged out, until just a few kilometres before Bolago we can barely see a metre in front of the car. It’s a good thing I have driven that road many times, as at any moment I still know exactly where we are.
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