I cleaned the dishes from last night, as he showers, there was a pile to fight through to find the sink and everything was covered in green slime. Did you use every pan in the place, Sebastian?
I gaze down at the broken dinner plate in the recycled bin... I wonder about it being in the recycle bin.
I wave Sam good bye at the door. I hang over the front gate and wave until he disappears around the corner at the end of the street… blowing kisses.
I took my coffee and went back to bed until Shane went to work. Of course, as I do. A quick look at the day and then scamper back to somewhere where it is dark and quiet.
I got up to play with photos on my PC for a short time, I told myself. The thing I most like doing, is the biggest waste of time.
I was out of pot my midday. It was to be my last bag, this was it, no more. I promised Sam. Not that he required a promise, but I certainly can’t get into the habit of smoking pot here at home, otherwise, let’s face it, I’ll never work again.
I text Guido at 12.53. He wasn’t going to be around until tomorrow. Bugger! Or I could drive all the way out to his place. Bugger! I didn’t go to his place, but I should have.
The phone rang all morning. It was one of those days.
The twilight home manager called to say she had lost the cheque and could I cancel it and write her another one.
I wondered how you stop a cheque. I mean, can you do it by phone?
I spoke to my sister Gill about an investment property we are putting up for auction on Saturday. My mother has a couple of investment properties, she had become very passive with her investments over the years, age caught up with her, we have decided to be more aggressive. She owns the worst house in one of the very best streets in Melbourne, but due to the poor nature of the house, it returns a relatively modest income. It's a great old house, it has effectively been in our family for years. It was my dad's next renovation project when he died ten years ago. If we sell it, though, because the land value is so high, we can buy a modern unit, or units, which will bring in more than twice the income... and there may be just a little left over for me and my brother, who could both do with a little money about now.
Truthfully, in the long term it is probably the worst thing for me, I should get off my fat arse and either write a novel, or get a job. I should be doing one of those things, nothing else, there are no other options. I've just had seven months off and I have pissed it all away, I could have... If I got money now... oh, what the fuck! Just worry about today and tomorrow, as a wise friend told me recently. Just worry about today and tomorrow, that is all you can do... that's all there is.
The real estate agent is now saying a price well below the price we have based everything on. Fuck him, we both said. We have no need to sell it.
I wondered if I should have asked Gill how to stop a cheque… after I had hung up. Raised eye brows.
The twilight home manager called back to say she had found the cheque.
“No… no, I haven’t cancelled it yet.”
Anthony called. He is having trouble with his emails. "I can't work out this retched thing!"
Well, if you put a little more water with it, my dear.
Mark said he cried at the thought of everything he has left behind. He thought about returning to Bolago, just absentmindedly, and it all hit him.
Shane bought home fish and chips.
I’d smoked cigarettes all afternoon. It was a perfect, sunny day, it was sparkling out in the back yard, in the dappled light from the big gum tree, when I went out there.
What a glorious, sunny day. We are having the most lovely weather.
I essentially did nothing all day. Ah, the life of the unemployed.
The day sparkled, a cool breeze blew. I got out in the garden and swept a bit and got my Vitamin D requirements.
Shane came home with fish and chips.
I’m still pissing around on my PC, when I hear Shane fumbling about in the pot shoebox. “Have you got cigarettes?” he asks.
I head straight out to the lounge, collecting my dinner on the way. Shane mulls up enough for three joints. I decide to stay for all of them and not return to my computer. The TV is on, easy. Shallow? No!
After Shane rolls the last joint, at 22.30, he heads to bed. I only had to put in two hours to get three joints, or part there of, that’s not such a bad deal.
Bad Christian!
I head to my computer after Shane goes to bed.
I went to sleep at 3am.
Pissing around. Pissing around.
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