Please Sir, I Want More

I woke up to a feeling of disappointment today, at 9.44. I seem to wake up to a feeling of disappointment most mornings of late. It is safe to say that the sparkle has gone out of my time off. (Only because I feel the pressure of earning some money before I am completely broke) It seems to have shifted into a place that is hard describe, and is beyond simple words to say really how I feel. I guess the simplest way to describe it is with that time honoured plea to the universe, There must be more to life than this, surely? There must be something more interesting than going back into the corporate world and getting another tiny corral to lock myself away in on a daily basis that we call an office. There must be more to life than going to deal with managers who have chips on their shoulders and something to prove because the universe endowed them with tiny penis’, or ugly cunts.

Surely?
The sun is shining down crisply, it is sparkling beyond the windows in my balcony doors, as I stood on my two feet, scratched my arse and surveyed the morning countenance.

I slipped downstairs to get coffee and muesli before Guadalupe got here, but she was already in the kitchen with yellow rubber gloves, facemask and cleaning clothes, like some demented surgeon about to begin. I said I just wanted to make coffee and I’d only be five minutes.

“Doesn’t matter.” She waved her hand in the air as if to emphasise the point and then disappeared.

I put the rubbish out as the coffee brewed. Ah, the pesky rubbish, like the pesky washing, it always seems to need to be done.

In the hallway in its tatty cardboard box was D’s vacuum. Guadalupe here today, I wondered if that was the reason why Shane went over to D’s place last night, clearly it was. So, that must be his answer to the vacuum problem. Borrow D’s, keep it until D screams for it, as he must have last week, then take it back, only to call, presumably frantically, the night before Guadalupe is due again and ask, nay, beg for it back, if the performance about getting Sam’s vacuum the day before Guadalupe was due a month, or so ago, was anything to go by. Oh yes, good plan.

Shane’s kind of stuck with the problem, you see, he promised to take it on in the first period of my non-employment when I wanted to get rid of Guadalupe and he argued for her saying that he would take care of everything and I wouldn’t have to do anything at all, except pay the money, of course, out of his rent.

I bet you he didn’t envisage the non working vacuum problem. Of course, his solution of buying a $50 cheapy off the internet was never really a good idea. I’m to understand that it is the repair of the said cheap Dyson knock off that he is, somehow, going to accomplish to solve our… chuckle… his vacuum cleaner woes. That is never going to happen and I predict that I will be slipping in into the garbage bins, or taking it out and depositing it on the front footpath to get rid of it.

I chuckled to myself as D’s vacuum is exactly the same as the vacuum Jill gave me, which is still in the back of my car, except D’s is a red Volta and mine is a green Volta. The newly acquired one is in perfect working order, as it is just that Jill is addicted to buying new things, particularly over the internet and that she has come over all girlie and bought herself a smaller, lighter Dyson to use upstairs, or at least, for her cleaner to use upstairs. Raised eyebrows. Oh, I know, I should just give it to Shane… and it is only complete bitchery, which is stopping me.

Wide eyes.

Actually, it is me allowing him to fulfil his promise of taking care of everything to do with Guadalupe that has thus far stopped me from giving him the new acquired vacuum. The moment I step in and produce the vacuum, therefore solving the problem he seems incapable, or unable, to solve, I feel that the problem of the cleaner will then, at least in part, resort to being my problem, yet again.

Jill has upstairs and downstairs vacuums. She also has a smaller, more portable vacuum to use on smaller messes to be cleaned up around the kitchen. Then, of course, she has an office vacuum, as well, to use in her office, which is at the side of the house. I some times wonder if higher wages are actually doing the planet any good and that one day to stop consumerism to save the planet it will be a political strategy to cut wages so people can’t waste the planets resources. Of course, that will be in the second half of this century when the planet is basically poisoned because the politicians haven’t had the political nouse, or will, to do anything up until that point and it will then be battle stations planet earth and there will have to be the most severe restrictions bought in in the last dying days of the human race in a sad, vain attempt to save the planet, and our sorry arses, not unlike the austerity measures now being used to save the planets financial institutions and lovely Greece... producer of some of the world’s finest sons. Um…er…

I guess, until then, we will drive our four wheel drives and vote Greens to clear our consciences.

But more to the point, when, and why, do you think I have become a negative person? Just be nice to people, be positive and be kind, be generous, I know that is the best, possible, way for us to behave to have a happy, fulfilled life. Why have I become bogged down with the negative?

Hm?

Now I am off to have lunch with Sam… if Guadalupe would ever stop cleaning the frigging bathroom! Get out woman! I've got people to meet, places to beI tell Sam that I can’t get into the bathroom to have a shower. I think he thinks that I am stalling for time, or making excuses, as he replies with Move! With his customary exclamation mark!