A Coupla Days

It was a normal morning. My second last morning before my world, my working world goes back onto shuffle. Okay the music starts again, everybody up. Off we go again, to the next adventure, thanks Jack. Next!

A coupla days.

The house it still hot when I got out of the shower. I felt sweaty standing in my towel. Sam tells me that my showers are too hot. I’m not sure if that is true, or not. I stood in front of the fan, as I slipped out of my towelling dressing gown – have I mentioned before that I think it is my very favourite item of clothing – and into my business shirt. The cool wind blew all over me and I felt chilled and alive, as the tail of each side of the front of my shirt blew back. I love a good cool breeze, no matter where it comes from.

Then it is a few minutes on the dobber scales, that ones that reports back to Sam’s iPhone.

I drive with both my front windows open, in the morning, I love the fresh air. I notice that I am the exception, as nearly every other driver on the road in the morning has their windows up and, I can only assume, their air conditioning on.

Is that putting pressure on the planet? Actually, I think it is, as it is using more fossil fuel than we need to use. It is also putting chemicals in the air from the air conditioning. I think more people drive with their air conditioning on. It is all heading in the wrong direction for the planet, pretty much on every level.

Do we all, essentially, insulate ourselves, closed behind our own chosen barriers too much now to be a harmonious society any more?

I followed a charcoal grey Honda down Victoria Parade, who was on an, apparent, go slow. There seemed to be no excuse for it but, what can I say, fear. She was probably a conservative voter. She wouldn’t go passed the tram. One of my pet hates. Learn to drive woman. I followed her like I was stalking her, quite literally. I was right behind her waiting for her to make the slightest mistake that I could take advantage of. And, of course, she did. She pulled in behind the tram when it looked as though a parked car was going to block her way, which enabled me to shoot passed her and the tram. Home free. So expansive is the road once you have got passed a slow driver and a tram. I was down Victoria Street and over Church Street and speeding up towards Burnley Street as everyone else, the charcoal Honda included, were waiting at the tram stop just a little further on from where I passed the lot.

The dreaded benchmarking remuneration survey. I found out today firstly that we didn’t contribute last year. A bit later, I found out that we hadn’t contributed since 2010. And even later I found out that we have never contributed. 

That meant there would be no existing data available. It meant I would have to reconstruct the whole thing from scratch.

Oh yay! Lucky me. Anything to make it harder, of course. Why do these things happen?

Isaac didn’t dispute any of it. I’m wondering if the all-talk, not so much action, Isaac didn’t complete the part he needed to complete last year, therefore rendering the whole survey void. Maybe that has happened for a few years? (I guess, I believed it was way more likely than maybe)

Cathy said very little. She made big claims to have completed the whole thing last year. (Apparently, not)

Oh, this seemed to be going from bad to impossible.

So there was no previous data to check and use for this year. Isaac said he couldn’t do anything until after lunch. I printed out a list and left it on Isaac’s desk so he could pick the positions he wanted to use. He gave it back to me some time after lunch.

So I headed back to my desk and twiddled my thumbs until Isaac got back to me. Got his shit together. What did I care. Nobody said anything, so I flicked on the internet and read the news. It is the first job where I have ever really done that. I also wrote my journal.

Some time after lunch, Isaac threw the list he’d scrawled on, saying he thought he’d marked off the required positions on which to report. He’d actually marked out 10 too many.

I got it done by the end of the day and it was done. Yay! After all of my whinging in Sam’s ear. I chuckled to myself. It turned out to be pretty easy in the end, actually. I could see the look on Sam’s face when I told him.

We often ate cake. Christine often cooked. Christine was an all-rounder. We had strawberry cheesecake, in the afternoon. It had been in the freezer, since we ate the first half. Christine defrosted it. Or was it Cathy who defrosted it? One of them. We all liked cake day. It was nice with coffee. The strawberry flavour was gorgeous, fresh, real.

Shayleen went to Altona in the afternoon. She loves to eat. She is keen on her food. I thought I should say something to her. Ha, ha, we’re having sweeties, you know, that kind of thing.

Christian [3:35 PM]: We're all eating cheese cake. Yum yum

Shayleen [3:37 PM]: so devo!

Christian [3:40 PM]: Cathy is coughing, although, she didn't have cheesecake so she is not choking on that

Shayleen [3:42 PM]: i was thinking oh she must’ve scoffed a HUGE piece to be choking

Christian [3:42 PM]: lets say she did

Shayleen [3:42 PM]: more interesting

Christian [3:42 PM]: absolutely

It was a warm, humid night. A summer night. We walked to the Shanghai Street Dumpling Shop in La Trobe Street. We couldn’t think of what to cook. Who can, night in and night out? It is impossible. It was a humid night. The restaurant was hot. Singlet’s and shorts were the order of the night. Sam wore thongs. I wore runners.

The place was full of people, as it always is. It was hot too, as it always seems to be.

We ate steamed and fried dumplings. I have to pace myself, otherwise I eat much faster than Sam. We go one for one. One for me, one for you.

Yum, yum, dumplings are fun.

The couple next to us ordered a mountain of food. The boyfriend ate most of it. He shovelled it in, we couldn’t but glance sideways at him.

We went to the Indonesian Supermarket at QV. Laguna. It was empty, as were our heads. Nothing there was inspiring. Sam still wont let me buy choco pies, again. I slipped them into the basket, again. He took them out, again. I’ve never eaten choco pies, he has never let me.

My back was awash with sweat, wet up the middle under my singlet. I was moist and not in the shopping mood. I followed Sam around dragging my feet… almost like a petulant child. Or maybe one that was over tired. I didn’t care. I don’t want to go to the shops, mum.

We went to the Chinese supermarket in Russell Street. It was all light and movement. There were lots of people shopping. We bought noodles and fish sauce, oh, and a few other things I can’t remember now. Sam is in charge of the shopping. I carry the basket, or push the trolley and do as I am told.

We walked home by 9pm. It was a warm night, perfect for walking. We strolled home with our bags, lovely.

Buddy was doing Ewoks at the glass pane in the back door, wanting to be let in. He’s been very enthusiastic when we get home from being out. He’s been very excited these last couple of nights when we come home from being out. I think it is an indication of home much of his time that he spends with us.

Sam went to bed at nana time, 10.40pm. It is amazing how his nana-clock goes off every night at 10.40pm. Like, um, err, clockwork.

I chatted to Mark. He is going to Hanoi on Sunday. I didn’t get a chance to talk to him about (the investment property) as his Skype started to switch off inexplicably. Sam will be cross.

Sam wants us to mortgage ourselves to the eyeballs to buy an investment property. He’s keen. I am not so sure.