David Leaves Us

6.30am. I was up. I’d had full on dreams none that I could remember as soon as I was awake. I hate that as I always want to write them down. The day was already light.

6.45am. I switch on my work computer.

Milo comes in his cat door. “Meow, meow.” He rubs against my legs.

7.20am. Sam was up. He tells me how restless Bruno was last night after I fell asleep, wanting to head downstairs for a pooh. David was downstairs watching ‘Wednesday’ after midnight when they came down. 

Bruno then immediately went straight back downstairs as soon as he and Sam had got back upstairs again. So, Sam left Bruno with David when Bruno didn’t seem to want to head back upstairs. But pretty soon after that, the bulldog's face was back upstairs at the bedroom door.

Sam would have hated this, as he hates his sleep being disturbed. Sometimes he gets cross if I take too long to say, “Good night, sweet dreams,” when he has already fallen asleep.

Sam and I are normally asleep within minutes of turning out the light. We never understand when friends say they have trouble sleeping.

Bruno makes an appearance.

7.45am. 15% off gift card at Coles and Sam is straight out that door. “You hardly ever get 15% off,” he says. “You could buy a laptop with those gift cards, with 15% off.” Sam loves nothing more in life than a bargain.

I soaked my still infected finger in salt water, as I drank my morning coffee and read the news. 

Are the protests at George Pell’s funeral tomorrow legal, the Supreme Court will decide? Protests should always be legal, they are a genuine part of the democratic process. The only people who try to make protests illegal are conservative politicians.

Here’s a fact for everyone to mull over, George Pell was investigated for the abuse of a 12 year old boy many years before the cases that got him jailed, but the investigation was stopped due to a lack of evidence. A lack of evidence is not being found innocent of the charges.

8.10am Charlie is up.

8.35am. I take Bruno for a walk out the front after his breakfast. It is a lovely morning, the sun is warm and as gentle as honey being poured over ones skin. He likes to go for a walk in the street after his breakfast.

8.45am. We’re back. Charlie leaves as we come back. I say, “See you, Charlie.” No response. His headphones must have been in. That boy?

8.50am. I make porridge with fresh peaches and honey and more coffee.

I watch YouTube while I wait for Boris to give her okay to go ahead. I am soaking my finger seriously to finally to suck this infection out. I have now had it for too long and I need to get rid of it. So, it is either warm salty water soak, or go to the doctor to get antibiotics.

10am. I hear David’s croaking voice. He’ll be at my door no doubt in no time saying “Look at me, Look at me,” as is his want to do in the morning.

And it seems like only moments later, “Darling, darling, I’m awake, I am awake. Good morning,” he says sounding very much like Kathleen Turner.

He tells me he is leaving in an hour. 

“You have your shit cut out getting yourself ready in an hour.”

“You have a very serious work voice, he says. Almost imperceptible.”

“Do I?” I say.

“But clearly it is perceptible, darling only by me, and by me alone,” he says.

“Really,” I say.

Except, I am on my personal laptop, which is on my desk in front of my work station and large screen, which she doesn’t seem to notice, I’m writing my journal… in real time, as it becomes. I chuckle to myself.

He makes his double, double shot coffee. That’s four shots of coffee in his coffee cup. I can hear the bean container running out of beans as his coffee prepares. He doesn’t notice, and I don’t say anything. He heads back upstairs, laughing as he passes my door.

“Just think, in an hour,” David says. “You’ll be able to kick the Uber and say get out.”

“How will you have your shit together in an hour?”

I watch Taylor Ray on YouTube continue with his grandma’s Monte Carlo SS.

10.10am. I go fill up the coffee beans in the coffee machine.

10.40am. I have everything sent off to Boris for her perusal. Our department moto is ‘two sets of eyes’ on all work.

I can hear La Gioncallis scratching around in the bed room above me, for which he seems to have a never ending penchant.

11am. David’s back at my office door, with his dirty green suitcase and hand luggage, the two shades of green visually discordant. 

“My Uber is 1 minute away.” He runs through the list of food stuffs he is leaving me.

“Okay good bye,” I say.

“Get out,” he says. He makes that kicking someone out with a kick of his leg motion.

“Yes, get out,” I say.

His driver looks like a pensioner who has returned to work. I grimace at the look of him, and David smiles over the back of him as he struggles with David’s giant, putrid green suitcase.

His Uber departs.

Everything was authorised by 11.20am. Yay. Good one, guys!

I was on track to finish the day around midday, 12.30pm. Everything was going swimmingly, for me to laze about for the afternoon. But then Houston, we have a problem! There was I had a problem with my work software and I couldn’t complete everything. 

Boris said she didn’t know what had happened.

So, I call my software provider and they say there is a glitch. They will send a script to fix it. 

“Have you got the latest update?” she asks.

“Yes, IT have it scheduled to implement on Friday.”

“The same fix is in that update,” says the nice helpdesk woman. “But I’ll send you the script so you don’t have to run the complete update now.”

“Okay,” I say.

“You will receive it in 10 minutes.”

So, I call my dedicated IT guy, the very cute, big, beefy butt, Osmosis Smith to ask him if he is available to run the script. He answers back “Sure.” (Oh, how I’d like to see that boy just in his undies)

I waited and I waited and I waited. And then I waited some more. But nothing. An hour later I called back, and I get queued for a call back, again.

I then waited and I waited and I waited some more.

I messaged Osmosis Smith and asked him about running the update now. He said he could if we both gave him the go ahead. Boris was cc’d into my email and she responded quickly with “It’s okay with me.”

Then finally the script arrived with an apology 2 hours after the nice helpdesk woman said she would send it within 10 minutes, so I sent that to Osmosis Smith – I should just call him the cute boy with the big arse. He messaged me back that the script looked way more complicated than the update and that he’d rather do the update, and both Boris and I shot back requests to run the update.

And my free afternoon turned into work that took until nearly 4pm to to fixed. And I hate that.

I collected Peter Hujar images as I waited for things to happen.

I didn’t end up signing out of work until 5.30pm. Sam and Bruno went for a walk without me.

5pm. My sister called to give me the opportunity to wish her happy birthday as she is leaving for Canada tomorrow to go skiing.

We ate potato noodles with stir fried veg for dinner.

We watched 9 news, The Project and 7.30.

I started soaking my infected finger again.

We watched Hard Quiz, but it was a repeat. Sam went to have a shower, I put on Without Love, Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy.

10.10pm. We went to bed.

I managed to squeeze some puss out of my finger, splot! And that is good as it still doesn’t look like it is improving in any significant way.

I listen to Patti sing Way Up There, from 2003, what can I say, she was good.

Lights out 11.05pm.