Back to work today. Long weekends always end too fast. Ironic really. They promise so much, but in the end they disappoint because they end. Over. Stupid really but you just want them to go on forever. Our whole lives should be a long weekend.
So, back to work. Boris called early to ask how I was? How was my weekend? I asked her how her weekend was. She said good. I said good. My naturally suspicious disposition – read smart, ha, ha, ha – wondered what the agenda was, but in the end there didn't seem to be one. I guess she was just being nice. People are just weird.
It was just a day. Just another Tuesday, that felt like a Monday. But then, Wednesday will feel like Tuesday. And then it will be the weekend sooner than we anticipate. I guess that makes up for the disappointment.
I finished at 4pm. Sam had a zoom meeting. I had a shower late in the afternoon. (You just have to love working from home) I stood in the bedroom in my dressing gown and as I stared to peel it off I suddenly wondered if I was going to be one of those guys in the back ground that go viral, can you imagine anything worse?
"They can't see me, can they?" I asked nervously.
Sam laughed. "No. Do you want to be an internet star?"
"No."
Sam laughed some more. "They can't see you."
It is still off-putting. It still didn't feel completely right getting dressed with all those faces looking at me.
I took Bruno for a walk, while Sam zoomed. (Okay, I am using Zoom meeting in its most generic sense) The sun shone. I listened to Renee Geyer. Bruno sniffed everything he could. And pissed on just as much. He had a couple of good craps; Sam is always interested in his bowel movements, not exactly sure why. Maybe, his mother did it to him?
I listened to Renee Geyer all day. She said she was going to do a blues album to finish her recording career, but we didn't get it. That was disappointing. You can take any track she has recorded from any era and it doesn't sound dated. She was simply one of the greats.
I find it therapeutic to walk Bruno with my headphones in. Present, but removed. In the day, but not exactly. People smile at Bruno and I smile back. But I don't feel any compunction to comment, I have my protective shields up. My cone of silence, sort of. No conversation required.
The day sparkled. We saw a couple of the local crazies, along the way. The old Chinese man who always greets me so warmly and who always enthuses over Buddy and Bruno and more recently just Bruno, from who I can never understand a single word. Eventually, he always just walks away, like he switches off. Maybe I am mean calling him crazy, he genuinely seems nice, well, as far as my Chinese will allow me to make a judgement. There is the chick who’s curly hair changes colour regularly, who marches along the footpath like she has somewhere important to go, smoking and talking to herself continually. And there is the praying mantis, a not unattractive young guy who has a stash of belongings on the foot path around which he dances a strange kind of high step, slow motion ballet, as though he is the only person who exists in the world. We were home in an hour.
David called as Bruno and I were half way around our walk. He’s been in Melbourne attending to his sycophants. He wanted to drop in in half an hour, for a cuppa, was I home? And was I up for a visitor?
He couldn’t stay with us as we have another house guest at the moment, and he was none too pleased about it.
“No, I’m not home, I’m walking the dog?”
“Oh, ug,” says David. He hates it when he calls and I am walking the dog, as he has to complete with Bruno for attention.
“And I won’t be home in half an hour, I’ll be a bit longer than that? But I am up for a visit.”
“I see,” he says. “Okay then, I’ll go find a bar.”
He went and found a bar and drank margueritas (4.30 in the afternoon) and arrived very smiley. “Where is this person who has my room, we need to have a word.”
“You leave him alone, he’s not up for your shenanigans.”
“I’m just going to suggest he find somewhere else to stay in future.”
“My point exactly,” I say.
“You know this is the only place where I feel comfortable.”
We ate noodles. David turned them down. He took up a couple of hours in our room on a zoom meeting, to catch one of his more recent happy clapper meetings that was threatening to descend into chaos only weeks out from the groups weekend… read from when their hard earned cash plumped up David’s bank account.
David eventually reappeared and scoffed the leftover noodles almost in a single inhale, then forced us to watch Married at First Sight because, “the drama is soooo good I just can’t miss it.”
“I thought you’d just had enough drama with your disciples?”
“Oh, yes.” Roll of the eyes.
“Did you sort them out?”
I could see David was winding himself up to a full explanation of how Mary-Beth felt that Jethro had made her feel unsafe when he messaged her and…
“Seriously, I don’t care,” I say. “I don’t know what I was thinking even asking.”
And then MAFS came on.
David left at 11pm. We parted with our customary Devil Wears Prada Quotes.
“I said to myself, go ahead. Take a chance. Hire the smart, fat girl. I had hope.”
“But… you Ended Up Disappointing Me More Than Any Of The Other Silly Girls.”
Kiss kiss, at the gate.
“That’s all.”
And he jumped in his Uber and was gone.
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