Thursday

4.45am. I wake from a dream and go and have a piss. 

I dreamed, we’re on a laptop and we are recoding peoples moves, or turns, or movements, and it is being recorded on the edge of the case of the laptop in lines like spider’s webs, with squares, or crosses intertwined, recording the actual moves, or turns, or movements, the population is making, which is taking up every centimetre of the case of my laptop as there is so much to record.

Afterwards, I lie in bed, my mind starts to write the masculinity poem that I wrote and which was crap.

The cheek’s begun, love your mum

Hero or teacher, love your dad

Rip into life, get into strife

Grow your hair, what will I wear

Devil may care, have an affair

Children every week, that’s what you seek

They grow so fast, when did you see them last

I’m trying to keep it all in my head, but I know that doesn’t work. Not a chance, once I stop thinking about it, it will be gone.

So, I’m awake, anyway, so I get up and start to get dressed, when I hear Bruno’s paws on the floorboards in the dark next to me.

5.05am. So, Bruno and I head downstairs. Bruno goes straight outside for a wee. So do I, well, not outside, you understand.

It is dark and cold.

I write my masculinity poem. It’s crap, but it is kind of fleshed out. I wish I was a better poet, but what money is in poetry, I have to ask? So, why bother?

I guess I just wish I was better.

6.05am. I head over to the bakery to get bread. As I glance across to the shop from the end of [my street], I see that it is still closed. I wait in the dark on the street, which is extra dark because that street light is still out. A sexy boy walks passed in shorts with great legs. After he has passed, I see the bakery door open. Another sexy boy in shorts with great legs come walking up the Street as I walk down. What is it with sexy young men in shorts, I think, at 6am. 

I say too much to the baker guy in my attempt at small talk. 

“How are things with you he asks?” As he gets the machine out.”

“Things are good with me,” I say. I tentatively offer him $50. Tentatively, as it is early and he might not have change.

“Ah, cash,” he says. He glances in the till. “Yes, cash is good.”

“Things are good with me,” I say. “My weekend starts, but then my weekend always starts today.” I wince at my self-aggrandisement, or what may be seen as that.

He hands me back the change. He gives me $45 change, charging me $5 for the loaf, where his wife charges me $6 if I go later. This may not sound like much, but 5 loaves and I get a free one. He looks at me quizzically. 

“I only work 3 days.”

“Oh yes, good for you,” he says.

“I have worked hard enough, in my life,” I say. I wonder if he spotted the slight disingenuous tone in my voice hiding there amongst the syllables and consonants. Worked hard, I even question myself under my breath. Seriously, you have never worked that hard, you’ve never had to.

“Oh yes, good,” he says. “What do you do?”

“Oh,” I wasn’t expecting to answer that question, although where did I think this conversation was going to go? “I do finance work for a large law firm.” I instantly regretted saying large, that made it sound far more important than I meant for it to sound, fiancé work for a law firm, that is enough aggrandisement for what I do, without adding another layer.

“Oh yes,” he said. What could he say after that. “You have a good day.”

“You too,” I say. I step out into the dark and the cold and wonder about the possibility of having a great day.

I’m thinking perhaps the guys in the shorts with the good legs are going to the 24 hour gym before work. Such go-getters I always think about those guys who hit the gym before work.

Back home, there is just enough time to drink coffee and contemplate life on my own. Feel the charge of one’s batteries charging from the undisturbed atmosphere surrounding me. The peace. The quiet. The hum of the world’s vibrations. Lovely.

7.10am. Sam is up.

7.30am. I make vegemite toast and coffee for breakfast.

8am. I make more coffee.

8.16am. I call cutiepants Josh and ask him about Beau coming to look into the issues I am having with the work they did on the roof. He says Beau has been off today and the last couple of days, but he’ll call and see how Beau is, otherwise he’d come himself. I think, I’d like to see him come himself.

I have a shower, the sun is beginning to shine.

9.11am. I venture out to fix my TattsLotto numbers on my TattsLotto card. When I went to do my lotto numbers yesterday, my numbers have been mysteriously wiped off my card. I tried to find an old lotto ticket but I couldn’t.

The TattsLotto shop is closed when I get there, but I googled it before I left, and they open at 9am. Then they are behind me, the nice couple who run the lotto shop, just getting there 1 minute after me.

I go and pay the bulldog registration. I am contemplating paying Buddy’s and telling them Bruno has died, as Buddy’s registration always said he was de-sexed, where Bruno’s doesn’t. That is $72 compared to $220. And it is just a tax on dogs, what does the council give us? Okay, they provide pooh bags in the parks, but I could buy a lot of pooh bags for $220.

I go to the Connie Benn Centre, but of course, they don’t take payments there any longer. Why would they? The Yarra Council doesn’t want to provide too many services to its residents, now does it. It is the story of the Yarra Council our rates keep going up and up and up, and the services keep reducing.

I feel so aggrieved, I take a whole roll of pooh bags from the park. I see a guy watching me. I see him head over as I leave to check the state of the pooh bags. I’d already checked, the second roll was full.

Beau calls he’ll be here tomorrow afternoon, but if it is raining, he’ll come next week. “I haven’t forgotten you,” he says. “Yours is the most dangerous roof I have ever worked on, and it’s too dangerous when it is wet, is that okay?”

“Yeah, sure it’s okay,” I say. “I don’t want you to fall off the roof.”

“Thanks,” says Beau. Was he touched that I didn’t want him to fall off the roof? Nah. I’m reading too much into it.

10.55am. I’m home again. Grrrr! Fuck the Yarra council I am still thinking

The sun is shining.

The sewn up doh pooh bag bag

I stuff the whole roll of pooh bags into the old recycle bag we use to store the pooh bags, but it has been split down one seam forever and they, pretty much, just fall out again. Grrrr, again! So, I think fuck it, or is that think it do it, and I get out my sewing box and sew up the pooh-bag bag once and for all. 

Yes, I have a sewing kit, ever since I moved out of home and the buttons kept falling off my shirts. There was no one to sew them back on, so I learned to do it myself. I can sew very roughly, enough to get by on simple tasks.

So, I walk to the Collingwood town hall, grumbling all the way. I’m listening to Tina Turner, What’s Love Got To Do With It.

I use the bathroom at the town hall to wash my sticky coffee scroll icing fingers. Shhhh, don’t say anything.

I pay Bruno’s registration and I tell them Buddy has died. 

If I paid Buddy’s rego as Bruno, you know when Bruno is 10 years old the records would show him as 17 years old. I guess that isn’t impossible. Oh, I should have done it.

11.03am. I’m back from the Collingwood town hall.

11.11am. I am fanning my sweaty body from all that walking. I always sweat when I walk, that’s why I like shorts, in fact, by the time summer is over I am addicted to shorts and putting on jeans feels really weird.

11.20am. I walk to The Salvos, why the fuck not. I wasn’t going to do the DVD thing every day off, but I’d got everything else done I had to do.

I’m in Chemistwarehouse getting a double pack of Nasonex.

I’m in Cash Converters getting Mash season 5 and season 8. They had a stack of Mash, but I had all of the rest that they had.

I’m in the Salvos getting Summersault (2004) DVD.

I walk up Smith Street not a care in the sunshine until I’d nearly got to Greeves Street when I realised, I had forgotten Bruno’s meat in Aldi and I had to walk back. Grr!

I’m getting the meat at Aldi.

I walk up Smith Street.

12.45pm. I’m home again.

We ate Char kuew Tiwi for lunch.

I uploaded Somersault DVD to my Plex. I uploaded some CDs I got the other day from St Marks Recycle, (Ha ha, oh yes) Kate Ceberano, Etta James, Ray Charles.

2.40pm. Bruno and I go for a walk. So, I had new music for Bruno and my walk.

It is finally a nice day.

Cute boy sitting at the pub, a bit David Eikeman – my step daughters sensationally handsome boyfriend who used to party with all of us, way back when. Then there was a cute boy in blue shorts walking down the footpath towards me, nice legs, I think. He may have just come from the gym?

Gertrude Street > Brunswick Street > Johnston Street > [my street].

3.25pm. And we’re home.

Sam had groceries delivered, apparently, from a grocery delivery company that is just about to close up business.

I felt kind of anxious as though there were things I should be doing when I had really organised all the things I have to do presently.

I’ve done everything I had on my list.

Why do I always feel guilty of something?

And then it was the big upload, Somersault and Mash season 5 & season 8. Unfortunately, Mash season 5 was a dud, only the 3rd DVD worked, so I am taking that back to Cash Converters tomorrow.

I went on eBay and bought Mash season 3 for $4.95, which is cheap. You have to be aware that you have to buy the complete season, because they also sell each season in 3 different volumes, so you don’t want to be buying just 33% of a season thinking you are buying the whole thing. I made a couple of offers on season 2 and vol 3 of season one (as I bought season one Vol 1 & Vol 2 on sale really cheap, maybe even as cheap as 50c each, I think from either Cash Converters in Elizabeth Street, or Cash Converters in Coburg) but all my offers were turned down, so I logged out of eBay.

We had miso soup and 3 gourmet dim sims for dinner. We ate ice cream for dessert.

We watched I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here.

We watched Gogglebox.

We watched Hard Quiz – Pineapples, Daniel Ricardo, Geoffrey Chaucer, Blade Runner where the topics of choice.

10.30pm. Bruno wanted to head outside and then to bed.

10.45pm. We went to bed.

I looked at my poetry and listened to Ray Charles.

11.11pm. Lights out.