Lying On The Couch

Day off, first of two. Normal weeks. Lovely. They are mine to do with as I like, as Sam works.

I lay on the couch for most of the day, watching YouTube. (Wasting my life) Bruno and I lay on the couch together. We just seem to fit together natually, he and I, except when he lies his face across mine, or until, of course, he pushes just enough for me to be hanging off the edge of couch enough for me to end up with pain in my shoulder.

I went and sniffed around a couple of opshops, my favourite thing, I said to myself I wouldn't, there must be more to life than that, but I did. Fuck it. I bought a Tropfest short film DVD for $1, I thought that was good value for 16 films. I love short films.

Ah, what else is there to do in life? I ask you? Nyr? What's better than lying on the couch? Activate your senses. Lush life. I watched some of the films.

I went for a walk with Bruno for an hour, early, got it over and done with. I thought a walk for an hour every day was good, but my spoil sport doctor said, 

"Well, not so good if you lie on the couch for the rest of the day."

Apparently, active all day, is preferable. Grrr!

Oh, well, what can you do?

No word from Josh Gale, my old friend who I have spoken to for 10 years, who I email 12 August on Facebook. 

Shame.

After I got over my reticence about messaging him, and messaged him, I was quite looking forward to a reply.

I wish I could find his email address, I've search, but I can't find it. I know I have it somewhere, as I am quite a hoarder with those things. I have had 3 laptops in that time - that seems like a lot - and some how his email wasn't copied across. I'm not sure why?

Hump Day Wednesday

It was a relatively warm morning, nice it was, like winter is finishing, and then the rain started to fall. Grrr. It's been nice lately, warming up, even if all my friends in northern NSW laugh when I say that.

Sam had his second play date with his work colleagues, in the form of team building exercises. 

"Stupid fucking thing... why do I have to... more hair-brained HR bullshit (Do you think he has listened to me too much?)," he mumbled as he left for the office. He had to come back for an umbrella as the rain started to fall heavily. No, not happy about that.

Me, who has no work to do this morning, is sitting in front of my computer none the less. I have my two work computer screens and then my laptop in front of them. I sit here all day and do stuff on my laptop. But, I am sitting at my work computer none the less, ready for action, which is slow in coming.

Boris calls me about something, some HR fuck up. "Yeah, sure, I can fix it."

"Oh, good," she says.

I wonder if she thought I was going to say no, as her response had an air of well-that-was-easy about it.

I chuckle, nervously, to myself. What do they think of me? I choose not to answer that question.

A friend messages me. He's put in an offer on a house in Brunswick and he has to raise the offer, as the first one wasn't accepted, and he asks me if I think he should do that? Seriously, what are you asking me for? My friends seem to value my opinion, which is completely baffling to me. I think of myself as a lazy-arsed writer wanna be who can't get his act together to get his own shit done, let alone advise anyone else.

Still, I tell him, if you think the market prices are increasing, there is something to be said for buying and getting off the house search merry-go-round, which is tedious, and to at least get in on the potential of rising house prices.

I'm going to have plenty to do later in the day, but presently, it is me and Bruno perusing the internet. Bruno is looking for nice doggy porn, of course, chuckle. I'm looking at YouTube.

I've had 5 coffees, two slices of toast with Vegemite, and a crust off a fresh wholemeal loaf with peanut butter.

With Sam away, I have to get my own lunch. Yesterday, he left me slow cooked pork leftovers, long beans and rice, I just had to heat it up. But, there is nothing for me today, so I went and bought bread early at the bakery so I can have tuna on toast. Sam just looks at me when I tell him I'll have tuna on toast for lunch, like I am some gastronomic looser, I think it offends all of his culinary instincts.

And the rain keeps falling.

Taking Bruno for his daily walk, these daisies were just perfection

 

Monday in the Office

I’m in the office early. First in, just how I like it. There is a certain thrill, as the office lights click on, knowing I am the only one there. It is just me and Billy Joel for a few hours, lovely.

David has had some sort of heart scare in Sydney on his way to Canada and is now heading back home to the Northern Rivers. His heart started beating really fast, as the curtain went up for Beauty & the Beast. (I hate musicals, I told him I had a turn too when I went to Beauty & the Beast) It’s not a chronic condition as such, but if left unchecked it can lead to heart damage, in the worst case scenario. It’s got some long name. He now has to have some procedure, instead of transversing the Rockies

I chat to Mark. We weave Billy Joel lines into our conversation throughout. It’s amazing how many we know. We can still read each other's minds even in different states. It is hardly surprising, he is my soul mate, and he always has been. Then he heads off to attend to his chickens, let them out, feed them. Ah, to have his life, in the hinterland between Lismore and Byron Bay.

I’ve still got all my work done by the time Boris comes in at 9am. She's not an early arriver.

Oh, Well, There You Go

Oh, poo is spelt poo. 

Pooh is to express dislike for something. 

You learn something every day.

I’ve always spelt it pooh, I think it is the Winnie the Pooh influence. My Auntie may reading Winnie the Pooh stories to me and making them so special.

I wondered why my spell checker, is that what it’s called, only bought up a poo 💩 emoji with poo.

Shopping & Sunshine

 Late morning, we head out to the car, to head to the shops, but Sam looks at me with one of his looks, “What are you doing?”

“Going to the… oh… um? Are we walking?”

“Ah ha,” says Sam.

And we walk to Victoria Street rather than drive.

I go to The Salvos, just to waste a few dollars on CDs or DVDs that I don’t need. Sam and Bruno walk on.

There was Dani Im sings the Carpenters CD amongst others, but I decided against getting anything. Nyr! I walk out. I head off down Victoria Street quickly as Sam won’t be able to start the shopping until I get there and take Bruno’s lead.

11.57am. I’m at Minh Phat supermarket. Sam heads into The Hive. Bruno and I sit outside Minh Phat and watch the world go by.

It is overcast, but too hot to be walking in a thermal top, stupid me, I’m feeling hot. I should have put a t-shirt on after my shower and before I left home. Soon it will be time to be packing my thermal tops away agin in the cupboard for another year.

12.02pm. Sam reappears. He dumps full shopping bags at my feet, and heads off with empty shopping bags.

He goes to Minh Phat.

12.03pm. A jogger in black and yellow with a tasty arse jogs past. I’m sure Bruno’s head follows the jogger just like my head does. (Perhaps we’re both contemplating sniffing… um… 😬)

12.06pm. Sam reappears, the empty shopping bags now filled up. 

We walk down Victoria Street to get something for lunch. The sun has now come out.

The usual Victoria Street losers are about on the way. The most ‘toothless’ of them become ecstatic about Bruno, often exclaiming his beauty in loud voices. So different to me who likes to stay a little circumspect.

“Oooooooo, idn’t e's bwuteeefall. Ahhhhhhh.”

Too mean? (Sadly, it’s pretty accurate)

I don’t mind the loser/druggies, live and let live, but it always leaves me wondering, surely, we could be doing better as a society? Surely we could?

12.15pm. We’re getting Nasi Lemak at 188 Victoria Street.

There is only five Nasi Lemak and we need six with Charlie, so Sam heads off to get a pork roll. Bruno and I wait at the Nasi Lemak shop with all the shopping bags at our feet.

The sun comes out brightly and is hot.

The cigarettes in the hands of the people walking past stink in the heat. Not so many smokers now a days, but there are in Victoria Street.

The Nasi Lemak shop keeper comes out and gazes at Bruno. She tells me he is a nice dog.

12.28pm. Sam reappears, lunch having been procured.

We walk straight back up Victoria Street. It has turned into a lovely day.

As we cross Hoddle Street, there is a commotion in the first car at the lights. I’m vague, the sun has lulled me into a semi-comatose state. There is waving, but I don’t recognise the car. Then I see a friend of mine in the passenger seat, who I haven’t seen for ages. I can’t see who is driving because of the sun reflected on the windscreen. I wave as it dawns on me who it is. But that intersection is massive, one of the big ones, and if you don’t keep walking you won’t make it right across, so I keep walking. It is not until I get to the other side that I wonder if that appeared rude. I could have run to the window and said hello, but I didn’t. In my defence, I had shopping bags over my shoulders, and a bulldog on a lead, and it is very hard to move anywhere quickly with a bulldog. Still, I would have liked to say hello to them, even if it didn’t look like it.

1pm. Home.

Pretty much did very little for the rest of the day. Ah Saturday, such a lovely day to waste.

Good Luck to You, Leo Grande

I put on, Good Luck to You, Leo Grande. Emma Thompson was great. I sometimes forget what a great actress she is. I don't know what the guy's name is, he was cute though. (I'll look it up) He had the sexiest voice.

I thought it was a going to be a light weight comedy to end the week. It wasn't a light weight comedy. There was a real exploration of self. And sex. And the baggage that goes with all of that. It was good. I liked it. I like stories that are real. I like real people interacting in movies. I'd recommend it.

And the Alabama Shakes, a new band to discover.

Rush

Troye Silvan's Rush. I'm surprised that I think it is such a great song. Yeah sure, I do. 

And then there is the film clip. Wow. That was my life in the 1990s. 

I miss those days. No, really I do, when I see them, when I think about them. They were fun. They were living, those days. They were real. Such friendship, such camaraderie, such fun, like we were a part of something, and we were a part of something, which was great. The big dance party scene. It was freedom. It was expression. It was a whole weekend of togetherness.

The conspiratorial nature of what we were doing. The clandestine feeling of being 'the other.' Slipping away out of sight to indulge in Bacchanalian pleasure which was semi secret, beyond the boundaries of normal people in normal society. The hours spent dancing. The heaving crowd. The sexy bodies. The contorted faces all trying to smile, probably all thinking they were smiling.

Having more fun than we deserved.

We took pills before we went out, which was usually some time after 11pm. We'd take more pills somewhere around 1am, then 3amish, 6 am, then like 10am, or to head home under the influence of. In the beginning it was half pills, in the end it was whole pills, but not normally more than a whole at once.

Sunday would vanish as though it no longer existed in the week.

And we'd be thrown against the ground in a hard dump Monday morning to head to work. 

Or, in my case, during most of that period, I used to work Saturday night until 11pm'ish and often I wouldn't work again until Tuesday afternoon, but not always. It made not difference to the feeling of smashing into the working week with a thud and a creek when you had to scrub up and go.

To all of our credit, we all kept our day jobs going during that period.

That film clip brings it all back.

Nothing To Do

Mid morning, I’m back at my desk and I have had no work. Really, nothing. I don't know if it's because I have become more efficient, or there is just less work. I guess it is the latter. Anyway, I hope they aren't counting key strokes on my computer, or whatever it is that they do, because they wouldn't be getting many from me, even though I am sitting at my home work desk all day. It makes me write, sitting there, I work on stuff like re-formatting my blog, but they wouldn't know that I am sitting there. Would it make any difference? Shrug.

We ate luxo instant noodles with fish pieces for lunch.

I have very little to do all day, so I played around with photos of street art turning them into art, which I like doing.

I call this one, Alien Regret

Rolling Stones New Album

It is very exciting, there has been a development on the Rolling Stones new album today, finally. I have checked every day for I don't know how long. It looks like it is going to be called Hackney Diamonds. There is going to be an announcement in September, with a release date in October. Very excited.

Finally. We have been waiting 7 years for this. I can't wait. Yay!

I personally don't think The Stones have ever recorded a dud album, pretty good for 60 years, hey?

Aussie, Aussie, Aussie

Oh yes, I realise I should be more in the… um… er… what should I be more in? You know, like everyone else, apparently, is in the… um… er… whatever it is that everyone else is in. 

Oh yes, "rah, rah, rah! Squeal."

What is it the terrible conservatives, who screw over the poor and give to the rich, say, oh dear… what is it… team… er, um… Team Australia, which of course we’d all have no trouble with except it came to mean wealthy, white heterosexual, most likely male, Australians under that first class fuckwit of a Prime Minister Abbott. But be that, the onion eating, honours giving to Princes, idiot of a Prime Minister Abbott, as it may, I don’t think you can help but be on… er… Team… um… Australia if you are Australian, as you just are. It’s in your DNA, you can’t help it.

(Anyone who says otherwise, hasn’t picked up a Spock like hearing ability for an Australian accent in a crowd having spent an extended period overseas, or burst into tears hearing a tram sound “ding, ding, ding,” having just returned to the city of their birth)

So, clearly, I don’t wish the Matilda's anything untoward, 

“Go, Girls, go,” but it still doesn’t mean I have to listen to the interminable squeals of breathless commentators ad nauseam.

I am just not interested in soccer? Should I pretend?

Anyway, there they have now lost to Sweden and really the very best I can say about that is that I can now stop reaching for the mute button every damn time some semi-orgasmic presenter comes on the teli for the umpteenth time and yaps on about them endlessly.

Oh Well, There You Go

Christian

OMG! If I never hear The Matildas mentioned again, I won’t be disappointed.

Mark

Well yes, I felt the same way, but the game was sensational, don’t think I’ve ever been so invested in a game of football in my life, it completely ravaged me, I was a wreck...

Did you watch it?

Christian

I’d rather stick pins in my eyes

Mark

Haha, well you missed a very electric moment, like nothing quite like I’ve seen before, and your just getting the buzz from that, if you'd watched it you would understand why everyone is so mental about it....

Christian

I'm not even interested in perving on them in their shorts… ☹️

Mark

Haha....criso, your incorrigible...

They were amazing athletes...

And, seriously, it was amazing to watch, I wasn't really fussed but Luke wanted to watch it, and I got completely hooked...

This made me chuckle as I caught sight of it out of the corner of my eye as I walked home from the city. I know, pretty stupid, but, you know, anything that gives me a chuckle can't be all bad, that's my life motto

Wednesday

I thought it was warmer this morning, despite the weather person on the teev last night saying it would be colder. 

It felt okay first thing. The only thing upsetting about the day was the bread situation, I had to perform surgery on the last of the bread to get anything that resembled two slices.

But the morning seemed to get colder as it went along, maybe the clouds cleared, or something.

I'd put the stinky wood on the fire last night, the wood we got from Charlie and Lenny's next door neighbour after they cut down some trees and put it on the front nature strip, last year'ish ago. I remember the neighbour's hot son coming out in his singlet and track pants and offering to help. Sam and I wanted to suggest to him exactly what kind of help he could offer, but instead said we were fine to load the cut wood into the car.

Anyway, that wood burns kind of longer and burned all night, I think, keeping the lounge dining room warm. The trade off is that is smells.

But when I got out in the day, feeding the fish in the pond and watering my indoor plants, it seems pretty cold again this morning.

Anyway, it is Friday for me, so let's get on with it. The sooner I get started, the sooner my weekend will begin. 😬 

As Bruno digs his way to comfort on the couch in my study next to my desk. "Would you stop that."

How Cold Is it?

OMG! It is freezing this morning. Brrrrr! I don't know what the temperature was, but the air had an icy edge to it. It is Arctic.

I am tempted to light a fire in the lounge room, but, of course, it is a work day, so I shut myself away in my study instead. 

Bruno slept on the couch next to me, once he'd stopped scratching around, as bulldogs do in their beds. The leather couch has a Thai triangle floor cushion covering it for protection from bulldog claws because they are such bed wreckers.

David always laughs when I tell him how cold it it. 

"That makes me so happy," he says. 

It somehow justifies his move to northern NSW. David is always about David, of course.

So, I messaged him and he responded true to form.

He's been sick ever since he came back from Bali and Europe on his most recent trip. Nobody seems to know what's wrong with him, so the barrage of medical tests continue.

Not that I am complaining about the cold, as it will be summer before we know it, and if the commentators are right, and not just speaking for maximum ratings, it is going to be hot, the summer from hell and I, for one, will be thinking about winter fondly.

Anyway, I got to work and forgot about the cold and the cold morning turned into a sunny day.

I listened to Keith Richards solo albums all day as I worked. Cross Eyed Heart followed by Main Offender.

I Made Lasagne

Sam always cooks, cooks all my meals, even prepares my lunch for when I go to the office, I don't take that lightly, I know how lucky that is.

But, occasionally I cook, Risotto, Bolognese, cakes, I am a pastry chef at heart, and my famous lasagne. Ha ha, only famous in my own head, but there it is.

Lasagne a la Christian. It is pretty standard lasagne, there's no peas, there's no corn, there's no eggs, there's no ham, I am a traditionalist when it comes to lasagne.

Sunday

We walked into town, it’s the only way to get to town. There seemed to be an inordinate number of tourists in Fitzroy town today.

Bruno and I sat outside in Bourke Street while Sam had his hair cut. The silver street furniture was still covered in rain drops, like crystals on the stainless steel, from the early morning rain, so Bruno and I sat on the paving in the doorway to the centre. The paving blocks were cold on our arses, of course, Bruno’s is covered in fur, as mine may well be, but nobody can see that, insulating him from the dense concrete cold. Bruno sat right up against my left thigh keeping me warm, as he kept watch for, I don’t know what, those passing by? Any existential threat. 😬 My haircut followed Sam's. Then Bruno lined up with a hairdressing cape on. Ha Ha. Bruno didn't get his hair cut, I just like the image of him in the chair with a haircut cape on.

It’s been wet, and while it still wasn’t what you'd call warm, the sun was warm when you are actually in it. Not that we were in it a lot.

There were plenty of people in the city.

There were gaggles of young guys walking past, in packs, speaking of furry arses. I didn’t know what that’s all about, as though there was some gamer function happening somewhere? Or free food? Or maybe some strip joint was doing a two for one offer? Or maybe, that is just Sunday? There was an awful lot of dyed hair amongst the lads. Brassy tips seemed to be popular, dark hair with blond tips, very Euro Boy Band.

Then it was lunch, somewhere that was Bruno friendly and in some sun, hopefully. We ate Nepalese Food which is a favourite of mine, out of the sun, sadly. We ate Lamb Chowmein and Buffalo Curry Dumplings. Bruno hoovered up the food we dropped, um, I dropped. Noodles mostly. Well, noodles, i didn't drop any dumplings, of course.

Obviously, there was football on somewhere, about which I really don't care so much, with people in footy jumpers walking past our lunch table with those gung-ho looks on their faces particular to footy fans, a cross between euphoria and brain damage.

I sniffed around JBHiFi for a while after lunch but could find nothing I liked, despite trying hard to find something on which to spend my money. I was interested in The Stones latest live album but at $65, I kind of hesitated and then put it back on the shelf.

Sam fielded people taking photos of Bruno outside in the street while they waited for me. Bruno couldn't care too much about people telling him he is cute.

But that's it, that's all there was pretty much, just haircuts for the new week really. And lunch.

We walked home.

Then it was a quiet Sunday afternoon indoors.

Work tomorrow, in the office. My one day in the office per fortnight. I guess I can manage that much. Grrrrr! Kill me now!

The Morning

I am editing my blog for most of the morning. It is taking forever, the reformatting and the date labels.

Latish in the morning, I take Bruno for a walk. (Oh, I just can’t sit on the couch all day. The sun is shining 

Bruno is slow up Gertrude Street, he always is. By the time we are heading down Brunswick Street Bruno is trotting along quite well

The dope on a rope pitbull is outside the commission flats, across the road. It is always out in the street, when we go for a walk. I think it must live in the commission flats. It is coloured like a hyena and it always barks. Bark, barks, barks, its usual I-want-to-kill-you bark when it spots Bruno. Bruno, appearing to be completely oblivious, decides to take a shit right at that moment and he turns his back on the barking dog and takes a dump. I can see the symbolism in that, even if Bruno can’t.

We meet the cutest Pug. The girl walking him seems to be apprehensive until I tell her Bruno is friendly, at which she releases the tension on the pug’s lead. He’s a lovely colour. The two flat faces press against each other sniffing. The girl walking the pug giggles.

We come face to face with a Frenchie walked by a young couple. The guy is cute and smiley, they both seem young. I think, that Frenchie sure does look like Pascal, Bruno’s nemesis, as the two dogs are nose to nose, just as the Frenchie gives a growl. 

I say, “That’s not Pascal, is it.” And just as the couple say, “Yes, it is.” I grab Bruno by the harness just as he appears to work out it is Pascal, and he really starts to growl.

They must be walking him for [names of Pascal’s owners] “Oh, they hate each other,” I say.

The young couple say, “Really?” Surprised to hear me say that.

“I don’t know why,” I say. “I think it is because Pascal used to bite Bruno as a puppy.” I know that is the reason.

They pull Pascal away. Their mouths are forming ‘O’s

We turn into Johnson Street

The English bull terrier was in the tattoo shop doorway. As he starts to spin around aggressively behind the double glass doors, Bruno steps up nonchalantly to the double doors and pisses on then. It looks so funny. This is how much I care about you.

We turn into Smith Street.

11.50am. We’re in St Marks Recycle I get a Bob Dylan CD, New Morning.

We head home.

We meet my nice lady neighbour from across the road at our gate.

“Do you go to the film festival?” she asks.

“Oh, yes, I did. I have,” I say. “But not for a while.”

“No, I haven’t for a while,” she says. “But I have just started going again. I’ve just seen a great French movie at iMax.”

“My friend who I used to go with, (David) who used to organise me to go, moved to the Northern Rivers a few years ago, and I haven’t gone since.”

“I’ve just been to the chiropractor, now,” she says. She laughs. “As I sat through a 3 hour Turkish movie yesterday and I think it fucked my back.”

“Oh, those Turks,” I say. “They will do it to you every time.” I immediately think of Racco that summer holiday, and those shorts that barely fitted him, almost failed to contain all of him, and how I’d never let him stick that monster he kept in them up my arse, much to his disappointment, and despite his cajoling. Ha ha, the things that go through your mind in a split second.

She laughs and crosses the road.

Bruno and I head inside to the couch.

I only get off the couch to make my famous (Ha, ha, well, if I don’t say it nobody else will) Bolognese sauce for dinner and the freezer.

Josh Gale

I have been thinking about my old friend Josh Gale lately. I don't know why he is coming into my head, but he is.

We didn't part on good terms the last time we saw each other, in fact, we parted on very bad terms.

In fact, he may even think that I betrayed him. Maybe?

In a nutshell, we'd made certain agreements for him staying with me on three occasions, none of which he kept. In fact, I felt pretty well used by him, taken advantage of. Then there was a forth time when he probably needed my help, with the previous disasters really fresh in my mind, I turned him away, determined not to be used by him again. 

That was 13 years ago. He now lives in Berlin.

We were like best friends, at one point. He got to know all my friends over a ten year period, and they all liked him.

I liked him too, he's smart and interesting. He really was one of my favourite people. And I was his.

So, anyway, I have no idea why he is coming into my head, but he has been for some weeks.

I didn't know how to contact him, but I tracked him down on Facebook. I can send him a message without being friends with him on Facebook.

I wrote a message, "So, where were we?"

I went to push send, and I hesitated. Why am I doing this, I thought?

And I haven't sent any message.

Should I?

Shouldn't I?

Maybe, there has been, as they say, too much water under the bridge? Maybe?

Now, I'm not sure if I should, or I shouldn't?

Oh, what to do?

Paying With Cash

With all the charges now added to payments made by EFT, I make sure I have enough cash in my wallet to pay for things with cash. I know that isn't very sexy, or very modern, but you are now paying fees with every payment you make. Is that what you really want to do?

I know that might sound pig headed, and quite possibly obsessive, but its not, it's easy, we've just got out of the habit.

Do you know, when I pay for lunch, or dinner, and I pull out the cash, so many eating places then go ahead and reduce the amount I have to pay. It is not by much, but it all adds up in the end.

It's not that hard to have cash in your wallet. Take 5 minutes at the ATM. Seriously, it isn't rocket science.

Banks really are now profiting from your payments, and greatly so. Is that what you want to do, make some rich men much richer? I ask you?

The Great Nancy Wilson

 

Working From Home

I messaged Boris first thing to tell her I am working from home.

They want me to go to the office every Monday. I go every second Monday.

I've decided that I just don't care. We worked from home for what, two years? Three years? We worked from home to keep their business' going, and we discovered a better way of working. I like working from home. There is no down side. And now I realise there is no up side for going into the office. It is a no brainer.

I'm just going to ignore the work in the office request. Fuck them.

What are they going to do?

Oh, then when I look up, Fish Face, HR manager from Sydney had emailed me. Oh, it is never good when the duplicitous twit contacts me. 

I wondered if she had found out about me working from home today. Guilt, anyone? 

Then I laughed to myself, Oh Fish Face won't find out about anything until a week after it happened, if at all, such is the efficiency of our, any, HR department.

Relax.

Then Sam comes down the stairs and when he gets to the study room door, he does an arse shaking, arm swinging, shimmy, complete with hummed musical accompaniment, and I forget all about work and HR and Fish Face completely.

Sam and I laugh after his dance is finished.

Then I kissed and cuddled Bruno, who is lying on the couch next to my desk in the study. And he rubbed his face against mine.

And I thought, I never want to go back to the office.

There's a Thing

The positive thinking shop in Brunswick Street has closed down. 

So much for Positive thinking?

Pass It To Me, Pas It To Me

Bruno and I were waiting in the Woolies doorway while Sam shops.

When I sniff, sniff, sniffed the air. Someone was smoking pot out there, the strongest I had ever smelt. I walked to the footpath on Smith Street out the front of Woolies and watched the three guys pass the joint between them with a sad face. I could feel my sad face as I gazed in hope. One of the guys gave me a passing glance. Oh, go on, I though.

Pass it to me. Pass it to me, I thought.

They didn’t pass it to me.

Back To Normal. Yay!

Finally, a normal week, Thursday and Friday off. 

Oh, it seems like it has been forever, this working full time for Boris. 

I'm exhausted. 

It seems like a life time working 5 days.

Today, would be Sunday, for the last 3 weeks, if you get what I mean. Work would be tomorrow. Glad it's not. Who can work like that? Oh, yes, I know, the majority of the people, of course, I just don't know how they do it. Well, of course I know how they do it, I did it once, but not for a long time, and now I forget. I just know this way. Mon to Wed, it is the only way to work.

Back to normal.

Lovely.

New Elephants For The Herd

I bought new elephants for the herd, the two dark coloured ones at the front. 

It's been a while. 

I never look for them, I always just stumble across them, usually in other countries.

I was in the op shop sniffing around and there they were. Of course, they spoke to me from the moment I saw them.

How could I resist.

I told the nice lady volunteer behind the counter they were going to a good herd. She laughed, she was enchanted.

"I'm very pleased they are going to a good herd, she said.

Pimples On My... Er... Lip

I've got a pimple on my bottom lip. I'm being really self controlled and letting the puss head develop so I can give it a clean squeeze and not have something that turns to a red mess.

It really fucken hurts, though. I forget how much pimples ache. It aches like a stabbing wound... um... er... not that I have ever had a stabbing wound.

It feels like a big thing hanging off my lip, like it is continually communicating its location to my brain.

"Here! Here! Here! Here! Here! Here! Here! Here! Here! Here! Here!"

like morse code...

I'm wondering how long I am going to have to wait before I can do the very satisfying fffshhhit, with my two thumbs, touching it gingerly with my fingertips as though that is going to prove anything, and Bruno flops down from the couch onto the floor, using the extension cord plug as a pillow for his chin. Dogs. Jesus! I hop up and remove the extension cord from under his chin, forgetting all about my pimple.

I've had some work this morning, but mostly I have still been reformatting my old blog posts. All of those old friends with whom I have almost lost contact, not exactly, but I am terrible at keeping up the communication, they have to at least meet me half way, which some do, but the ones who don't, they just kind of drift away. It is the down side of being good on your own, which I am.

You've got to luv working from home. And, you know, it's not that I have lost productivity working from home, as the conservative forces who want us all back in the office say, no, my job is still exactly the same as it was when I was pointlessly traipsing into the office every day. It's just that I get up at 6am, I make a coffee and I log into work straight away, I think, that is the big difference.

In My Archive

I have been busy re-formatting my old blog posts. I have been concentrating on my old posts, but eventually, I want to reformat everything. Oh, not so much the recent stuff, as I haven't changed the format lately.

I'm adding year tags, so I can go back and re-write stuff much more easily.

And I am fixing the layout of all the old stuff.

It's like a stroll down memory lane, really it is.

It's a good thing to do, while I am waiting for some work.

I don't write much when I am busy in my archive.