Sam called three, or four times. Trouble was, he face timed me, he never picked it, though. Thought I'd got away with it. Then he Facetimed me back again, and he was on to me. The accusations came thick and fast. It was late then, I was listening to music. I wasn't trying to hide it, or anything, not really. So, I told him I was going to bed. And I went to bed.
Last, I've heard.
Mr Perfect will be Mr Cranky.
I start early.
I seem to deal with work OCD cases all morning, who want their i's dotted, and their t's crossed, just for the sake of it.
I find myself trolling HR. To make the time pass.
Fuck it! I think late morning.
11:45am. I’m driving to Guidos
You seriously didn’t think, did you?
12:10pm. I’m home.
I finish all my work. The focus is great, harness whenever you can. Hone in, Consentrate. Just get it done. You have to get it done.
I have several chats with Max.
Rolling Stones Undercover.
2:15 pm. Signs out of work. What the hell, everything was done. I sent all my work to Max, so she has it all
I light a fire.
It fixed my sore knee. I knew it would. See, purely medicinal.
3pm. Throw up in the kitchen sink like a fucken amateur. That was a surprise.
3:15pm. smashed on the couch, with Otto.
3:30pm. This was a huge mistake. He giggles nervously to himself.
3:45pm. Goat’s Head Soup
Angie is a masterpiece
The killing of Georgie is a masterpiece.
That One Direction guy's song. Sign of the Times
Someone Saved My Life tonight
Life on Mars
Major Tom
Joni Mitchell Blue album.
Lucy Jordan.
Killer Queen
The late afternoon sun shines in the French Doors so beautifully, rich like honey.
I'm as comfy as a lamb.
Tenement Funster
My day in the office, even with my sore knee, like a corporate whore, like all the other corporate whores selling their souls to the highest bidder, I don't want to be one of those corporate whores*, but here I am.
I could pull the sore knee excuse, because my knee is still incredibly sore. 2 panadols, and 2 ibrophen seem to be doing the trick, but it is slow to get better. But, Boris is home in Lapland, and Max, the temp, is in the office first day on her own, so, I guess, I have to head in to support her. She seems nice. She came with a great resume, but somehow, I feel, there has been some, now what would I say, er, padding.
Not to worry, it isn't really my concern.
But, Sam goes overseas tonight and I plan to take the next few Monday office days off, one way, or another, to look after Otto home on his own for the first time ever really n his 3 years of life.
Oh, I mean work from home, not pull sickies, but as I keep saying to Sam I have in excess of 50 sick days accrued, so if it requires a sickie, I won't be backward in taking one.
* Have I ever told you about my life as a whore? When I first came out, when I was very new to everything? I was in The Prince of Wales on Sunday night, and there was this older guy - when I say older guy, he was probably 30 years old, 35 years old - and I sucked him off in the toilets, it was very exciting, first time I had ever done anything like that. He had a nice dick. Afterwards, he put $50 in my hand. I have no idea why he put $50 in my hand, but he did. So, that’s my life as a whore.
Max, the temp, whispers behind her hand to me, “Do you find nearly all HR women are bitches?”
So, you see, I like her already.
The boys too, I want to add, but I don’t, actually, say it.
It's Sunday, and after I have been editing my old blogs, adding, and changing images, all morning, I get out the proper Dyson vacuum, so I don't have to deal with the truely awful LG handheld vacuum, ready to do a big vacuum.
I vacuum the study first.
Then I get the large box down from the top of the study bookshelf in which we keep the hard floor vacuum head. Also in that box, for no apparent reason, are Brun's two park basketballs. I don't know how, but he would know instantly when I got that box down from the top of the bookshelf and he would be in the study and would have one, or both, of those basketballs out of that box and would be chasing it/them around the house amusing himself for the whole time I’d do the vacuuming.
Today, both those basketballs lay dormant in their box untouched. It was a sad sight.
When I vacuum, Buddy used to be the immovable object. I could vacuum right up to him, even nudge him with the vacuum head and he wouldn't move.
Brun would walk right up to the vacuum and stand in front of it, I'm not really sure if he wanted to play, or was saying, You Can't Go Here. Whichever way, I'd have to move him out of the way.
Otto is scared of the vacuum and he runs to the furthest point away from it, which is usually right up against the back door, waiting for me to open it so he can hide in Buddy's old kennel until the vacuum monster was put away again.
The sun shines outside.
Sunday is cleaning day, of course.
After that, I think we are going for haircuts and lunch.
My knee still hurts.
Sam goes overseas tomorrow.
It was 2 degrees this morning. Cold, cold, cold. In fact the coldest morning of the year.
Okay, I'm cold. I'm really fucken cold. It's cold. My feet are like ice all morning. It's cold. The sun comes out mid morning. It's still bloody cold. I don't warm up, not at all.
We have a cooked lunch, it doesn't help.
It's not until we take Otto for a walk early afternoon that I even feel the warmth of the sun.
1:50pm. we take Otto for a walk
The sun is shining, it’s nice to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin. It is the first time I have felt warm all day.
2pm. We cross Brunswick Street. There’s an Ed Sheeran look alike coming from the other direction. I swear he looked just like him. I wanted to take a photo
We go to the Carlton Gardens and walk around the park once, right around the perimeter.
2:30pm. We’re in chemist warehouse in Brunswick Street Sam stocks up on nonsense medicine for his cousin’s overseas which he will take them next week.
Suddenly, I felt weak and had to go and sit down. I think it’s my stupid low blood sugar thing, damn it’s annoying. I didn't eat much lunch, I wasn't that hungry, I just had to have something, no big deal really.
I get a protein drink on the way out that is so heavily sweetened with artificial sweetener that it’s kind of revolting. 100% sugar-free, but 100% Aspartame.
3pm. We’re home.
Susanto goes to the supermarket. He comes home with cheese cake and oranges. I have an orange, possibly my favourite fruit, while I make tea.
We drink tea and eat cheese cake.
I watch YouTube.
I fall asleep on the couch.
I wake up at dusk and light an open fire.
The misery news hour comes on.
Sam heads to the office early.
I light a fire immediately Sam has gone.
Just me and you today, I say to Otto.
Cough, cough, I hear.
Yes, you too, Milo.
I sit with my back to the fire. Otto slides in between my legs and lies down. Not really a sustainable position, but cute for now
I sit on the couch and re-write my old blog posts with Otto curled up on the couch next to me on one side, and Milo curled up on the couch on the other side. First time really that has ever happened. Brun could be a little bitch to Milo never letting him relax in the lounge room with us, and now Milo can. Otto is much more relaxed about him.
Funny really, as Brun was the most chilled out, laid back dog you'd ever meet, but not where Milo was concerned.
