4am. I wake up and I can't get back to sleep.
I get up, because I can't just lie in bed.
Oh, what's the fucken point? I think, as I think about what to do.
You have things that you love, which is the point of life, and they die, that's the reality of life.
My beautiful boy.
Some 10 hours after my last post, where my two bulldogs were keeping me company as I worked like it was just going to be another normal day, my perfectly healthy bulldog, Brun, became sick, unexpectedly.
At 1am we took him to the dog hospital.
1.10am. The vet asked us to give permission to do CPR. Brun's heart had stopped.
1.20am. They stopped CPR.
1.30am. We were saying good bye to him.
Our lovely, smart, sweet, chilled, beautiful boy was 7 years old.
He knew how to communicate with us, he had no trouble telling us what he wanted, we used to say he understood English. He was the only one of the bulldogs who knew how to push doors open to get places.
Presently, we ache. It doesn't feel real.
Everything feels just a bit pointless right at the moment.
Sam went to Brisbane for a meeting, and a catch up meal with his colleagues.
I worked at home all day, nothing much to tell. You know, just a day.
I ate all the mandarins, Sam will be pleased. He calls me the mandarin fiend.
Above is how the guys kept me company. All day. That's right next to my home office desk. Good thing I like the snoring, it keeps me company.
Charlie was home too, but who the hell knows what Charlie does all day. Other than eat instant noodles and play with his doodle, no doubt. He's twenty two.
2.30pm. I reckon I could just about sign out of work and no one would even notice. I'll see.
Fuck everything is annoying. Why is everything annoying? Just by the way this day has started, I can tell it is going to be one of those days. I've written a couple of emails telling people what I think, and then I have deleted them. That gets it out of my system.
And after watching 4Corners piece on AI, I’m not sure any of this is even worth it. I reckon the smart people will be chucking everything in and doing things that please them in the time we have left as a species.
Dr Richard Scolyer dies aged 59. I felt genuinely sad by the news.
Go read about him, he was a good guy.
What do I think about AI?
The governments are passing on safety concerns, leaving it up to Big Tech to self regulate.
We're all going to die.
It rained. It was sunny. It rained again. It was wet. We spent the morning on couches with blankets. And when I was encouraged (by the outlook for the day) to build a fire mid morning, Sam reminded me it was a gym day, so I went to the gym instead. It rained on my walk there, it rained on my walk home. Sam was ordering charcoal chicken when I got back, to be delivered because we couldn't go walking in the rain to find lunch, now could we? Then not long after I was home the rain stopped, but the cold continued, so I took advantage of the clear skies and went out and cut up kindling, and the funny thing about cutting up kindling, is that by the time you are finished with all that physical work, you are warmed up and you are no longer cold. The sun was shining by the time the Panda delivered our lunch, and Sam said if we'd only waited, still, that wasn't the case. So, then when we'd finished eating, we walked to the supermarket to get groceries for dinner, and dog food, and we were something like half way there and the rain started to fall again, of course it did. We'd only just made it to the shop and were under shelter again when the rain really started to pour down, and Brun, Otto and I were standing there under the shop veranda watching it pour down. Yay, I thought, as Sam shopped. I don't hate the rain, I have to say. A woman with a black poodle, and a husband, told me how her neighbours had bulldogs which they bred, which they didn't look after particularly well. "A contrast to yours," she said. I wondered if I should tell her I beat them. Ha ha, that's just my sense of humour. See her face. There were lots of people out and about shopping, and eating in cafes, and drinking coffee under shelter on the footpath, and walking their dogs, and walking under umbrellas. Note to people walking with umbrellas, when you are back under shop verandas put your umbrella down. Pet hate. There was an attractive 30 something couple, seemingly, window shopping, competing with the rain, being out for a leisurely morning, and I hear him say to her, as they get to me, "Shall we just go back to my place?" and she says, "yes." A Saturday morning Tinder date, I wondered. I would have said yes to him too, she was cute also, I am sure all the straight boys would agree. But then the rain stopped just before Sam reappeared and we were able to head home again, no problem. And the rain started to fall again, when we got home, but it still can't be that cold as I still haven't built that fire. I'm on the big couch under the large pink blanket with one dog against my shoulder, head on my pillow, and one dog lying over my bent right leg using the fold of the back of my knee as the place he is resting his head, both snoring, with the leg lying dog twitching as well, must be dreaming, keeping me toasty and warm at the same time. I am typing this with my left hand, as I need my right hand to hold on to my laptop as I type one handed. Still, when I fart, neither of them care, not one bit. I still have the kindling, and I might just build that fire yet. We're going to have dips and flat bread for dinner.
