I Woke Up Late

I woke up to some religious program at 4am. What truly bothered me was that I truly couldn’t remember going to bed to watch television. I actually couldn’t remember going to bed at all.

I woke up again at 8.55am, I hadn’t put the alarm on, so I called Beck to say I was going to be late. My head was spinning. Then I called back to say I might take the day as annual leave. I don’t really care either way, call me if that’s no good. Then I sat down on the floor and rested against the bedside table. I’m glad I had cleaned up the floor. Got my breath.

I’m just wasting the day, I so don’t want to go to work.

Now I’ve rolled a joint, so if Beck calls…shit, shit, she still could. 9am, she probably won’t be in yet herself. Cross your fingers…maybe I should wait a minute before I smoke the rest of it. I should get in the shower.

9.15 and I smoked the last of the joint. Here’s hoping. I know, if the phones rings I’ll do what I always do, not answer it.

Bad Christian.

Perhaps, I’ll type my 1997 journal; I do believe I’m up to August 1997. I’m just wasting my time, I know that. But I don’t want to go to work. No, I don’t. You can’t make me!

Beck made me go in. She called back to say we had a meeting at 10.30 and that I should come in.

Rats!

My head was spinning.

The joint. Oh, I haven’t got time to think about that now. It was the scraping of the ironing board and the coffee table, barely likely to show up on any test, my reality included. It was hardly anything, just a scraping. It was mostly tobacco.

Rats! Again!

I got to the meeting by 11am. Beck gave me sideways glances when I clicked my coffee-cup, twice. Espresso from the shop, sweetie. But it was happy families again by the time we hit our office. And then it was lunch.

Miss!

How are you this lovely fine day?

How as your weekend?

What did you do with it?

I spent the weekend laughing long and hard through many letters between Melbourne and Sydney.  My goodness, we were funny, Christian. What happened to us? Did we both stop living with such a comedic lens, or was it just me?

Anyhoo, I shall be gallivanting this afternoon as Ma and Pa have their Probus meeting here today.

I might even end up near Fitzroy, where I *may* need to partake of a nap if that is cool with you?

All just thoughts, nothing planned yet...

Anyway Miss, I hope you have a wonderful day.

xTom

My mum just said to me that I must go out, probably next weekend.

"It doesn't matter if you're tired for the next two days, it obviously does you a lot of good"

HAHAHAHAHAHA.

xTom

What on earth is she basing this on?

Christian

Oh the day?

I tried to stay home today, but Beck said I needed to come in. So, here I am.

How do I stop working? Well, just working here? I suppose I need to just quit, huh?

Christian

Basing it on that after I go out I am just so much chirpier.

I think she's trying to love me up!

I'm at your place.  Is Twif still staying?

xTom

That Gina's a trick.

I think you might be right with the "love-up"

Twif went home. I reckon I might have to put an emergency call into M Street!

Christian

Goodness she must have had a busy weekend with you, it must have been a whirl!

You're just not alright at the mo' are you?

*hug*

Tom

I think I'm all right at the moment....

sure, i don't want to work any more. And I want a new place to live where I can live on my own.

Sure I feel like I am just wasting my life. I just don't see the point to most of this. Why am I wasting my intellect and my time, by completing a menial little job that makes a bunch of other people rich, while destroying my soul by extracting small chunks every day.

Life's f*cked and then you die! And sure I hate my life, but who doesn't?

...but I think I'm all right.

She whirled with me last week and she'll whirl again with me this week... is that why I can't remember anything today?

The weekend was good... it's not often that I get to make Luke stagger.

Christian

mmmmm

Tom

enough to drive a man to drink i tells ya

Tom

Let pussy in.

Christian

How are your friend(s) going with the coffee-shop in Smith Street.

I could see myself doing that.

Christian

Can you find out if Twif can be met up with early tonight?

or at least,

is Guido back in Melbourne?

·               All you need to do is answer the question?

·               I don't really need you to do anything

Christian

Try some of the blackberry jam in the fridge... Mark, Luke and I picked the berries our very selves.

Christian

(Guido)

Are you back from swanning around? Is the kiosk open tonight? I sooooooooooooooooooo hope it is!

Christian

I worked back for ½ an hour, at the end, but decided after that that was all the blood they were getting. And Beck scampered out the door just as fast.

Guido called me, he was in business. He home delivered it, even. You gotta be happy with that. Don’t know what this dope binge is, but I’m going with it. D, Tom, Shane and I partook.

Everybody has gone now. Bad Christian, smashed on dope.

Oh, I just can’t become this person. This person ultimately is tragic. I can’t be this person. Back on the merry-go-around, which Christian do I want? I want the Christian who can work three days a week and write the rest. I want that Christian. Why oh why didn’t I pay closer attention at uni. If I had done something I loved, I may have really excelled at it and now, I could afford to do exactly that.

Once mum dies, I’m going to give that guy a go.

It’s so awful that this hinges on my mum dying.

I love my mum. I want her to live forever.

I wish my dad was still alive. I wish he could have given another nine years. He could have died when he was eighty. He could have died when I was fifty one.

You just have to understand that missing your parents for the rest of your life is just part of the deal. Hold your breath until you are blue in the face, stuff.

But I reckon I could have done with him around until I was fifty. I’d probably feel grown enough by then, to really stand on my own two feet. Nobody else loves you unconditionally.

But you know, mum doesn’t want to live any more, anyway. She doesn’t want to live without dad. Her life long mate. To death us do part. It’s ultimately sad in the end. Romantic, but very lonely for the remaining partner. But there she is, a product of her generation.

I watched X-factor with Tom and then he headed to the sauna.

SMS. 22.16. (Aby) What r u doing? I know I’ve had dope, I treated myself, yum, yum! But did I miss something? What day is it? Bong? – Christian

SMS. 23.03. Stop it! Put that Greek boy down! – Rachel

SMS. 23.05. Slurp! – Christian

I reckon we should stop the twif talk on work email. We should txt, or email me at home about it. I know I'm probably just being paranoid, but they do monitor my email at work. It wouldn't be that hard to work out. I know they probably wouldn't…but we don't have to either.

Christian

Fair enough

Tom