Day Off

I started the day with a joint. I wasn't going to, had too many things to do. But, there I found myself at the mull bowl, mulli in hand. I was trying to be so quiet and I thought I was succeeding, until Shane announced. "You wouldn't be starting the day with a smoke, would you?"

Doh!

I told him that I hadn't been sure about coming clean, or not?

"I guess you just have," he replied.

David's gone to Sydney, for some crack-whore conference.

9.05am, good thing the mechanic isn't too far away. My mechanic doesn't open until 9am. Very civilised. Gotta rush.

In a split second decision, I decided to take La Trobe Street, instead of heading down Victoria to Dudley. 9.15, how much traffic could there be? It was the wrong decision, I have to conclude. Plain sailing until Queen, then almost bumper to bumper. Grrr!

Whoosh! head spins, as I walk back along Spencer.

Have guys suddenly got a lot cuter? Or is it me? Woof! Every where I looked, as the 86 sailed up Bourke.

Got home around 10am. Ate muesli, drank coffee, be still my beating head.

I managed to get down to Smith Street and get my hair cut. First time at the barber. My haircuts have gone up to $50, so I decided to try somewhere else. It seems all my mates are going to barbers, now. Short hair.

And, how cute is Sam of Fitzroy. Just my type. Dark, hairy, woggy, nice arse.

I looked in the mirror and my eyes looked like fire beacons. Half closed, but. (I managed another joint before I headed out for hair) I looked wasted. Sick, even. I kept my eyes down, after that. Which, was pretty much where Sam's full crotch was located. So, win, win!

Soldier on with Codral.