I walked into my bosses office - I have 4 levels of boss, this was two up - and said good morning, tell her I was back. I hadn't spoken, as yet and my voice came out as a husky croak. Deep and low, a couple of octaves down from my usual tone.
"You sound shocking."
I thought I was feeling better, was better. I wanted to say, no it's just that I haven't spoken yet, just a frog, but my still small voice took over. "I felt better when I got up, but now..." I shook my head, winging it on her sympathy.
"Sometimes it's when you go out into the cold."
"And it was cold this morning."
"Do you have much you need to do?"
"I'm not sure."
"Just get what you have to get done and then go home."
"Okay, then." My voice croaked, I was sure I was laying in on by this stage, though.
I had lunch with S at 12.30, so I knew my health would last until then.
We ate Italian and held hands across the table, cute, huh? ...despite the restaurant being full of corporate types. I don't care, it's good for them, educational. If we all shy away, then nothing ever changes and the GP never gets used to two boys or two girls. We are as much to blames as the hets, too scared.
Clearly, S isn't shy either.
Of course, it was a political statement, something to finish off the cannelloni, just nicely. Ha, ha! A long mach and a fuck you! thanks. I don't care what other queers are doing, fight for yourselves. I just decided long ago not to be afraid. Of course, I don't hold hands with him at midnight at The Village Green, just the inner queer suburbs, or the CBD. How brave am I?
Then it was a little mosey through JB then a quick recy (nnoitre) around the Hill of Contentment. Then a tram home from Spring because I needed, um, er, shall we say a convenience. (for the lay folk that's take a crap) Four stops and I was home, good thing too, oiy! I wanted a walk, but it was probably best I stayed out of the cold. I don't want to feel poorly tomorrow, let's face it, it's the weekend.
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