Dreaming and Fretting

Toss. Toss. Turn. Turn. Ah! Oh! Eyes open. Shake head.

I glance over at the clock, it is 6am.

I sit up. I gaze at the dark turning to light, beyond my balcony French Doors.

I dreamt about (my old bitch boss) Belinda again. I was working on a ship. I was really busy, with a full schedule. I was flat out working hard. Then Belinda came along and gave me a number of chores to do. I was trying to get all of my jobs done, so I could do Belinda’s. I was working hard. I was up against it. I just didn’t have the time to get them all finished, but I was trying hard. I was desperate to get them done. I was stressed about no being able to make it.

Then Belinda showed up. “Have you done those things I asked you to do?”

I started to answer her, to tell her that I hadn’t had the time.

“Actually, don’t worry, I will go and check for myself.”

I wonder if I am going to go back to sleep.

I also had my failing at uni dream. It must be the only recurring dream that I have. It is always the same, I am going to a class most of which I have missed up until that point in the year.

I know I am not going to fall back to sleep, I can feel it. I pull out my laptop. I think about coffee.

What am I going to do with my life? I thought. I’m in a fool’s paradise, as they say. Sure, I have enough money to pay for the mortgage for the next year, but that is if nothing else crops up? If no other unexpected expenses come my way. You know, like $2000 for my tooth, suddenly. It would only take a couple of things like that and I’d be screwed. No, really. There is no extra money now, there is no mum to bail me out, there is no dad to ask, there is nothing like that now.

So, do I get a job?

Do I rent out the other rooms in the house?

Do I really want to live with other people? Do you really want to work?

Oh, what to do?

Why can’t I come to a decision? Why am I continually asking these questions, with no semblance of an answer?

Life is hard? (He says nervously thinking about the people dying from dehydration in Africa, or the Japanese who had their lives washed away)

So I start writing an email to Janelle at (insert name of old recruitment agency/employer), but I saved it in “drafts” instead of sending it, first thing, as I ate my breakfast.

I open up Seek and find two jobs that I could apply for. But, do I want to, am I just worrying about going back to work? I’m feeling sick at the thought, feeling like I could never do it, deciding that I wasn't ready, I headed outside. Stupid, I know. I don't know if I am just being self indulgent, or if I have post sacking stress syndrome. Is there such a thing?

I go out in the back yard and clean. Of course, I am looking for a distraction from going back to work, as it is bugging me.

I decided to water my pot plants, enjoy the fresh air, being out in the daylight enjoying the garden. Simple pleasures.

When I was done, I looked up at my car and thought, I really must polish that. I ran my hand across the roof, and think I should just do it then, instead of just thinking about it. I look at my hand, thinly covered in dirt. It needed to be washed first. Oh well, that’s that. What? So, wash it. So, I washed my car. When that was done, I look at the polish I had and it was Kitten Cut No 2, which was for poor or severely weathered paintwork, which I decided my wasn’t. It still had a shine to it, I could see that as the sun reflected in the white paintwork.

I need Kitten Cut No 1.

Oh, really?

So, shrug, I had a nice clean car.

Fuck me!

It was a nice idea.

Then there was the matter of the hibiscus bush, cut out of the front yard last week, lying on the ground next to my car. I guess, I have to cut it up? Oh, it’s going to be a big job? Oh, I can’t do it. Just start by cutting up one branch at a time and see how you go. In fact, get your secateurs and start chopping up the thinner branches, I tell myself. Just start, don’t think about the finish.

I cut it all up, done before I know it. Then I cut up the remaining plant cuttings, the old lilac tree, the rose, which had been lying on the ground for months, many months now. Once I have removed the top layer of debris, the composting layers are then exposed; leaves and small branches, which are now turning into soil, they have laid on top of the paving for so long. I swept the layers of dirt from the bitumen, the years of sedimentary layers, and the specially laid brown concrete paving is exposed for the first time in, oh I don’t know how many years?

Luke arrived with Aby and Lilly. Luke doesn’t hang around, he heads straight back home.

Rob arrives in the very next minute and he and Aby go shopping. Rob still looks mighty handsome. He fills out those jeans so well. And he is such a nice guy.

I was desperately trying to finish the cleaning up operation, you know, clear the other car park so it could be used. Who has an off-street parking car space in the inner suburbs, which is only used to house plant cuttings?

I could probably even rent it out.

I didn’t get the job finished. But, I was fucked by the time I had finished.

I spoke to Sam and he said that he was going to cook fried rice for lunch tomorrow, did I want some.

He sometimes takes food in for lunch and we go and sit by the Yarra and eat it. “Sure,” I said.

He talked about coming over. I said something about a two year old being very noisy and he agreed that maybe he should give me some bonding time with Aby.

“Sure,” I said.

Aby had eaten with Rob. She was suffering from sciatica and asked if I had any painkillers. I had strong painkillers from my toothache, prescription painkillers, no less. She was pleased to get them and then headed to her room.

I ate soup for dinner, during which I called Sam on video telephone call. I told him I was on my own and that he should have come over.

He said never mind and asked what time I’d be over for lunch?

“Come over to your place for lunch?”

“Yep, it will be easier to cook at my place than your place anyway, that way I have more ingredients.”

“You are going to be home tomorrow?”

“What? Oh, I don’t believe you? Really? You are so vague?”

“What?”

“Tomorrow is Cup Day.”

Oh, I thought. Everything just fell into place, like dominoes falling, the lunch, coming over after work, all of it. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“Why do I have to tell you it is Cup Day?”

“You must know by now, every day is the same to me.”

Which it is. Cup Day. Show Day. Who cares!

Damn! I think. He already thinks I’m vague.

“Oh please, you are kidding aren’t you?”

Aby came down and filled her fuzzy red fur covered hot water bottle and went to bed some where before 10pm.

I went to bed somewhere after 10pm. It’s a bit early, I guess? Why not, I thought? I love my bed. I don’t have to stay up until 3am just because I can.

Shane was at night school.