Monday, December 12, 2011

Lazy Monday

Sam left at 7.50’something. I dozed until after 8am. Then I made a cup of coffee and scampered back to my room.

I was hungry, but I didn’t have any milk. Stupid me! I did some writing, but my stomach was grumbling. I thought of food several times, but everything meant that I had to get out of bed again and nearly all of it meant I had to leave the house.

I smoked pot on my balcony with my laptop until the front door went bang and Shane left for work. He can’t really see me on my balcony, as I gaze down at him.

Shane grinds his car into reverse and drives away.

Mark called. I told him I was fine. “You didn’t sound happy when I called yesterday afternoon.” 

“No, I was fine. Just in the middle seat of the truck, trying to keep awake.”

I told him Jane had been criticising him, probably against my better judgement. He said he had spoken to her a few times and she had seemed cool towards him.

“I don’t know why I am always responsible for making everything right in her life?”


I went to the supermarket, just short of the hunger pangs being too severe to walk to the shop. I followed a cute nuggety little wog down to the fruit section. I perved at his are and the bulge in his jeans and pictured him in his undies. I gazed at his curly dark hair and his five o’clock stubble, at 10am.


10.30. I just saw my next door neighbour, Gordon, come on to a sixty year old tradie, who was putting stuff in the back of his ute across the road. Gordon was heading to his car, a few car spaces along from his. The tradie nodded, Gordon smiled. The tradie smiled back. Gordon got that stupid expression on his face that men get when they think they are being admired, or when they think there is some chance of getting “a bit,” as slim as it may be. Of course, the ‘come on’ of a seventy year old is different to the ‘come on’ of any of the younger years. It is a stupid smile, and practically a curtsy and a long look back, where, I’m sure, the men of ‘conquests past’ flash through their minds.


I smoked a joint.

I fed Missy the new cat food I had bought her. I photograph her eating it. Actually, I photographed her looking displeased at her food bowl with a sour look at the remnants of the old food and then I photographed her tucking into her new food with gusto.

I pissed around with photos all day. It was a big pot smoking day, oh yes. I am getting sick of it though. I can feel my “Xmas smoking break” is nearly over. The euphoria lasts only a short time, the fun a little less, a week on the happy weed and I just manage to feel kind of normal.

Okay, so it’s been three weeks.

I drank a Rapid Loss meal replacement shake and headed to bed around 17.30. I was feeling hermity. It was a lazy old Monday, to be sure. A day of rest, after yesterday.

I got up around 10.30pm, as Shane was heading to bed. We met like ships in the night at the kitchen sink.

I stayed up and pissed around on my computer until 3am. I turned out the light around 5.30, the day was becoming light outside again, I noticed, after I turned off my lamp.

Vampire hours, when all is said and done, they suit me just fine.


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