And Then Life Can Just Get Easier

I made mistakes at work today. I think I caught them all. I’m sure.

It’s just a phase I am going through. What do they care, they get to take time off for sick kids. Oh yes, I’m not permanent. I keep forgetting that one.

I deleted a whole file. Idiot. But I didn’t do my usual own up to it, pathetic squawk, I simply recreated the whole complicated spread sheet, zip, done.

(bosses name) doesn’t give me any warmth. None. I’m beginning to feel uncomfortable with her, just a little, like my time in the house is up. Bye bye Collins Street.

Am I bonged-over and uncommunicative?

I figure I get to ask one question once. You know, there never was a dumb question, just the dummy who didn’t ask it. I can’t read my boss’ expressions. I don’t need to be told again, generally. And I don’t make mistakes – unless I have been smoking pot – generally, but lately I don’t know if she is looking at me like a I’m a dummy, or if she has Botox injections, paralysis of the face, simple she has a very blank expression.

I sneaked out for two cigarette breaks. Fuck it. I always think that no one notices what I do, so I do take a few liberties, you know like a permanent salt picker would be entitled to, but not a temp salt picker.

The full disaster, like a pariah, tossed onto the street. Oh god, back out with them, how did this happen. Oh yes, mari.

I bought cigarettes on the way home. It was chilly. I photographed the elephants in the park.

I made tea and headed to my room.

I had pot to smoke

Shane and Tuli went out.

I was smoking pot on the balcony.

Shane called out from the street. I was sitting on the balcony with my laptop smoking a reefer. I didn’t want my hideout to be discovered. Sitting on my balcony I am the most number of doors away from people as I can get. So waited a moment until I could hear Shane on the front path, I pushed my French Doors open and stood up. I knew he would be paying so close attention to pick it.

“I’m locked out.”

He didn’t pay attention, he was looking at his reflection in the car window… and it was only ever about Shane’s access to the house that was the issue.

“Yes, yes, coming, coming.”

I swung the door open with a smile.

“I thought it was better to get the key before I left, but for you are sleeping, or something neryuk neryuk, neryuk.”

“Oh… yes… ha, ha, ho, ho.”

Not a word, nothing. Have I’ve got some thing to tell you, ask you, whatever. Nothing.

Shane and Tuli went out.

I made baked beans and toast. And a cup of tea, of course.

I drink a lot of coffee at work, I must ask someone if that is okay and that if it is indeed “open slather” as I am treating it. Have coffee machine, will drink coffee.

I smoked pot.

I spoke to Anthony on the phone. He thinks he’s had another stroke, he lost the use of his hand for a week. I told him to go to the doctor. He said he had, and he has to go for tests on a Monday appointment.

That’s what he was trying to tell me, when I brushed him off because of the cold. I’m a top notch friend.

Then I catch myself home alone taking photos of Ray on Big Brother, locked away in my room, wasted, and I wonder if I am going completely mental. I like messing around with images, it gives me photoshop practice.

I lay in bed and watched The Big Bang Theory. I love Sheldon.

Shane and Tuli came home.

I went down stairs and got all of my mum’s bills out. And made tea. I called my sister about some mail that had been sent to me and not to her. We discussed my mortgage and she has discussed it with my brother and I’m going to get most of my mortgage paid off.

Yay!

I made more tea.

We sold an investment property, the money is available. My brother and sister don’t care.

I won’t have to have any more housemates, if I don’t want. Although I probably should, reduced work means reduced superannuation payments too, you know, for later. You have to think about that stuff. Apparently?

Two housemates would now pay my mortgage. Maybe one housemate. He he.

I wrote out the cheques and the dreaded envelopes, and wondered if I’d be better off with internet banking for my mum, with a whistle and a can do demeanour. It would make things easier.

Life was gong to be easier.

I blew a joint before I spoke to the computer lady, and had to push all those buttons on telephone banking, because it helps me to focus narrowly, and the chore becomes a float on a breeze. I do a little dance as I push each button.

I went in and asked Shane to witness my, apparently lost, privacy statement for work. Not a peep about the wedding. I‘ve been meaning to send it back by return post but I keep forgetting about the witness. Grrr!

All done, just like that. Funny how the things you put off, are sometimes the easiest to fix.