Friday, June 14, 2013

Friday Off

It was raining when I woke up. Grey. Wet. I pulled myself out of the Manchester swamp, late. Cold. Bleak.

It was my day off, so 10am was a nice time to rise and I didn’t care about the grey or the cold. Fridays off, is there a nicer expression? I was thinking about gathering all of my journals together, or, at least, thinking of reading all of my old journals. I’m not sure why? I think I just wanted to write something, being creative. Perhaps, it was nostalgia.


I've been having really full on dreams, maybe it was just comforting. We had a shack in the country which we had to get a double bed out of... using a helicopter. The bed weighed 2 tones and we were all scared that if it fell it would crush us all. We had to get under it and guide it through a letterbox type slot in the roof, just the size of the double bed. It was really stressful and we were all in fear of dying in the process of the removal  Of course, once we had gotten the bed through the slot in the roof, there was no longer any roof at all and we could watch the helicopter flying away with the bed dangling below it.

I made coffee. I copied my latest journals over to my PC. Shrug, I just wanted to. Well, I guess, it is because of the disaster that befell my laptop. And while that was backed up on two hard drives, you can never be too backed up… er, safe... um… saved. The two complete back ups could only be restored to an Apple computer, even if the 3rd photo back up could be restored to either PC or Apple.

I guess it was just to feel safe. You know how we all have the greatest desire to feel safe. The news services use it to sell their news. The politicians use it to win votes. It is burrowing into the 21st century psyche like a tick, I’m no exception. 


Okay, so it was my turn to do some house work. Sam has been doing it the last few weekends so, I guess, I could do some today. How hard can it be. Big smile. He just does it, he is just organised that way. Me, I never was.

I did washing, our dressing gowns. It was Sam’s orders, I messaged him. I sewed up Sam’s dressing gown loop, the one that has been broken for the longest time, which has annoyed me for as long as it has allowed the cord to hang down. I hate that when the dressing gown cord hangs down on one side, like nobody cares about it. And then I washed it, both our dressing gowns, with fabric softener, as per Sam's orders. This was despite reading recently that fabric softener makes you depressed. Kind of ironic, hey?

The rain stopped and the day brightened up a little, even if the sun didn’t really shine. Home on a Friday. Lovely.

Buddy and I headed out into the street. I was sweeping the front path, those hibiscus flowers on the ground are lethal when they are wet, like slime, slippery slime. I swept them out into the street gutter. A grey haired lady came along, one of the sophisticated Fitzroy types of old, she hesitated when she saw Buddy roaming free.

“He wont hurt you, he is very gentle.”

“What sort of dog is he?” she asked.

“A British Bulldog,” I replied.

“You don’t see very many of them,” she replied.

We lament what is happening to Fitzroy, us traditional landholders. And I am not even one of the original inhabitants really. They are the old university types from the 1970s, I'm sure like the grey-haired lady passing by.

A cute man, with slicked back hair, came along and as he was getting into his 2 door silver BMW, I called Buddy and he ignored me. I looked at the guy and said, "Famously obedient." And he laughed and said he had a bulldog himself. At which point Buddy ran off and BMW man laughed.

I caught up with Buddy and turned him around and pointed him towards home and ran and jumped up on a man coming the other way in a lovely suit. Fortunately the man just laughed.

I took Buddy for a walk, everybody loved him in Brunswick Street, to the coffee shop to get a new seal for my coffee pot. The two jobs I had to do today was get the new seal and have a haircut and rather than put them off, like I normally would, I had a shower, got dressed and got to it.

“Lovely,” said Sam.

Two girls from the coffee shop hugged him and said they wanted him

“You follow my orders then?“

I went to the French bakery and bought a muffin, as I was looking for somewhere to tie Buddy up, one of 2 old ladies sitting at an outside table held out her hand to hold his lead, just like that. She was in a wheel chair with a knee rug and I found it so endearing I didn’t question it. The lady she was with, quite possibly her carer, lent down and grabbed Buddy’s collar too.

I was probably a little foolish to give her the lead, I soon thought, so I had to keep my eye on them. I’m not sure, but if another dog had come, it could have been a disaster.

“Did I get muffin too?” asked Sam.

“Oh… um… er…”

“Selfish. Poor poor me.”

“I would have been really happy to get you one.”

But? Too busy thinking yourself? 


Ouch!

I went and had my hair cut. I wondered if they’d be open at something to 4 in the afternoon. Was this just the beginnings of an excuse to stay sitting on my fat bum? I asked myself. But, they were both there, Iraqi and Fat Boy. Iraq caught my eye first and pointed me to his chair. I caught Fat Boy's eye a second later and I am sure he looked disappointed. I was disappointed too, I wanted Fat Boy's fat sausage like fingers on my hair. Fat Boy chatted to me the slightest excuse he got. He took over when I was paying, laughing and blushing red in that adorable way he does.


Sam came home and almost immediately wanted to go to the supermarket to shop for dinner. I was not so keen. I'd already left the house twice today, how many times did I have to go out into the fray? I ask you? It is not humanly possible to continue to go out and socialise with the riff raff out there, now is it? He, he. Ha ha.


"No, not the supermarket again! No, Sam, no!" 

We were discussing eating alternatives, instead of heading to the supermarket, as it turned out neither of us wanted to go. We had left over Japanese Curry and rice, so we heated that up. Sam also cooked egg.

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