Saturday

I woke up at 8.30am, my arms were cool as I pushed them out from under the bed clothes into the morning air. I had tossed and turned for the first few moments that I was awake, before I pushed my arms out from under the covers and I knew that I was awake. Releasing my arms and uncovering myself was submission to consciousness. I looked over at Sam, his head lay sideways on his pillow. His eyes cracked open and he spoke, soft and low. Doona stealer he said.

Cringe. I hate that. I hate the very idea that I would leave him naked and exposed, shivering on the bed in the darkness of the night. Well, not so much naked as cold.

I was awake. I slid out of bed.

 “Why do you always want to get up so early on the weekend?”

What? I couldn’t believe what I was hearing… from nana who always wants to go to bed at dusk, practically.  “Perhaps, it has something to do with your cup of warm milk and a knitted knee rug attitude to bed time... nana?” Sheesh!

“It was 12.30am…”

“So,” trying not to sound too sarky, “I have had, um, 8 hours sleep.” I wasn’t so sure where the confusion came into it?

“Or was it 1am?”

“So, I have had 7 ½ hours sleep. Shrug. Hands in the air on either side of me. Good god Agnes Magillicutty what time do you expect me to get up?”

He just craned his head above the edge of the doona and his beautiful brown eyes gave me “the look.”

I tucked him in good and proper, like a papoose in oilskins. I fussed. Should that read faux fussed? He resembled a Cornish pasty by the time I was finished. 

I headed downstairs.

I had a dream last night that I was working in a call centre set up in a supermarket. All of the workers were in the isles of the supermarket, the isles were crowded with people. I was trying to get my phone, or some sort of communication device, working by nailing nails into the edges of the selves. The nails were silver conical shaped, a little like silver pine cones. I nailed one of them in crookedly, but it was decided by a conference of the people gathered around that it would be okay. I put the communications device on the very top of the shelves, from which I had wires, which I wrapped around the nails I had hammered into the shelves.

I was doing some sort of training with two girls, one of which was clearly getting some training, or some benefit that I wasn’t getting and she was gossiping with the other girl, in whispers, in the isle about this while I was setting up my communications device.

I felt like I was being cheated out of something, even if I didn’t know what that thing was.

It was overcast and quiet a grey morning. It was quiet, as mornings are. I let Buddy in and he danced across the lounge from the back door towards me.

I brewed coffee and prepared muesli and turned on my laptop.

Sam appeared pretty soon after I got up, despite the earlier carry on. Boys? They like to wah wah wah, but then when you go and leave them, they soon come a running.

It seemed like I had only read the first article of the Age and I hadn’t even got to my blog when Sam finished reading his nerd news and wanted to do stuff around 9.30am.

“Come on, let’s wind proof the door. Come on, let’s clean the house. Come on let’s do something.”

“Your nerd news finished, I gather?”

Apparently, nerd news is limited today because there is a holiday in America. Independence Day? There must be a lot of bespectacled, curly-haired, cardigan wearing computer geeks who are tapping their fingers and wondering what to do with themselves. Oh, in reality, I guess not, they have the whole web to play with, but you know what I mean.

Speaking of boredom…

Sam pissed around for a while after that, until he announces that he has adjusted something on our home wireless network construct thingy and now we can watch TV on our laptops, iPads and even our phones.

“I can assure you that I will never want to watch TV on my smartphone, but thank you anyway.”

“You can now sit on the toilet and watch TV. You’ll miss nothing.”

Micro boredoms, indeed.

Rage is now playing on my phone.

He told me I was just boring when I switched it off. I was getting the ads blaring at me… when I think all advertisers, the actors who appear in their ads and the outlets that sell their products should all be firebombed, or killed. It is simple. I never understand why advertisers are given free rein to spoil my life.

We headed off to Lygon Street to Killiney. It was 11.30am. I ate muesli for breakfast, but Sam didn’t eat anything. As we walked around from Drummond Street, where we parked, I ask Sam if we were, in fact, having breakfast, brunch, or lunch? 

“What difference does it make?”

“We are now on different eating cycles,” I said. “I am just checking which meal you think you are on?”

“Breakfast.”

“I’m on brunch.”

“No, I guess it is lunch.”

“I’m still on brunch.”

“We’ll have lunch later?”

“No, this is it.”

“We won’t stop again for lunch?”

“You have chicken in the fridge at home.”

“Oh yes I do.”

“We just need to get some more salad.”

“So, I can have kaya toast and coffee?”

You can never be too careful about these things. We have to be careful, as we both get cranky when we get hungry, both of us. Neither of us are nice when we are food deprived.

Sam had Nasi Lemark, I had Kaya toast and we both had coffee. The sun was shining, but it wasn’t that warm.

We went to Sam’s place to check his online banking security tag, which hadn’t arrived, to take housemate Brian’s 200 mobile phone inside, he’s in New Zealand, and to check the place over generally. We picked up the Blu-ray player, the Bose speakers, which we can Bluetooth everything to which we can’t wirelessly connect to otherwise. And his PlayStation. I think Sam has great hope that he may be able to retrain me to appreciate games.

And I got a new mouse to use with mu laptop. This one is the panty pad shaped one, replacing my gorgeous sensuous egg shaped one, but, hey, at least the snatch rag one works much better.

We went to the pet shop in High Street. The cute wog boy was there, with his bubble butt pushing out the sexy arse in his shorts. He’s that beefy twenty something wog boy cute. Cute smile, sexy attitude, that husky wog boy voice.

I’d love to see him in his undies.