I was awake at 7am. Sam got up and woke me. I needed a piss. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Bugger! All I could do was think about it. So, I got up. Bugger!
The piss fell loudly into the toilet water, standing there first thing in the dim morning light.
"Get out," said Sam, standing like a shadow in the doorway. He wanted to shower. And he is pooh-phobic, in other words, he needs the bathroom to himself.
I was happily ensconced behind my computer at the lounge room coffee table ready to piss the day away, when Sam stood in the kitchen, ready to leave.
“Come on fat boy,” said Sam. He was smiling.
“Are you talking to me, or Buddy?”
Sam didn’t answer, he looked at the draw where Buddy's lead is kept and then he looked back at me, letting his eyes fall to my stomach, after which they slid back up to my face. Sam raised his eyebrows.
"It's raining," I said.
Sam took one step out of the kitchen and into the atrium and looked through the glass roof.
"Not now it is not.
It was rainy and cold. We walked to the park and back in between the rain falling. It was cold and grey out there.
The house seemed very quiet when I got home. I made coffee, upon my return, of course.
I paid mum’s care and posted my security pass back to Voula.
I messaged Jack to make sure Voula submitted my time sheet. I told him about posting the security pass. Jack said, good job.
I lit a fire, it was really cold. I burnt the malle roots, despite thinking they wouldn’t fit in the fire place, they really do burn for ages.
Sam messaged me and told me to go and buy dinner, since I was home. That's twice he had disturbed my day off.
I drove to the supermarket in the rain to get dinner. Yes, I drove. I'm sorry about the green house gas I caused, but it was raining.
I chose the moment to leave that I did, as there were workmen parked in the street making noise and I wanted to move them along. They moved right along. I'm sick of the growing trend of workmen commandeering parts of the road to park their trucks. "Bugger off, park some where else." It is just lazy. It is a sign of the times. I'm okay, mate, and fuck you. Well, sometime you just have to move them along and move them along I did.
The rain seemed to fall harder as the last of the workmen cleared away from my driveway and I reversed out into X Street and selected first for the 100 metre drive to the supermarket.
I was on the internet for the rest of the day. Snug as a bug in my cocoon my house, my home. I ate fried rice for lunch.
I discovered that the only Patti Labelle album that I don’t have was remixed and rereleased in May this year. I ordered it on line from Amazon, it should take 10 days to get here. And then, for the first time in my life, I will have a complete Patti LaBelle album collection. Yay.
Oh yes, very busy here today. Two days off, what can I do?
Sam got home at 5.30. I made him tea.
We watched Teev all night.
We ate tomato and chorizo sausage pasta for dinner. It had a funny flavour. I must have pulled a face.
“So, you don’t like my cooking now?”
“I’m not saying that, I said. “It just tastes… a… bit burnt.”
Sam’s expression clearly changed. “It is a bit burnt,” said Sam. “Don’t complain.”
"That's all I was saying." Or not saying, as I hadn't really said anything. I just pulled a face, inadvertently at the, unexpected, sour taste of burnt tomato rubbing up against my taste buds. But, I didn't, actually, say anything, until I was asked, that is. I know not what to say... and when to, actually, comment, about a partner's cooking achievements. I'm not stupid.
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