The Night Before...

I woke up at 6.45am needing a piss. I was awake then, I knew it. I tried to go back to sleep, but no. I didn’t want to get up, but it was useless, I was awake.

Sam and I took Buddy for a walk at 8am. There is something nice about walking in the morning. The weather was mild.

We clean the kitchen. More people, more mess. The kitchen is on a constant churn.

We listen to Shirley Bassey sing. When she sings about something helping her at the Laundromat, I laughed. Shirley, one of the 20th Centuries greatest divas, putting a load of nickers through up the high street, I don’t think so. Not her, no. Do you reckon she’d be pleased to be used as cleaning music? (I reckon that is something at which Julien would laugh)

But I liked, All That Love Went to Waste.

We eat breakfast. Toast and Vegemite and coffee for me. Perhaps, just coffee for Sam. 

I read the news, like that ever inspired anyone. I looked at Zephyr Zodiacs on the internet as I eat my toast. I’d like a Mk1. I am fascinated by their shape, all smooth curves. My brother Will had that black one when he first turned 18. I loved it. 

Mark got up at 10am. He made coffee. Complained that our coffee machine doesn’t make it hot enough, as he always does. Complains generally when he comes to stay, which thrills Sam. 

I paid mum’s bills. I walked to the post box and mailed my letters. Mark laughs that I have a letter to post at all. 

“Who has letters to post?” Mark humorously chides.

I took a few photos of the street to add to the collection of houses in the street, kind of a 2014 time capsule. I bought cigarettes. I know, bad me. But they were for joints, which makes it better. Chuckle. 

We really smoked pot all day… or should that read… I really smoked pot all day.

We listened to music, played things off YouTube. All the old black divas, if it was my pick, Boyzone and Spice Girls, if it was Sam’s. We watched TV. Was it Carols By Candle Light? David Hobson and Marina Prior opened, she looked like a méringue. The lovely Lisa Wilkinson and the equally lovely David Campbell were hosts. (who wouldn’t want to see David Campbell in his undies) Everyone gather around the TV for a sing-a-long. 

That’s Xmas Eve. 

(Mark’s gruff brother) Rob called, there was some difficulty with (Mark’s mum) Marg, nobody wanted to drive her home and could we, (clearly Rob didn’t want to do it) with four people already in a small car, but that’s okay, we’ll manage. (What was it, she didn’t want to drive Lottie home from Bolago Xmas that year, just after dad died… what goes around comes around, is it, hey Marg? Although, she's now not so present, shall we say, and doesn't really know what's going on)

Luke cooked dinner, prawn pasta.

I think I drift off to sleep on the couch and was essentially incommunicado for most of the evening. Oh damn. The pot smoking doesn’t really agree with me if I really look at it, as messy is never attractive. Ask Sam. Becoming sleepy unconscious is not a recipe for anybody having a good time. I remember going to bed, even if I don’t know what time it was. Mark was asleep on one of the couches also. Sam didn’t say anything as we got into bed.