Sunday

I woke up at 7.30am, after another failing at uni dream. [it is my only repetitive dream] What is that all about? No, really? In those first moments of consciousness, I have to mentally check what my student status is? You know, for real.

It was one of those hotter-on-the-inside-then-the-outside kind of days. Almost Muggy, overcast, warm but with cool air cutting through. The relief after two consecutively hot days.

I let Buddy in, but continually checked him not to go upstairs. In the end, it was as if he said, “fuck you” and he went back to his kennel. [Oh, I should have just let him go upstairs, why am I Captain Meanpants?]

Sam wasn’t up much later, maybe an hour.

We played around with the indoor plants, finally taking the poor tortured pelargonium back outside for a well earn rest, post traumatic sunshine. It never really coped inside. My quest for a flowering plant in my atrium.

Then of course it was time for chores, after that, after 9.30am. Sam exhaled loudly a few times when I was still at my computer and not behind the vacuum, as he had instructed.

Of course, Sunday morning is vacuuming day, specifically for me, it is downstairs vacuuming to be done. I was halfway through the lounge room when Sam came down from upstairs. He suggested that I should have cleaned up the coffee table first. His face was priceless when I turned to him and replied,

“Sorry mate, I only do floors,” in my best bogun tones.

Jill text at 10.50am saying she was nearly at Ikea and she was thinking about dropping in. I said that would be lovely, bring pastries.

We waited and waited and waited.

I text her at midday and asked her where she was. She replied that she was still at Ikea and that she’d be about an hour.

We walked down to Victoria Street and ate yum cha.

We did grocery shopping.

We walked home.

Jill arrived not long after with Princess cakes and a blueberry flan.

She told us the story of Graham – some builder guy Jill has become entangled – and his estrangement from his wife. The first night that he stayed he text her and asked her if she was going to warm him up in his cold bedroom. She immediately wondered if he needed a blanket. We laughed. The second night the flirting continued. She fooled around with him of his third night. She said it stopped short of going the whole way. [good for Jill, she hardly gets any, not since that guy, Steve, broke her heart all those years ago.]

We took Buddy for a long walk.

We went to the supermarket.

We ate noodles for dinner.

We watched the siege in Martin Place on 60 Minutes. Sam sat watching it slathering his legs in Tiger Balm, until the room stank of the stuff until I asked him what the hell hurt to warrant that amount of that stinky fucken cream.

We watched The Hangover 2 until Sam couldn’t stay up any longer and we went to bed before midnight.

I have to go into my job tomorrow, which won’t be any fun without Kerin there. Just Kirin. Oh well, what can you do?