7am

Miss (me) had clearly had far too many of his 'happy ciggies' when he tried to get the bins through the front door without waking the entire household this morning. Bang! Crash! Shh.

Anyway, managed it without waking the entire household and that is job for the day done, crisis averted, sweetie.

Sam is working in Brisbane, he left at 4am. That was quick, I hear you say. Who are your sources?

That was last week, Sam was furious. I just went and got it Thursday, it was a sunny day I was sweeping, I just needed a little lift. Far from demotivating, I find I do stuff. A couple of j's and I just start doing the stuff that needs doing.

Of course, Sam's take on it may be slightly different, You are a boring, fat, slob who never stops eating, and when you do manage to stop putting hand to mouth, you fall asleep (on the couch, usually, later in the evening. And who doesn't?) Chuckle. Nervous look. I'm sure the truth is somewhere in between, of course, Sam is at work when I am most productive.

What he did miss was my stealth manoeuvre, yesterday afternoon, to replenish my 'stash', he failed to sense that one. Points off, I thought my boyfriend was made of sterner stuff. You are making it too easy.

As far as his 2 days away, I have been saying all week, as I will be left under my own supervision, I shall supervise myself as I see appropriate. My supervision is my supervision. And somehow I got away with that one. I said it initially, and wasn't shot down in flames, so I repeated it, constantly, and often, until it became a part of our dialogue. So we had a temporary cease fire on that one. (christian 1, sam 0)

But I'd run out yesterday morning, but I had wisely given up progress reports on the dwindling stash, that one took me quite some time to grasp. So he-who-thinks-he-runs-the-ship lost track.

I started smoking cigarettes around lunch time, and the first one was disgusting, and I just wanted to give it a little green garnish, but know, I was going to be good. All afternoon, I was going to be good. Then at 4pm I decided, who's idea was that? Who said I had to be good? Not moi. What is 'good' anyway? Somebody else's paradigm of some interpretation of what 'good' might be. And against all odds, I was sitting back on my garden chair with a coffee and a spliff @ 4.45pm, who said it couldn't be done.

Then I just played it au natural. Like taking candy from a baby.