Last day of my holidays. Yesterday, I was in denial about the time frame and lay on the couch with YouTube for the day. I tried to write some fiction, but it just wasn’t coming to me. Today, I need to do something a little more productive.
Well? I’d better go take the dogs for a walk while I contemplate what comes next?
Resignation? Oh, wouldn’t that put a smile on Sam’s face. I chuckle to myself.
After I have eaten, I go and have a shower. I at least have a shower every second day, I never go longer than that.
Sometime around 9am, I take the Bulldogs for a walk. The sun is shining. The sky is clear, unblemished blue above our hands. And there’s a bit of a breeze, lovely.
There are four cute boys in sports clothes, one tall and athletic, one with curly hair, one with a deep tan just in shorts jogging, one handsome Asian all in black, before we even leave our street.
As we get going, there are two sexy boys walking ahead of us in shorts and T-shirts. Nice legs on both of them, all the way I up to their arses.
It is a lovely day, I must say. It’s nice to be out early’ish in the morning enjoying the morning.
A bit further along, two men kiss outside the Japanese coffee house. Actually, they don’t. It was just something I saw out of the corner of my eye. I think they just stepped towards each other. Looking at them though, I’d like to see them kiss, sexy mid thirties in shorts, one blond, one dark.
At the next street, I look back at the bulldogs when they are lagging behind me too much, and I think I see out of the corner of my eye a drunk lying in one of the garden beds as we are about to cross the next side street, but when I focus, there’s no body in the garden.
It must be the gravitational spin of the year or, my biorhythms, or perhaps failing eyesight. Maybe all three. I laugh, but I don’t know why.
A bit further along, I see the woman opening up one of the dress boutiques, in a terrible brown skirt and a pale blue denim jacket. It looks like she’s got her tits out, but when I double take, it must’ve just been the fold of the t-shirt under the denim jacket.
Maybe I’m having a stroke and I just don’t realise.
Fifteen minutes of walking, with Sam not with me, I can pull all the old posters off the lamp posts that I want. And I do as I walk along the street. Sam always gets irritated by it and tries to hurry me along. Oh, I don’t care. All those terrible posters once stuck to the light posts, now invariable hanging down in tatters, I just pull down the broken frayed bits as I walk past and toss them in the nearest bin.
It has taken us over fifteen minutes to get to Brunswick Street. The sun is shining beautifully, the breeze is blowing refreshingly.
Halfway down Brunswick Street, a sexy dad, tall with great legs in tight dark blue shirts, is walking his little daughter up the street. He is so tall compared to her, the size difference is mesmerising.
Fifteen minutes later, we turn into Johnston Street. The sun is shining brightly, but it is warm rather than hot.
At the first set of lights, a cute boy rides down Napier Street in pale blue jeans with an arse like a peach. I hope some young man makes use of that. It would be a shame if he didn’t, I think. Perhaps, I should have been a match maker? Maybe, I am delirious?
We amble along. The bulldogs have got into their bulldoggy stride.
Fifteen minutes later, we turn into our street. We walk up the sunny side of the street, as the sun isn’t too fierce just yet.
A tall, skinny streak of a woman, in pencil thin trousers, a blood red t-shirt and a tight fitting blue cardigan, walks towards us. She is looking at us apprehensively, or is she just pilled up on sedatives? There is something very Norma Desmond about her. She ambles slowly towards us. I wonder if she is scared of the bulldogs, but she passes us as if she doesn’t even know we are there. I think she was pilled up on sedatives. Maybe, that was the face of madness passing us in the street?
The local café that is always open, isn’t open. It seems strange not to see its tables out on the footpath. It is interesting the things you get used to seeing, that you don't know you are used to seeing, until you no longer see them. They must be on Xmas break too.
We cross over to the shady east side of the street just after Moor Street immediately noticing Perry & Kim The Painters trailer is parked in front of the 3rd house along. There is someone mixing paint in the hallway of the house, but I can’t see through the wire door who it is, not that I really try to. I don’t really care to see them, no, not really.
An hour after we left home, we’re home again. For the most part, the bulldogs walked well.
I go out and pull out weeds in the street. Our bluestone gutters now fill up with weeds. I suspect the miserable Yarra Council has stopped maintaining them. If I pull them out when they first appear, it only takes me 5 minutes, or so, to deal with them.
I plant geraniums under the tree outside the house four houses down, that got the most recent new tree, so it matches the other geraniums under the trees in the street. Of course, I only plant red geraniums, which isn’t what is under the other trees, but red are the only colour I like.
My arm bleeds like a bitch, I suddenly notice as I am planting the cutting, with my blood the same bright red of the flowers. I don’t know what I did to it, but those drugs that do something to my blood, really do make me bleed a lot. Which reminds me, I have a doctor’s appointment early January. I wonder when that is?
I fix my succulent that that big oaf Charlie knocked to the floor in the house breaking the ceramic pot on the tiles in the atrium. Not a word from him, other than his usual neanderthal grunt. And he just left it smashed on the floor, no apology, nothing.
After all of that, I make coffee and eat the donut in the fridge that I have been telling Sam to eat. He catches on quickly and rushes into the lounge room to eat half of it, which I don’t mind at all, I’ve been telling him to eat it, but when he washes it down with my coffee, I take exception.
I write my journal.
Just the rest of the day until I am due back at the salt mines. Sad face.
The day sparkles outside, it really does.
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