An America Youtuber said. I’ve already went to the lawyer. They are not alone. I hear it all the time, usually from Americans.
They use disappear in a weird way. They disappeared him.
They use drug instead of dragged.
These aren't isolated instances, these are quite wide spread.
Is that what the education system in, what they would call, the greatest country in the world, is like? You know, crap?
Funny. No matter what they say, Australian's know that Australia is a pretty great country.
My day in the office. Yay. We're going to discus my holidays at 10.30am. They told me to take leave, as I have too much leave accrued. I didn't really want to, but once I thought about it, I thought I'll take the summer off. So, I've put in for 2 months off. Yay. There is some drama about who is going to fill in for me. Whatever? What do I care. I'll be on holidays.
My car club show is today, my annual event with my gay car club. Time to get the Peugeot out, spruce it up and give it a run.
You know, I'd probably do more with them, if Sam and I weren't such homebodies no a days. I must organise to go on some car rallies, as I used to love car rallies once.
Anyway, at least it isn't raining, like last year when it got cancelled due to poor weather.
The day turned out to be a nice day.
It rained a lot. The weather turned to poo after being glorious for days.
It rained and rained. We ate lunch at home, where we'd normally head out for it, for the pleasure of paying $80, stupid isn't it.
Sam made Beef Bulgogi.
When the rain broke, we headed into the city for much needed haircuts. They were over due.
It was kind of nice, as the sun kind of came out.
I thought we’d get straight in and either I was wrong, or everyone else had the same idea, and there was a 45 minute wait before we got sat in the chair. But, I didn’t care as ugly/cute guy was back and he cut my hair, which I was very pleased about as he is my favourite cutter. It always looks good when he cuts it.
We wandered home afterwards. Happy with our cut hair.
There were multiple weddings at the top of Bourke Street. I never really understand why they want photos with the back drop of Parliament house. I think it is all those stairs. Neoclassical Steps they say, apparently.
The rest of the day we were parked on the couch. Lovely.
The other good news is apparently the Russian economy is on the brink of collapse, while Ukraine has become a drone technology powerhouse, very sad for the Russians, but good for the world.
Maybe the axis of old man, the trio of evil will all be over all at once. Israel, America and Russia? It would be good for the world.
Cross your fingers.
Glued to the wash up of the mid term elections in America. Can't get enough of Trump getting his great fat, corrupt, racist, nappy encased, arse handed to him on a plate.
My day in the office was gloriously short. All of my team were not in the office. Boris was at home. The Midget was on annual leave.(Later, I might have not realised the Big Poo was in. Shrug) I left for home at 9:45am.
It rained for the rest of the day. Crying. The world was crying. What is with the rain?
Today is Melbourne Cup Day. What is it they say, the race that stops the nation. Very Melbourne.
Nyr. Whatever. I didn't follow it at all.
I read online news. I lay on the couch.
I’ve cleaned my elephants. I have an elephant collection. My favourite, amazing animals. I noticed they wer dusty so I got out the vacuum, but they were sticky dusty, so I got a damp cloth. I've bought them in New York and Tokyo and Amsterdam and London and Melbourne, of course. One of them came from Bali. One of them was my great aunts. Actually, I haven't added to the heard lately, I must keep my eyes open.
It is grey and overcast outside, although no rain. Yay! The rain has finally stopped. It’s kind of weird though, I could almost light an open fire. I’m not going to. I have never had an open fire in November, so that makes that thought kind of weird. What's with the weather?
It’s a quiet day. Overcast, grey days tend to be still and quiet.
We took Otto for a walk in the park and the sun came out.
David called. We joked. Kiss, kiss, we made up, everything is good again. David says annoyingly he can't stay mad with me.
The sun shone outside, in the afternoon, lovely to look at from the inside, sparkling when you are sitting around. It made the day much nicer in the end.
I'm thinking of quitting my job and giving writing a go. Well, I can’t keep complaining about being made to go pointlessly into the office because The Midget needs to prove she has a big clit, all the while daydreaming about what I could be doing? Hey?
Eventually, I’ll just end up looking pathetic.
Do I already look pathetic? Big eyes.
It means a big scary change though. I’m used to being able to just accept my finances will be fine. What will happen if… I don’t know... will I be able to?... no idea.
Still, I can’t continue to hang onto something because I am scared to change it.
What does safe give you in the end? A slight empty feeling?
And you know they say it is not the things you do that you regret, it is the things you don’t do that people wish they could change.
And, you know, with the way the world is going, it may even be sensible to quit the day to day drudgery and enjoy what time we all have left.
In the office today. Yay. It’s kind of quiet with a public holiday tomorrow.
I’m guessing I’m not going to hear from David. I assume he has now gone in to full spoilt child meltdown over not getting his way the way he was carrying on yesterday. Oh? Um? Saturday.
Oh, I feel kind of tired thinking about it. There is only so much sympathy in the well for the “me, me, me, me, me! WHAT ABOUT ME!” kind of carryon.
Shrug. I guess, I'll have to contact him and reassure him that everything will be okay. Groan. Are we really 15 year olds again? I ask you?
Anyway, tomorrow is a public holiday, let’s just think about that.
Ah! Grrrrr! The Midget has annual leave to day. And Boris is working from home.
9.30am. I pack up and go home.
9.50am. I've changed and signed back into work.
David has been melting down all day, about my decision about us not to attending his birthday next year in Switzerland.
Too upset to speak, can’t stop crying, the works.
Roll of my eyes.
Jasus!
Worst thing, apparently, he says I’m the one he’d usually de-stress with, so it is even more difficult in this instance as he can’t do that.
I just cancelled a trip to Europe next year because it broke my heart thinking about how panicked Otto would be if we went and left him, due to his total co-dependence. He has never been left alone, longer than a trip to the supermarket, with working from home and all. Especially now Brun is dead and not hear to be with him.
Ah Brun, I am still sad about him.
Shrug. That is what you do when you are a dog owner and you know your best mate would be distraught if you went and left him.
Of course, I don't really feel like travelling overseas either. Er. Just the thought kind of fills me with, er, dread. Oh, doing all that. Er! I don't really know why, I used to be a great traveller.
I'm wondering if that is kind of it. I have travelled extensively overseas, I have seen lots of the places I wanted to so, is that it? Of course, there is always somewhere new, of course there is, but it does have a bit of that feeling of been there, done that.
It was to celebrate David's birthday in Switzerland. He took it very well when I told him I didn't want to go. That was a month before the RSVP, even though, of course, we had told him we were going already. It is 7 months before the event.
I thought I could talk myself into it. I thought I'd change my mind by the time we got to booking the plane tickets. I thought I'd come around, but we had to start booking the plane tickets and the thought of all of that, spending 24 hours on a plane, making our way to Basel, leaving Otto in the care of who knows who, and I still felt blah about it.
So, I pulled the plug.
David took it very well during the phone call when I told him. He has since been melting down about it just a bit. Ah. Oh. Big exhale. What can you do?
It is a lot of money to spend if you don't really want to go.
My iTunes on my iPhone completely fell apart.
My laptop has, apparently, had a corrupt music art folder cache for sometime. I think the problem started more recently when I got Sam's iPhone16, now that he is updating to an iPhone Duo. The change over was not smooth and it all started going down hill from there.
I've managed to work around it by adding and deleting files until I somehow manage to get the correct art work.
The only thing I couldn't do was get my Apple expert boyfriend interested in the problem.
I had asked him a number of times and if he didn't pass me off completely, he only gave it a cursory look with encouraging words like, You are doing the right thing, which I knew wasn't anywhere near correct.
I had googled it and the answer seemed kind of baffling, so I asked Sam and as I said, he just didn't seem to want to help.
At the beginning of the week, I uploaded a new CD I had bought and the art work changed for another CD of the same artist, so I did the stuff I'd been doing to correct that but it wasn't working for some reason. The cord connecting the phone to my laptop that I was using was being temperamental then suddenly all of the music on my phone was wiped off it in a blink of an eye.
WTF?
So, I uploaded my entire iTunes back onto my phone and when it was done all of the art work was completely messed up. Everything had the wrong art work.
Noooooooooooooo!
I tried uploading it again, using the same cord, and suddenly the music on my phone was wiped again.
I went to Sam and implored him to help. And finally, my lovely in every other aspect boyfriend, showed some interest saying, there was an update, which updated iTunes and to do that before I did anything else.
I uploaded my music again, but the art work was so messed up after that, I just wanted to give up in despair at the world. Sam was still not sharing my despair with life.
I wanted to go down to St Kilda pier and throw the phone into the sea.
I googled the instructions for clearing a corrupt art work cache again, putting my laptop down on Sam's lap saying, this is what you have to do!
It was at this point that finally Mr Lovely got interested.
He cleared the corrupt cache in what seemed like a couple of key strokes. If I wasn't so pleased about it, I may have slapped him.
Then he said, this cord you are using is no good.
"I've told you that."
"Go get the other one off my desk."
I did.
"There you go, this one fits properly."
I muttered something derogatory under my breath.
Then he took over and solved the problem. It took him a couple of days, but by yesterday, after months of problems, with me finally having to upload the art work for half my albums on iTunes manually, the problem was finally fixed.
Yay.
That's what I have been doing the last few days.
I went back to the gym.
I've come up with a new idea to combat going to the office on Monday.
I wake up early anyway. Oh, I don't know why? Because I'm stupid, because my body if rebelling against me, who knows, it doesn't matter.
I wake up at 5am. I sign into work and do all the work that I need to do. 5am to 9am is plenty of time to get nearly everything I have to do done.
I have 10 years of sick leave I have never used, and which I am never going to use.
Boris never signs in until 9am, so just before 9am, I'll message her and say I am sick for the day.
I put in sick leave for the whole day.
My work is done and I don't need to go to the office, using sick leave I am never going to use anyway.
I think it is brilliant.
The only problem, it is only an occasionally scheme that I can use.
Anyway, it gets me out of going to the office today, and that's all I care about at the moment. What is it they say, if you are anxious, you are living in the future, so lets not be anxious.
8am. I was done. I message Boris with my sick day message.
Boris replies hoping I feel better soon.
I feel no guilt.
I was up early, Milo and I sitting on the couch. It was really pouring with rain outside. I had to dry Milo with a towel as he jumped up on the couch next to me all wet, like he does, like cats do, I think.
The house is still heated up from those hot days we've had over the last few days. Crazy weather. Who'd know why we are having crazy weather?
Collectively, we all seem to be still in denial about it. We almost collectively put our fingers to our lips and wonder why. Well, it certainly doesn't seem to be foremost in our minds when we vote.
It seems like we are going to sleep walk our way into an environmental catastrophe, despite all the warnings, over all the years. I can't help but think.
I hear them talking about the calamitous fire season we are possibly going to have this summer. There is a lot of talk about greater funding needed for fire fighting, how we must be prepared with greater and greater resources.
But there never seems to be any talk about the reasons why we might be having a potentially catastrophic fire season. That talk always seems to be missing.
I sit here and wonder what it is going to talk to shake us from our blinkers, as I listen to the rain fall.
Still, the rain sounds nice falling on the roof.
It rained all day, it didn't stop. The rain fell for hours and hours. It never let up.
It rained, of course it did. It wouldn't be Melbourne if it didn't rain the day after we had our first 30 degree day since winter, now would it.
It was still warm. We still went out in shorts, of course we did. It was muggy warm. Everyone was out in the 30 degree day clothes, still, pretty much.
We ate lunch in Smith Street, in between rain showers, where the rain still fell in very fine sprinkles which felt nice falling on me, mostly under cover, if it felt anything at all, sort of relief from the muggy day.
There was a clutch of queens, with an ugly little dog, sitting behind us who were determined to be fabulous and loud. Oh! So! Loud! Er! go and be loud somewhere else, I thought. They were sitting in one of those stupid covid-era parkletts so, of course, I was hoping for a car loosing control and driving into them. Oh, not so bad that any of them would be injured, but just enough for them to collective shit the Gucci pants, so I could see it running down the backs of their legs and pooling in the leather loafers, requiring them to depart for parts some where other than there. But, you know, proving once again there is no god, that didn't happen.
Sam calls me Oscar the Grouch. Chuckle. That makes me laugh.
Afterwards, Sam shopped at the supermarket and I chatted to a friend about bulldogs. I told her how we'd applied to adopt an adult bulldog, which we didn't get by the way, apparently she had already found her 'forever home'.
Then we walked home in the finely spitting rain which was really quite nice.
Today it is too hot to do anything. Do you like that? First 30 degree day since winter. Er? Any excuse. Ha ha.
Nah, it takes a little acclimatising, it does. The sun is hot.
I take Otto for a walk early when it is still 24 degrees.
We walk through the dog park. A dog park buddy is sitting on the far side of the reserve in the shade of the trees, out of the sun, with his two dogs. We wave. He's a nice bloke. He is sitting there with a woman who has a curly haired dog.
There is a group of people standing in the middle of the park, I don’t know why? They look like a delegation, of some kind. Weird for the dog park. I hope they aren't property developers being surrounded by public housing.
The adolescent German Shepherd I've seen there before comes running over from the shade trees and sniffs Otto’s arse, which he doesn’t see for a minute. When he realises, it scares Mr Otto scardy pants and he races away from the big dog straight into my legs. The group of people see and laugh. The big puppy of a fully grown German Shepherd wants to play with Otto, but Otto wants none of the play with him.
The sun is getting hot.
Then it is the couch for the rest of the day. That is all I was going to accomplish.
That is all I did.
I reacquaint myself with music in my headphones while watering my plants, late in the afternoon. It's therapeutic. I forget in between how therapeutic it is. A bit of The Rolling Stones while watching the droplets of water glisten in the bright sun light sprinkling down into my plants in their pots.
End of the week, my week, and the sun shines. The weather has been glorious. Otto and I went for a walk mid afternoon. Sam wanted to go too, but he had a half hour meeting starting fifteen minutes after I wanted to go for a walk, which meant he wouldn't be ready for an hour, potentially, and we'd be back by then, so Otto and I went without him. And, you know, there is something really nice about it just being you and your dog on a gorgeous afternoon.
I've got a sore back, can it really be from sawing up the garden cuttings? I don't know, but it really is sore.
I've been pruning the large tree in my front yard. I haven't pruned it for some time, so its getting a heavy prune, 50% of it is being removed. It's, apparently, good for it, it does it good. It is a flowering tree and a heavy prune will result in a lot more flowers. They say.
So, as you can understand, there are now some large limbs that have to be chopped off, which involves a lot of sawing up of cut sections. I have cut up all of the sections I have cut down by hand. It didn't hurt to do it, but a day, or so, later, I have an incredibly painful mid point, slightly to the right of my spine, like the area I would image the muscles are in my back for my sawing arm.
Fuck! What a pussy, is all I could think.
It hurts a lot.
So, that's annoying.
I put up with it all day. Oh, the pain.
It wasn't until dinner time that I thought of taking some Ibuprofen. The drugs took the pain right away. Yay for drugs!
The thing is that I am only half way through the tree pruning. Grrr! I'm getting back to it tomorrow, I'm hoping that isn't going to make my sore back worse. I want to finish the job tomorrow, on my day off. Wish me luck. I'm guessing, I'll have to break out the Ibuprofen again tomorrow.
I went to Bunnings and bought a new pruning saw before I started. So far, I have managed to put all the cuttings in our bins to be taken away by the council. (fuck the council and our ever spiralling rates) The neighbours unfathomably putting out two empty bins for rubbish collection helped. I filled them with my cuttings too. Good for them!
My day at home on my own with Otto. Sam went into his office. Charlie left early for whatever Charlie does. He says so little, it is hard to know.
I was up early. I made coffee and signed into work at 5.30am. That is not deliberate, well, the waking up, the signing into work is deliberate though, so I can sign out again early.
I bought Nip/Tuck series 2 from the charity shop on Saturday for $2. More DVDs I will probably never watch, but what can you do? The two main actors, Julian McMahon and the other guy, are so pretty, why not. (my addiction only costs me $2 @ a time, so I don't think I need a program anytime soon, even if Sam may disagree with that) When I looked at it more closely the 5th DVD disk was from series 3. Grrr!
I noticed, when I bought it that they had a second series 2 on the shelf, so I planned to go back and ask them if I could change the last disk for the correct one. (Sam rolled his eyes and said something about the waste of time Olympics)
So, I went down there this morning, at 9.30am. I decided when I got there not to ask the person behind the counter if I could swap the disk. They are all volunteers and there is often a wide variation in what they think is procedure. It would probably be okay, but maybe not.
So, I just went in, went to the DVD shelf and swapped the disk from mine with the one on the shelf, and left without saying anything to any one.
Easy.
It was a glorious day. I took Otto for a walk early in the after noon. It was a lovely walk. I've created a new playlist of Rolling Stones B sides and bonus tracks so I listened to that.
I signed out of work at 3pm when I got back from the walk. Nobody wanted me while I was gone. Is that cheating on my work hours, nyr, maybe? I just call it multi tasking.
I love working from home. I started at 5.30am, so, by 9.30am, I'd done 4 hours work, so after that, I figure I can do what I fucken like.
After I'd signed out of work, Otto and I lay on the couch and caught up with car restorer YouTubers.
I may have fallen asleep. How's that? While my colleagues were seeing out the afternoon, I was taking a nap on the couch.
Monday, my day in the office, and you know how much I hate that. I have run out of excuses, no more injuries, no more electricians, and I just hate that too. Gotta go, and in the words of one of my all time favourite movies, it is beyond my control.
6am. I leave Home. It is still dark.
6:04am. a tram comes up Brunswick Street, lights on out of the dark.
The sky is turning the most glorious shade of silvery pale blue.
6:06am. St Vincent’s Plaza.
6:09am. Spring Street.
A cute guy with sandy brown wavy hair, a beard and glasses, square jaw, wearing a blue jacket in chinos with a significant bulge gets off. I’d like to see him get off. As Kick Gurry once said, you wanna see me masturbating like a monkey on the carpet. You got the idea, Kick.
6:13am. Swanston Street
This should be where the tradies in hiviz get on, and they do. All the blokes. Lots of blokes. Young tradies, it is like the beginning of a porn movie.
6:16am. William Street.
I try to take some photos of the sunrise in the office buildings windows, when I notice the morning light reflecting in a most pleasing way.
I walk down Collins Street. I love the early morning light. And the deserted streets. You feel like you own the place, or, at least, it is all yours, just yours, to explore if you like, no one to disturb you.
6:20am. I see people smiling getting into a black Mercedes van as they are chauffeur driven away from the Intercontinental Hotel. Remember how exciting that is when travelling, getting up early in the morning and moving onto your next destination.
6:21am. I’m in the lift
I sign in.
I make coffee
6:35am. There is the most glorious sunrise out beyond my office windows in the canyon of high rise office towers.
I put my new B sides and Bonus Tracks Rolling Stones play list on.
I open my emails. How many annoying people do you think?
7.30am. I have everything finished.
My day is done. Can I go home now? Oh really, can't I go home?
I’m still the only one in the office so far.
Keith Richards’ sings, Losing My Touch.
And slowly everyone else arrives and the morning gets going, and the solitude I was enjoying disappears. And that’s just how it goes.
It is cleaning day, of course it is, Sunday morning is always cleaning day.
Otto runs to his kennel as I vacuum, the big scardy cat.
The sun shines, it is a glorious day.
All the doors are open, the fresh air blows in. I can smell spring on the breeze, it is fresh and sweet and new.
The weather has been glorious these last few days, perfect spring weather.
I'm pruning the Hibiscus tree in the front yard, it is perfect weather for it. It is getting a long over due major cut back. I have had an over grown, shaded by the Hibiscus front yard for such a long time, which is really how I prefer it, shutting the world out, but it is time to let the sunshine in. Sunlight changes things, and it is time for a change.
Sam orders a new iPhone. We are ready to sign in on the dot of 11pm. We have three devices ready trying to make the sign in. There is some kind of a delay getting through. Only one devices manages to sign in. Sam places his order, but delivery isn't until November 4th, about which Sam is super disappointed. He was really hoping for delivery next week.
He keeps trying. He manages to place a second order, but the delivery for that one isn't until December.
He's not happy about any of it.
Everything is sold out in minutes.
What cost of living crisis?
Sam tells me about all the people who were dissatisfied with the ordering process and who experienced the delay with ordering like we did, as a kind of post mortem to buying the new phone.
OMG! The weather is soooo glorious today, absolute perfection, that even I can't just sit inside and ignore it. When I step outside, the day sparkles so beautifully that I can, actually, smell the fresh gorgeousness in the air.
I've always had green fingers, I have always had a love of plants, particularly grown in pots, that I am going to pull on my shorts and go out and give all my pot plants the maintenance they have all been lacking.
On with my headphones, off I go.
The free electricity starts at 11am, so I put the dishwasher and the washing machine on before I head out into the garden for the rest of the morning.
A few hours later. Sam made roast chicken, Halloumi cheese, cherry tomato and salad wraps for lunch. And I never made it off the couch, my tummy made me too relaxed. The sun continued to sparkle beyond the lounge room windows. Eventually, I did take Otto for a walk, of course, my daily requirement, my daily joy.
I sat on the couch for most of the morning re-writing my 2014 journal and creating June blog posts for the missing days. I like doing it, even if some people may well think it a waste of time. I don't care, if I enjoy doing it, what the hell, how can it be a waste of time? Not that any of my friends know about my blog, so as to think of it as a waste of time.
My friend Panda knows/knew about it.
Oh, I have told my boyfriends at the time, but they have never cared about it. Mark, Luke and Sam have all had exactly the same reaction, they glaze over at the very mention of it, and in a remarkably similar short time frame have practically forgotten that I even write one.
I remind Sam frequently, but he really has absolutely no interest in it. None.
There are a few friends who I could tell, who probably would be interested in it, but I don't. I think the relative secrecy, for want of a better word, allows me some much more freedom to write, than any benefit I might get from any of them knowing about it.
The problem is that it is really time consuming.
The other problem that I have realised lately, is that where I used to think that at least I wrote something every day, that, I now realise, was not the case. There are so many missing days that I could fill in, which would take me the rest of my life to complete.
And, you know, that is probably a benefit, more so than a negative, as, at least, I'll have something to do until I am dead. On the flip side, I may never write anything else again, which isn't ideal.
Anyway, I have a roof over my head, access to fresh water, and food to eat, which is more than you can say for a frightening huge portion of the world's population, and a statistic that isn't getting any better, in fact it may even be getting worse. I'm not completely sure about that statistic. I must Google it.
Late morning, I finally got off my arse and replanted my large Angel Leaf Begonia. I originally grew it inside, but it got to big and so it got relegated to the back yard, where is is safe to say it did not enjoy life. It is a problem I often face, those plants that do so well inside that they out grow the inside of the house. Several ficus, one of which Sam sold for $200. A number of palms. A begonia, or two.
Recently, I saw an old photo of how beautiful the begonia was and I decided that I have to save it and relocate it to somewhere it would start to thrive again.
I've always had aspidistras on my front veranda, which filled in the space with such little maintenance, so I decided they could be relocated to the back yard and my once beautiful begonia could take their place and hopefully be restored to its former glory. The problem was that when I moved it from the back yard to the front of the house, its roots were all poking out the bottom of the pot.
So, I finally planted the Japanese Maple I had in a big pot into the ground, not before time for it, which made its large pot available for the begonia.
It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, the sky was an unblemished blue over our heads, and Otto and I set about repotting the begonia. It came out of the pot realtively easily, so that was good. Otto charged in and out of the house behind me as I got implements and brushes and pans and pot saucers and things. Otto chewed the old fronds I cut off the plant making an absolute mess all over the place. A good time was had by both of us.
The begonia looks great in its new pot.
After that I took Otto for a walk. It was a gorgeous day.
End of the week. End of my week. Happy face. I've got to love it when Wednesday rolls around. Good job, I say. Off I go to play. Hey, hey.
It came around nice and fast, so much so that there is time for a lovely repast, time to sit at length on my arse, take the garden to task, stare into space, answer questions, if someone asked.
I had everything I had to do done by about 1.30pm, everything, all done, so, yay, for me, nobody bothered me after that.
My day essentially finished then, 1.30pm. Not bad huh. I did start at 6am, so, you know, that's how the day went.
I got everything done. It's been a quiet week. That's how we like them. That's how we like them if I am working from home, as I have other things I can do. If I am in the office, I prefer to be busy, makes the day go quicker.
Sometimes when I talk about my job, people ask me how I can be so lucky. Lucky? Fuck off, I wanna say, but the truth is, I've been lucky all my life. But then, what is the common denominator, I ask you? Me. I am. So, is it luck? Or is it me? Something about me?
Behind his hand, quietly to the side. I've always been lucky.
But then, what is it 'they' say? If you have a roof over your head and food on your table every day, and you live in peace and happiness, you are lucky.
Tuesday? What can I say about Tuesday? Nothing. What is there to say? Nyr.
It's not even interesting enough to be one of the two famously terrible days in the week, Monday, or Wednesday hump day. It is the little brown wren of days compared to the other two.
Funny how Thursdays get off lightly. The solid, straight up and down, Charming Everyman of days.
Fridays are universally loved. The Golden Boy of days.
I worked the day, no one really disturbed me. I worked the day with Otto curled at my feet like most days.
The electrician charged me almost half of what I thought he might charge me, so that cheered up my Tuesday an awful lot.
I went and did Tuesday lotto just to celebrate the 'electrical win.'
Ah, why not.
David has made a 5000 piece lego build of Notre Dame Cathedral. That's how he is spending his down time.
Today it is raining.
Some people talk about Melbourne's changeable weather as a bad thing. Where, I like it.
I had a school master who said that Melbourne had the second most changeable weather anywhere he'd lived in the world. (I don’t remember where he said the most changeable weather was)
He was the first black teacher to teach in Australian schools, and he was gay. Imaging the pressure he lived under? He was a fantastic teacher, he really was. he came from somewhere that spoke French. He taught French. But, I digress.
I love Melbourne's changeable weather. It is interesting. It is dynamic. When the weather is much hotter in summer, you know you are only two, or three, days away from a cool change, which is lovely.
Rainy Monday.
I've got the electrician coming today, so I told the office I'd be working from home. Oh, no, I never miss an opportunity to work from home. No, I didn't really need to be here. Sam is home. In fact, as he is going to cut the power for an hour, or so, I'd have been better in the office, anyway, but fuck that.
Sunday, what can I say. It was spent, as all good Sundays should be spent, doing very little. HaHa.
The weather was perfect. We took Otto to the park, which was nice, except, of course, the great weather bought the tourists to our lovely suburb. Like when you go overseas, the only problem with living in a great part of the world, are the tourists. Oh, the tourists. Still, what can you do? Move to their suburbs? I guess that is what real trendsetters would have the ability to do. Nah, not me.
The sky was an unblemished blue above our heads. The sun was radiant.
We spent the rest of the day indoors, contemplating life. Haha. I spent most of it collecting nude male images, not sure how I got onto that, but it has been all weekend. Artists shots, you understand. I'm a bit obsessed with it, to find the most artistic and beautiful shot. It's a hobby of mine, a good way to pass the day. Last year it was miniature golf.
That, and catching up on all my car restorer YouTubers. I got most of them ticked off my 'to do' list. Lovely.
I've spent days doing it, looking for interesting images. I think it is when I don't really feel any great inspiration to write myself, it is easier to obsess about someone else's creativity. Obsessing about something kind of fills the void, momentarily. It's that and Joan Armatrading at the moment, my two obsessions. I guess they’ll be short lived, well, perhaps not Joan Armatrading, I have loved her for years, she has just come to the fore of late.
We ate good food. The day slipped away like all good Sundays do, too quickly, too soon. Do you think that is why the ice cream desert was named a Sunday?
It was a gorgeous day. Sunny, with an unblemished blue sky overhead.
I sat inside and collected artistic shots of guys all morning. (can you read between those lines?) I'm not really sure, the mood just seem to take me. Oh yes, it is really such a waste of time but, you know, what else are days off for, I ask you?
We took Otto for a walk early afternoon. I called Jill, again. She, again, said she'd have to call me back. I didn't hear from her again.
I listened to a new Joan Armatrading CD I picked up.
I came back and Otto and I lay on the couch for the rest of the afternoon.
We watched YouTube until it was news time and dinner. Here, have some misery to accompany your sustenance. You know, the news does not sustain us any more.
I listened to a Cher interview and was pleased how smart she is. You know, when you listen to someone and they make you smile with the intelligent things they are saying.
I stood on my back veranda and watched the dark morning turn to light. I think it is the loveliest and most satisfying part of the day. Anything seems possible, and the world seems like a wonderful place, right at that moment, you know, just before the noise of people fucks it up.
