End of the Working Week

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!

Tuesday At Home With Otto

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 in the Office

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.

Cleaning Day

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.

New iPhone

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.

Today Is Perfection

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.

Gorgoeus, Sunny Thursday

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 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 A Day

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.

Rainy Monday

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.

Lazy, Sunny Sunday

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?

Sunny Saturday

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.

The Lovely Early Morning

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. 

Hump Day, End Of The Week

It was just a work day. It was easy. Really, no stress. I was looking for things to do in amongst the hours I spent working, finishing everything off for the month.

I collect nude photos of guys. Oh, yes, I know, how old am I? I do collect them, occasionally, something sparks my interest, an image of some sort, and it just gets me going down that track, not really sure what exactly inspires me, particularly? But occasionally I go down that path

David sends me a photo of his feet on a set of scales that say 80 kilos. He has steadily lost weight all year

Christian Fletcher

Ugly feet

David Gioncallis:

Yes yes … she cant celebrate the win 

    She has to criticise something 

    #classic 

    #predictable

Christian Fletcher

All I can see are those gnarled stumps 

Darling

David Gioncallis:

How about ! “That’s great … I’m so happy for you “ 

    Darling 

Christian Fletcher

Oh, yes, of course, blah, blah, blah

Darling

Pat, pat

Home Alone Getting Asked Difficult Questions

It was Sam's day in the office.

Charlie left the house early.

Matt left not long after Charlie.

So, it was just me and Otto all day. He slept on the couch next to me in the study.

I worked steadily all day.

I quite like being home on my own, I find it very satisfying. The silence, it is comforting in a strange kind of way.

Of course I went to the bakery and got a muffin mid morning.

I ate smoked salmon on English Muffins for lunch. So, Otto wasn't my only English muffin for the day.

3pm. I thought fuck work, and I took Otto for a walk. It's nice walking my dog, just me and him.

Jill and I have been playing phone tag for weeks, so I give her a call, but no answer. She keeps calling me when I don't want to talk, clearly I am doing the same thing.

David called and asked, "if licking my arse was the only way to save my life, would you do it?"

No. You'd die.

You wouldn't even consider it.

No.

Well, I see.

Why are you thinking this?

Oh, you know, some days I just get to thinking about things.

You have too much time on your hands, my friend.

Quite possibly.

We both laughed.

Monday In The Office

Er, BooHoo it's my day in the office. Yes, it is that time again. Oh, this day is such a disappointment compared to all my other work days.

I leave early, always.

There are so many blokes in hiviz now a days in the mornings. It’s like the beginning of gay porn when I head into the city early.

Let’s hope the day goes fast.

There is no milk in the fridge. This never happened before cute James left.

The Big Poo is in. He’s just got a new puppy.

People arrive intermittently.

OMG! The yappy American Asian chick arrives and the silence is broken, with her constant, semi hysterical, look at me, performative yap. Oh, shut the fuck up! She doesn’t stop talking loudly for a good solid, non-stop 10 minutes after arriving.

I’m wondering if I can even put up with her today.

9am. I kind of have everything done and start to wonder why I’m not at home?

I’ve got pains in my stomach like my body is smarter than I am.

Boris arrived at 9:15am.

David messages me early to ask if it is a public holiday day in Melbourne.

My Shopping Journal

 

11am. We clean, of course we do, it is Sunday and Sunday, as we know, is cleaning day. I’m ambivalent, to tell you the truth, but a happy boyfriend is something.

I get changed ready to head out. 

I turn off the fan, which our house guest Matt has a habit of putting on, I’m never really sure what the fan obsession is with some of the visitors we have up in the Princess Tower. He isn’t the first to run the fan all the time. It is a ducted system down to our bathroom and there is a constant drone of it being on. They seem to think it is some kind of ducted air, where it is just an exhaust fan for the shower.

The dumb because they are young. If they are full of too much cum, it drowns their brain function.

11:38am. We walk Otto to The Hive shopping centre. It’s overcast and grey, with no son, (I love my gay dictation) er, sun shining, it’s jumpers against the breeze

The sun is warm when it comes out, but it doesn’t very often come out.

11:58am. As we walk down in front of the shops in Victoria Street crossing over Charles Street, the son is attempting to come out with varying degrees of success. We wish the son every success with his coming out, of course, but it is the sun which is shining intermittently.

Midday. The big advertising posters have peeled off the wall in little Charles Street, when I glance up, as we walk past, like great sheets of material cascading to the ground. I’m guessing it was all the rain? All the large posters, in its current state it looks like some kind of modern outdoor art installation.

Someone had eaten pineapple on the front seating area on the front wall of The Hive and left the peel lying there gradually turning brown for everyone else to enjoy. The yellow is blending into the brown in a really fascinating way.

12:01pm. Otto and I are sitting in the entrance to The Hive, on those black titles, on which we both sit. On the black tiles cooling down after our walk. On those black tiles as if they are there on which for us the be mounted, man and dog. Everything is about art this morning.

The homeless are represented as is often the case in Abbotsford. The great Abbotsford homelessness, like the world’s great unwashed. I guess if you wanna put a positive spin on it, the residents of Abbotsford are quite accepting, and quite possibly chilled out. One guy wanders aimlessly in the middle of the traffic, seemingly lost. He’s big and solid like you wouldn’t want to mess with him. I guess it is loneliness at the bottom of it, their troubles. Why are people lonely when there are so many of us on this planet?

There are a couple of street chicks yapping on loudly just out of sight, around the corner. Yay. You see, my usual tolerance is holding up. Ha ha. And if you believe that…

There is the smell of cigarette smoke in the air, which I don’t really mind, surprisingly being an ex-smoker. Usually, we’re supposed to hate the smell once we have quit.

12:03pm. A super cool father dressed in a black t-shirt and black jeans, with sunglasses on, enters The Hive with his two young sons.

12:07pm. A couple of Muslim mums with two cute kids, pull up with their pusher. The adorable boy in a hoodie, is giving it attitude like he will be able to do what he wants in life. The girl children are in a head scarves, like they are restrained by them. I think it is stupid, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. They can do as they like, strap turkeys to their heads if they think the divine will smile favourably upon them, what I think doesn’t matter.

12:11pm. The two street chicks regroup after momentarily going their separate ways. They were yelling at each other when they were at opposite ends of the street, like no one existed, seemingly talking about some guy who’d been screwing both of them thinking that one didn’t know about the other, and what they were going to do to his balls, essentially detach him from them. But now they are standing together they are quiet.

12:13pm. The Muslim family moves off. Not sure if the castration talk facilitated their leaving.

12:14pm. Sam reappears questions the wisdom of going and sitting outside Minh Phat with more homeless guys sitting side by side outside, and he advises us to stay in the doorway of The Hive, while he goes over.

A dog barks somewhere in the distance. Otto doesn’t react.

There’s even more cigarette smoke in the air, I check with the street chicks, there is now only one, and I can’t see a cigarette in her hand

12:21pm. Sam reappears. We head off down Victoria Street.

Sam laments the butcher being closed as we walked down Victoria Street to the pork roll shop.

“It’s Sunday, we usually come on Saturday.”

“Is the butcher always closed on a Sunday?”

“Look, the fish shop and the fruit and veg shop are closed too.”

“Are they always closed on a Sunday?”

“I think they are.”

“Who knew,” says Sam.

We both laugh.

A woman stops in front of us, bending and placing her hands on her knees. “And hello there, who are you?” she says to Otto.

We keep walking. Otto is not one for strangers patting him. I don’t look back.

12:23pm. We’re at the pork roll shop. I stand in the sun as Sam gets the pork rolls.

Too dark headed guys in jeans and black tops walk up, one of them has got a very nice arse, ah, something to look at while I wait. Truthfully, they look like undercover cops out of a 70s police show. I can’t help but picture him in his undies, at which point he looks at me and winks. I look away, feeling like he’d caught me out. I laugh to myself.

12:29pm. Sam reappears with the pork rolls. 

We start walking home. The sun comes out nice and warm. And you know we all like a warm sun

We walk home along Nicholson Street and then we walk up Langridge Street. The son is nice, nice and warm. And you know we love a warm son. There’s a breeze blowing.

12:39pm. We’re at the lights on Hoddle Street. There are a lot of cars around, the usual number, the high petrol prices don’t seem to be having any effect on people driving. So much for the cost of living crisis.

You know, the statistics show that the vast majority of mortgage holders have not re-negotiated their mortgages, instead opting to pay the nigher amounts into their loans.

I see so many new number plates on cars on the road. Apparently, Australians are buying electric cars in record numbers.

Do you think the cost of living crisis has been fabricated by news companies desperate to fill the 24 hours news cycle with content?

12:40pm. The light starts to change in our favour, but not completely, they still get the green light on the far side heading north.

I’m itching to get going, the shopping bags are getting heavy.

I’ve got the heavy bags one slug over each shoulder while Sam gets Otto, carrying only one bag. I suspect it’s a con. I laugh to myself, if it is a con, you have been well conned.

Sam and I talk about Davids big birthday next year in Switzerland and how neither of us really want to go. I start to feel sick in the stomach when I think for the first time maybe I need to tell him.

I am loving the warm sun on my face though.

12:46pm. The Langridge Street Hill up from Wellington Street is a bit much, loaded up like a pack horse, to quote that television sage, doctor Smith, Oh the pain. Once we are on it, the hill seems never ending, but the prize at the top is the exquisite Home sweet Home.

12:55pm. We’re home

We eat our pork rolls.

I watch YouTube.

I watch the hot boys from Daily Drive Death Traps and their silver blue 1965 Barracuda.

2.30pm. I make a banana cake. There are bananas to rip to eat in the fruit bowl.

2.50pm. It is in the oven.

I watched more YouTube, falling asleep on the couch with my laptop on my lap.

6pm. Sam woke me up with winter melon soup for dinner and the news.

We watched Celebrity Traitors.

Matt came home at 10pm. He’s been at some S&M dungeon catching up with a friend. I didn’t ask if he sampled the S or the M?

I went and had a shower in preparation for the office tomorrow. Er, the office tomorrow.

10.40pm. We go to bed.

Rain, Rain

We thought yesterday was miserable, well then today was just a wash out. It seemed like it was never going to stop raining, and it didn't for most of the day.

I sat on the couch with a blanket, my laptop and Otto for most of the day.

We finally managed to take Otto for a walk late in the afternoon when the rain stopped falling for a a short time.

We ordered pizza for dinner, rather than cooking, it was that kind of day. I went and picked them up. When the girl checked with me what pizzas I ordered, as she handed them to me, I didn't hear what she said and just said yes.

"Amazing," was her reply.

I couldn't help but think not one aspect of our interaction was, actually, amazing.

Rain

What a miserable fucking day. It hasn't stopped raining. That kind of annoying, try-hard, weather girl Cherri-Lea Whatever did say it is going to rain for 3 days. I guess she was right.

Sam goes to the supermarket to get food for Otto. I guess I could have gone for him since he has to work today, but I didn't think of it until he'd left. Oh well, next time.

I sat on the couch and wrote.

Mid morning, as the rain continued to fall, I lit a fire.

Rainy Thursday

It rained today, really heavy rain in the afternoon. We got half of our month of October's normal rain fall on the first day of the month.

Sam was in the office all day.

I wrote all day. Lovely.

Otto and I went for a walk just before lunch time, as the rain was forecast for an hour's time after we left. I'm still on my Joan Armatrading kick so I listened to her on my headphones.

I've also been listening to U2s Songs of Experience, in preparation for their new album. I like it.

I got a turkey and brie cheese and salad roll and a chocolate and banana muffin for lunch just after we came home from our walk.

Then, that was done, the only thing I really had to do today. That was probably fortunate as only a couple of hours later the rain start and it did stop for hours after that.

I also watched Charlie is My Darling, Rolling Stones doco from 1965. It is interesting as a historical document. Kind of like watching an old black and white movie.

Otto Is A Clever Boy

I slept alone with Otto, while Sam slept in the other room fitted out with his Sleep Apnoea apparatus.

Otto usually sleeps snuggled up to Sam at night, but he did sleep kind of against me, when it was just him and me.

I woke at 3am and had a piss, and Otto was lying long ways out against me.

I woke again at 5.15am and I reached out for him, but he wasn't there.

Then I heard, "Growl. Growl. Growl. Growl. Growl. Growl."

I looked up and he was sitting by the bedroom door staring at me.

"Growl. Growl. Growl. Growl. Growl. Growl."

Oh, okay, sure. I got up and put my dressing gown on and as soon as I opened the bedroom door, Otto ran downstairs and straight to the back door, with me in pursuit.

He ran up the back of the garden and had a huge diarrhoea attack.

It was even warm outside in my dressing gown at that time of the morning. Nice. Summery.

Clever boy, I thought.

I think bulldogs are smart, even if on the smartest dogs list they don't come up at the top.

Sam went to the office early, delivering his monitoring equipment back to the hospital on his way.

Charlie left quite early, going off to do whatever it is that he does. I think he has got another restaurant kitchen job.

Otto and I settled in to work for the day. I had everything I needed to do pretty much done by 10am, so I got to re-write my blogs for the rest of the day. Lovely. Otto is on the couch next to me in the study snoring.

Sam's Sleep Apnoea

Sam, I believe, has always suffered from Sleep Apnoea. I kept telling him that some nights I'd lie there and wait for him to start breathing again, I mean, on the rare nights that I was awake. We both fall asleep really easily, both of us within 5 minutes of going to bed. But on those rare nights that I was awake, I'd listen to his terrible breathing.

I don't know if Sam would refute this, but how I see it is, he started wearing his Apple watch to bed and when it told him he had Sleep Apnoea, he then consulted doctors.

Today was the day that he went to hospital and got fitting out with what looked like the Flux Capacitor to be tested over night.

He elected to do the test at home, so he had to go to the hospital and get fitted out. Then he had to walk home looking like RoboMan.

Otto was his normal excited self to see Sam home, but he could easily have ripped one of the wires, or tubes, off Sam in his excitement, so Sam had to be careful with that. He ended up putting a big jumper over the whole thing.

Anyway, its good, he'll get the answers he needs and can have the treatment that is appropriate.

Well, That Is Awkward

I was going to say to Boris today that I was feeling sick and that I'd be working from home.

Sam said, "Just take the day off and stop pissing around."

"I don't mind working, I just don't want to go into the office."

"You have all that accrued sick leave, just use it," said Sam.

So, I went to bed wondering what I would do today.

I got up this morning at 5.30am. I made coffee. Then it occurred to me, if I signed into work now, which is when I usually sign in, by the time Boris gets to the office, normally by 9.15am, I could have all of the immediate work done, kind of a compromise, of sorts, so that is what I decided.

I'd work until 9am, then I take the rest of the day sick. So I did.

9am. I text Boris. I'm not feeling well, so I am taking the rest of the day off sick. I think everything is done.

Boris messaged me back. I'm not well too.

Well, that is awkward, I thought. I didn't expect that. (I have a vague feeling that Boris isn't happy with her job)

Okay. Well, no problem. I can stay signed in and check emails from time to time. 

Thank you Christian. I can monitor emails too.

So, that is what we did.

The Midget is away for a couple of weeks, so noo ne really need to know about our double day off. The Big Poo is back from his time off.

 

Sunday

Today couldn't be any different to yesterday if it tried. It is sunny and warm and looks lovely out there, looking out my rear French Doors, even if I haven't, actually, been out in it myself.

We're off to get haircuts, walk Otto into town, get some lunch afterwards. Enjoy the sunshine. Get all tidied up for tomorrow, and the rest of our lives, ha ha.

Our mate Matt is coming to stay for a short time. Actually, the time frame hasn't been specified, which is never a good thing. I have learnt that the hard way with friends, in the past. Still...

It is a lovely day, why do I care to get bogged down in details.

Of course, first of all, before we do anything, it is cleaning day. You know how Sam is a stickler for cleaning day on Sunday morning. Me? Personally, shrug, I couldn't care less. Clean house, dirty house, it is all the same house to me.

I've resurrected my big begonia, which got too big for the house, not that I thought it was too big, I'm happy to push through a jungle to get to the kitchen, but the consensus of the house was that it was too big. It has deteriorated outside, so I have now found a new position for it, on our front veranda. I just have to go to Bunnings and get a new pot in which to repot it.

Rainy Saturday

It rained pretty much from the moment I got up. It was constant, fine, drizzling rain all day.

Consequently, it wasn't a day to do anything much. Not much. Nah.

Sam had booked us in for eye tests at midday down at Victoria Gardens, and, you know, I wasn't really feeling it, I can tell you. 

On a miserable day like today, the best place for us is on the couch with a tartan blanket catching up on all the latest releases from YouTube, drinking mugs of hot chocolate, I'd further suggest.

I suggested cancelling and re-booking for a sunny day when it would be much nicer to head outside, which was met with a curious look from my better half. "Eye tests are an in door pursuit," he said.

Yes, well, what could I say, he was right.

So rain hats on, me luvs, we'll be heading out to battle the elements in the name of good health.

The rain looks set in, so I am assuming we'll be scurrying to the optometrist and then scurrying home again.

I can't see much else getting done.

I'm on my second last pair of runners, as my newest runners started to leak in the rain because the toe was worn through. Now it seems my second last pair of runners is now leaking too. I'll have to revert back to an older pair, I don't know how many pairs ago, so my feet stay nice and dry. Alternatively, I could go and buy a new pair. Duh!

We caught the tram. I like catching the tram, I think it’s a good way to really feel a part of your suburb.

I changed my optometrist appointment to 1.30pm, at the tram stop, as we were a bit late getting to the Pho shop for Pho for lunch, but as it turned out, we still got to the optometrist by the original appointment time. I tried to claim my original appointment time, you know, as it hadn’t been long by then, but I had to wait half an hour for them to fit me in.

A friend of mine tells me that when she wants to cheer herself up, she goes and gets new glasses, or a new phone, two things I hate doing. I hate choosing new glasses.

We both got new glasses. Sam had already had the eye test, he just needed to pick the glasses. We pick them up in a week.

Parents Are Crap At Parenting

I sent a photo of an old man nudist to David, which I have sent him many times before, as it is funny because it bears an uncanny resemblance to what David would probably look like as an old man.

I would even argue that it is barely a nude photo, but the system classified it as a nude photo and I was asked series of questions before my normal text messaging would send it.

WTF is this all about?

I was so distracted by this new over reach of guard rails that I accidentally picked the wrong answer to the question and the system remove my image from my text message altogether.

What the fuck, I thought.

This is what happens when you effectively allow parents to opt out of parenting by legislating for kids level protections, we all are made to be inconvenienced by parents lack of parenting.

If you want to protect children, get parents to do their jobs and monitor what their kids do. 

Don't legislate Big Brother style where we all get effected by the legislation. As an adult, I should be able to judge for myself what I see, and what I don't see, without a computer system questioning me.

Let's put looking after children back into the hands of parents to monitor what their kids see, and don't see, and leave the rest of us out of it.

I haven't looked at porn online since the whole age verification stuff has become a reality. I haven't wanted to hand over any more of my information to anyone online, not since I have been involved in the 4th major data breach.

I don't want to give any more of my information to people online, since companies clearly don't give a shit about keeping it safe. 

It isn't good enough.

We're being fucked over by people with kids. I see friends giving their babies and toddlers their phones and iPads to shut their kids up, and then, apparently, all through the child rearing stage, I can only assume, parents are too god damn lazy to monitor what their little brats are doing online.

And then we all get to pay for parents ineptitude, by having to jump through hoops, give companies data, that they look after about as well as parents monitor their kids online.

Here's a suggestion parents of today, if you are too god damn lazy to look after your kids, don't have them.

You know what else, with all these teenagers who are committing crimes and apparently terrorising Melbourne, we should start charging the parents with the crimes their kids are continually committing, because the parents are responsible for these brats until they are 18 anyway. I wouldn't normally say such a thing, but according to conservative commentators we are in the middle of an emergency.

Sunny Thursday

My electrician who was supposed to come today to do a major re-wire of my fusebox, but didn't turn up. I didn't even hear from him. I could have called, but, you know, it isn't urgent, I keep my $2000 for now, so what the hell. Sam didn't, exactly, agree with that. He's much more 'get onto it' than I am.

"He'll turn up eventually, so what's the drama," I said.

I continued to re-write my 2014 blog posts, just because I am enjoying doing it. It is interesting to see them come together. There were lots of missing days, so I re-wrote my journals posts from then and posted them. (some of those original journal posts were so inadequate, I find, with some of them, I am just making shit up, but I have always said, this is all loosely based on the truth. I mean everything, at least, has a kernel of truth to it, but some days the embellishments, at least, equal the truth) It's interesting what I remember when I start though.

Is it the waste of time olympics? Some people might say it it, but I enjoy doing, so how can it be a waste of time?

I've had a fascination with Joan Armatrading these last few days, so I listened to her while I wrote.

I threw Otto his ball for him while I wrote and listened to music. He never gives up on ball throwing, never. He is relentless with it, he would probably die doing it, given the chance. He is really a lovely boy.

Otto and I went for a walk after lunch, it was a gorgous sunny day, early afternoon.

I always find days with perfect weather to be really relaxing. Satisfying, even.

Essentially, it turned out to be a lazy day on the couch as the sun shone outside, just the sorts of day I like. You know, the thing I do best.