I watched The Empty Canvas. Otto and I lay on the couch together.
Brun heads upstairs straight after Sam heading upstairs to start work.
I thought about going to the gym, I truly did.
The sun is shining outside, it is a gorgeous day.
I must do something other than sitting on my arse all day. I must.
Tra la.
Then my favouirte, handsome, South African car YouTuber posted and that's me accounted for until lunch.
It's my ex's birthday, Happy Birthday Lauri.
I got my converted VHS Bette Davis movie back. Horst Buchholz is magnificent and I have been fascinated with Bette Davis ever since I saw Whatever Happened To Baby Jane as an 8 year old.
I had to drive out to the northern suburbs, which I kind of know. $30 later and I am kind of disappointed with the result, although watchable, it is pretty poor.
Now, I wonder, if this is just this conversion, or is this as good as I can hope? I don't know?
Could someone do a better job of it? I wonder?
Old black and white movies really have to be good prints/versions for all that contrasting light and shadows to shine.
I might ask someone else if they can do a better job of it. There is a classic movie shop in the city, I might ask them. One day. No hurry.
The empty canvas is the only one I can truly put my name to.
Now, I have to find and English language version of The Scientific Card Player. The other Italian movie Bette Davis made.
The rest of the day, I lay on the couch watching car reno shows on YouTube. Day off, why not.
I fell asleep in the afternoon. You have to love that. The sun shone outside, the day went on regardless.
I didn't go to the gym, much to Sam's chagrin. I must go to the gym. I must go tomorrow.
Boris is away sick.
It's been a busy day.
3pm. Fuck it, I'm knocking off to walk the dogs. I need to get away from work and get some intelligent conversation.
Just as I say that, I get emails from Fish Face and The Ponytail, at once. Jasus! I might need therapy after that.
Fish Face asked me for a breakdown of some figures. So, I sent her the breakdown of the required figures. She replied to my emial, still with my spreadsheet attached and said, You know what, I need a breadown of those figures. Dumb as a box of rocks. Shake of the head.
The Ponytail starts her email with, May you provide me with this information. A very senior staff member uses bad grammar, oblivious. May I? I choose the may not option. If anything, it makes me laugh.
Anyway, life is too short. It is just a curious time of year.
I'm out of here, it is a gorgeous day outside, just lovely, now I'm off to enjoy it.
It's a shit fight this time of the year. We do pay rises and promotions March 01st.
Of course, idiot me is involved in all the finances around the pay rises. It is that time of the year when I have to get up close and personal to HR, smelling their putrid breath and seeing the blood shot hue of their eyes.
Ha ha, I do all my work by email so as to avoid that very situation.
HR are popping their plugs all over the place, including Fat Tony, trying to get their incompetent work skills to produce results. Actually, Fat Tony is bailing, he's gone in a week. I'm guessing nobody will notice him gone.
That takes us back to an all female HR dept, and that's when they get really hard to deal with.
Yay. Looking forward to it.
Oh, yes, Monday in the office. I got up at 5am. I got into the office at 6.30am. A couple of coffees to get going. Then I was undisturbed for 2 hours. Lovely.
Oh, yes, everyone was pleased to see me. Yay.
"I feel like I haven't seen your smiling face for ages," said the Big Poo.
Oh, yes, whatever.
I left at 3pm.
It was really hot outside. 38 degrees. I guess, that is one advantage about being in the office, air con environment. Otherwise, it is just like they make me spend all that time travelling to get there and then I do exactly what I could be doing at home.
Grrrr.
Climate scientists say we may have reached a tipping point with the environment, from which there is no return. That didn't even make the news. Scientists warning us about imminent, uncontrolled danger, and, essentially, nobody listened.
We may be at the point of no return, and we effectively said, collectively, "Nyr."
When did we stop listening to scientists?
Can you imagine the shit show that is coming for us?
I'm not talking about the potential end of the human race, that possibly anyone born today is going to be firsthand witness to, although that is a thing all to itself.
No, I am talking about what is coming before that, when the people of the planet scramble to try and save their miserable selves from the immanent demise.
Can you imagine, after 40 years of inaction through greed and idiocy, and I'n not really sure why, how we're all going to lose every single right we've ever had, in the futile, last attempt, to save ourselves.
Can you imagine what that is going to be like? We will probably destroy ourselves in that period, before the poisonous end comes for us, anyway.
Those of us who are middle-aged, (do you know how much I hate saying that) we'll probably get through, but the young ones, they are fucked, as far as I can see.
The 20 somethings need to rise up and rebel against the govts of the world, and demand a better deal, otherwise their lives eventually will most likely be a misery.
Anyway, it's a beautiful day today, so, I guess living in the moment is what we have now, just enjoy the time we have left, older people, and younger people, good luck, you will probably need it.
Dodgy Angus was made leader of the opposition conservatives, the Liberal Party, on Thursday. The progressive side of politics, the Labor Party, and the party currently in power, must be happy with that, as Angus is widely considered by many to be a twat.
Malcolm Turnbull, former Liberal Party Prime Minister, labelled the new Opposition Leader as the ‘best qualified idiot’, referring to all the tertiary qualifications Angus has, for someone who has continually underdelivered in politics.
Jane Hume was promoted to deputy leader of the Liberal Party, after being dumped from shadow cabinet by Sussan Ley, the previous, and just dumped leader, after a number of gaffs that Jane made. She sniped at Sussan Lee from the back bench really through bitterness and revenge, you know, which really speaks volumes about the character of Jane Hume.
The problem with Sussan ley was she was too soft, too princess presented in a cream pants suit.
The Liberals are in disarray, if an election was held today, they would be wiped off the political landscape.
Go on Albo, call an election.
I lay on the couch all day with my laptop, pretty much what I did all day yesterday.
Sam came down from upstairs at one stage and asked, "What happened to the gym?"
"I'm sure nothing has happened to the gym," I reply. "I'm sure it's where it's always been."
I was disappointed to not have won lotto, so I could send my eagerly anticipated resignation letter to Boris this morning.
I read about the guy who won the 80 million dollars. A south western suburbs retiree, who plans a trip to Italy. Oh yes, very nice, I thought when I read that.
I don't really want 80 million dollars, just a few million would suit me. Let's say 5 to 10 million. You know just enough to do the things you want, any more and I'm sure you'd just get silly with it. Any more and I am pretty sure it would have a detrimental affect on your life. We can't help it, we're stupid human beings.
I fell asleep on the couch for the afternoon, with Sam waking me late afternoon to take the dogs for a walk.
Thinking about it, the last shower I had was Tuesday morning. Is that bad? That's what happens when you are slothing around the house. Best I go and have one.
The climate change denying, renewables denouncing, net zero dumping, coal enthusing, nuclear power promising, anti women, immigrant denouncing, god fearing, sexist gaggle of 1950s throw backs, are back in charge of the opposition conservative party. God help them, ha, ha, just as they would say, because they seem to be doubling down on the policies they took to the last election, the election where they were nearly wiped out politically.
Would you name your daughter Maddison?
We seem to have a rash of them at work lately. Lots of Maddisons, itmust have been a popular name for kids 20 years ago.
Don't you think it sounds like a stripper's name?
Maddison Monroe performing here tonight. Come watch what she does with cumquats!
It just feels like you'd be relegating her to a life where she'd have her snatch out for money for drunk men late into the night.
If she ever rose above the corus line of chick's who take their clothes off for money and got her own place, she could call it Maddison's Minge
What's the boy equivalent? Mitchell, I guess. Maddison and Mitchell could do a double act, Mitchell and Maddison Do Melbourne, oh, but, I guess, that's no longer stripping.
But, let's not be squeamish, Mitchell and Maddison are good sorts. That's why people pay to see them take their clothes off.
"See Mitchell help Maddison with her cumquats, without using his hands."
I've been home on my own the last few days, Sam's had to go to his office, and I've been listening to Renee Geyer, my queen of soul.
I have been listening to her records oldest to newest. They are just the perfect collection of songs.
You can listen to any of her music, from any era and it still sounds current.
I chuckle to myself, from what I know of Aretha Franklin, who was one of the greatest singers of all time, but from many accounts, a bit of a cunt, she'd be turning in her grave hearing someone else being called Queen of Soul, but Renee was, she earned it. That's all.
Aretha Franklin was Renee's music god.
I've been home on my own working away, and Renee has been singing for me. She really is perfection.
I'm defying (ha ha, do you like that? I feel like a 17 year old) Boris today. She told me she wanted me to work in the office today, but I'm not going.
Sam has to spend two days in his office, unusual for him, so I am working from home to look after the woofs.
I was going to tell Boris that I will work in the office on Wednesday - they just want me to work one of my days in the office - and I may still do that, but I've decided, initially, I'm just going to say I am working at home today.
I'm torn about this return to the office bullshit, even if it is only for one day a week. I feel like I am being a pussy and just caving in to it.
I've tried to tell them I want to work permanently from home, but they don't really listen, certainly Boris doesn't.
Anyway, we'll see.
What can they do? Sack me. (cross your fingers) Okay, go on then, at least it would make my mind up about resigning.
Oh, I can't decide about resigning? I don't know if I am being stupid, or not. Sam tells me not to resign, and that I am being stupid.
"It's one day a week," he says.
But, you know, twice I have spent too long in jobs that made me unhappy, so...
I know one thing, never threaten to resign. Either do it, or continue to state your case for what you want, or why you are unhappy.
It was the gay street party near us today. It was hot. We walked up and down for a bit.
Dykes smoking their cigarettes backwards, drag queens getting in the way trying to be fabulous, fags with dogs, people with cameras with those striking a pose, boys in shorts, girl’s with their tits out, guys with muscles, tall, fat, thin, short, the criminally ugly and the genetically blessed.
I don't know, unless, you are young, and want to get out of it on drugs and dance, and fuck everyone, nyr, it's all a bit, been there done that, many times.
I took my VHS tape out to the northern suburbs to get converted to someone who'd I'd assumed was a 20 something asian kid living with his parents, who turned out to be a middle aged dyke with dogs and a dyke attitude.
So, there you go.
Spent most of the rest of the day on the couch out of the heat.
What to do today? We decide to go to Sandridge Beach. Once the decision is made, we are free to piss the rest of the morning away. Well, we’re going to do stuff, we have made the decision.
12:30pm. We’re in Clarendon Street.
Our usual South Melbourne eating hole is busy with a bunch of braying self focuses, commandeering the tables, even if it might have been questionable that they were even sitting to eat. There seems to be some group that has mindlessly descended en mass. They all have on wrist bands. They have the delusional self confidence, and entitlement, of a Christian Group. We pretty much decide that’s what they are.
We walk around the corner and eat dumplings in Clarendon Street, which was much nicer anyway. Dappled shade rather than direct sun.
South Melbourne seemingly has its share of men in shorts with nice legs. Oh, sure, I’m a sucker for a nice set of legs.
1pm. We’re heading to the beach.
It was lovely on the beach, perhaps not quite warm enough to swim, even though I wanted to.
We splashed around in the shallows and a lovely time was had by all, on shell beach, which is Sandridge.
Our SPF sunscreen is past its use by date, but I figure that will just take it from a SPF 50, to a SPF 45, perhaps.
(Later, I would read LeTan Watermelon was one of the sun tan lotions that never contain sunscreen at a SPF 50 level, as claimed, so it was, in fact, probably, next to useless, on the beach today)
It goes well on the beach, until Brun decides he wants to chase another dog’s stick. So, I go to retrieve Brun and Otto follows. This chick’s labrador doesn’t like Brun, and then Otto, trying to get the stick and it gets nasty. The Labrador’s owner acts like it is our fault. I don’t know, maybe it was, but I still say it was her Labrador that got nasty first.
The bulldogs go on their leads to avoid any further confrontation.
I am contemplating swimming, but I have to say all these shark bites just lately way heavily on my mind.
The chick with the labrador leaves so we let the bulldogs off their leads again.
The bulldogs splash around again together. Otto seems to want to roll in the shallow water, which is kind of new for him.
Another bunch of slappers start throwing a ball to a German Shepard nearby. Then another guy starts throwing a ball to a Border Collie nearby in the other direction, so we decide to leave.
Sam washes the bulldogs under the outdoor shower things provided, which they hate.
We go for a walk down to the surf living club and beyond, to dry the dogs before we get in the car.
3:30pm. We’re home.
I tried doing stuff on my blog, but I got sleepy. You know when you get that wobbly, sleepy thing happening, when you continually close your eyes for a micro second, well, that was me. Why fight it, I suddenly thought.
I put on Renee Geyer, the end of Winner, on in my headphones. I've been listening to a lot of Renee Geyer, lately, she is my Queen of Soul.
I fell asleep and slept until 7pm.
We ate leftover Japanese pancake for dinner.
I message David with an image of Doctor Smith with a question mark. We’d talked about, The pain, the pain, yesterday.
He has some pain thing, Fibromyalgia, that flares up from time to time. (No, I wouldn’t call it a look-at-me condition) He had it yesterday.
He replied with, the drugs are lovely.
Should I resign from my job? Wasn't there the Great Resignation? Yes, well, okay so I'm a few years late for that.
Boris said to me that I should spend every Monday in the office, and I don't want to. After working from home, and experiencing how good that is, going into the office is going to make me unhappy?
Sam, essentially, tells me I am being indulgent. (Yeah, thanks for the support)
Shouldn't I choose happiness in this life which is astonishingly short, after all?
It was a glorious morning. I took the dogs for a walk early.
The sun shone, there was a lovely breeze.
I was listening to Marvin Gaye, the morning couldn't have been cooler.
I was walking down Brunswick Street, nonchalantly, listening to my music, when this sexy bike rider in tight black shorts, with great legs, was messing around with his panniers on the ground. I took two, maybe three more steps, after this photo was taken – I was taking photos of my dogs, so I had the camera ready to go in my hand – and he bend right over in front of me, just as I walked up behind him, just like that. I could easily have just reached out and grabbed him by the hips.
Oh, could you imagine?
“Ah?”
“Ah!”
Pffffff, it made me think, wild thoughts. He was a good sort. I felt a sly smile appear across my face.
He had no idea what had just happened. No, not a clue.
He got on his bike and rode away.
I kept walking.
Well, that's all folks, for another week. It's the end of my time. It's my day off tomorrow, starting tomorrow. Yay! Ha, ha. I always feel relaxed right about now. Calm. Centred. Joyous. Entering into a new era, on a weekly basis. Escape. Transitioning. Throwing it all off, and not looking back. At peace. It all just kind of washes over me some time after 3.
It was just a Tuesday, what can I say. It was hotter than I expected it to be.
I worked until later than I thought I would, 4'ish.
I listened to soul singer Regina Belle for most of the day. Good singer.
Boris asked a couple of questions during the day which really made me wonder if she is, actually, keeping up?
Otto lay on the couch in the study all day next to me, snoring gently. I wanted to sleep too.
What could. I say?
Quixotic.
Accismus.
Petrichor.
Defenestration.
Tittynope?
But none of those would have helped, no. I had to keep working until the afternoon got long and, as it turned out, the hottest part of the day, then I could sleep.
Although, I didn't. I just changed computers and kept going. Well, not exactly going in the same vein, you understand, but still staring at a screen, none the less, although now lying on my back on the couch.
I re-read the news. Oh, you know, car crashes being what they are?
Nicki Minaj can say whatever she likes about the joke Trevor Noah told about Donald Trump commenting on her big arse, the entire Grammy audience cheered when Trevor Noah said she wasn't attending the Grammy's that night
Then I watched the sexy guys dancing half naked on Facebook, more often than not, their tossles jiggling about noticeably in their shorts.
I checked if the guy had responded to me saying that I wanted to engage him to convert my $100 VHS tape, but he hadn't. He still hasn't.
Brun licks my leg as I type. I like that more than I expected. 😀
I’m in the office.
I was first in 6.30'ish. First up I play Freddie singing I’m Going Slightly Mad, it seemed wholly appropriate.
I make several coffees.
I get stuck into work while the office is quiet.
I’m listening to Richard Clapton, the perfect music for being in the office.
The Big Poo comes in 7.45'ish, he asks how are his favourite dogs?
There is a new'ish Stores guy who has such a Smithton Grammar guy look about him - Rich Phillips and his cute look-a-like little brother Gabe, Russ Armstrong, Nathaniel Miller, and his 3 look-a-like big brothers, Anthony BeeGee, he also has 3 look-a-like big brothers - that I am so attracted to him. He’s really friendly too, he alway smiles so sweetly at me, and says hello, it really gets my attention.
Big exhale. The things I imagine doing to him... bent over his Stores desk. (did I say that out loud?)
HR has taken to starting all their emails with, I hope you’re well. I just want to tell them to fuck off, but that is hardly surprising, I guess.
I ate 4 chocolate chip cookies and felt sick afterwards. Stupid me.
I pissed off at 3pm. Boris says, "I'll see you next Monday?"As a question/request.
I so wanted to reply, "Oh, fuck off, will you."
Pinch, Punch first of the month.
It’s a slow morning, kind of cold and overcast and uninviting. We sit around and wonder what we’re gonna do for the day, and all options seem un appealing.
But, of course, it’s Sunday, so we clean the house, because everybody knows that Sunday is cleaning day.
Then once that’s done, Sam says do you fancy getting a haircut. I had made some comment in the last day, or so, about my hair getting long. Sam said he wasn’t that pleased with his last haircut and he felt that the bad style hadn’t even lasted so he was keen to get his haircut.
Then we wait to kind of late morning because then we can get our haircut and then eat lunch in the city before we come home, two birds one fucking stone.
Late morning, we walked the Bulldogs into the city.
Whinny pants Sam is unhappy with the way I open the front gate, nearly letting Otto out without his lead on.
Seriously, I say to him.
He looks at me.
The son has come out by then, (oh, I love my dictation, it gives me all sorts of visuals, I look around for someone’s son I can picture coming out) the sun has come out by then and it’s a nice walk.
Half an hour before midday, Brun, Otto and I are waiting outside Chemistwarehouse there’s some homeless guy on our normal seat so we’ve got nowhere to sit down. Of course, the bulldogs plop themselves down on the ground so that just leaves me standing. I consider going over and saying authoritatively, “Let’s move on, son.” But, I don’t.
A cute dark haired guy in stretch grey pants walks up Bourke Street towards us. He’s giving those pants a really good stretch.
I end up sitting on the ground with my back against a glass window next to the front doors. The dogs lie on either side of me like a couple of lions.
Sam is out really quickly. “Go, go, go,” he says. “Noone is waiting.”
I head in. The boy with the fire engine red hair cuts my hair. I ask him about the tattoo behind his ear.
He laughs. “It’s a robot,” he says.
“You’d never see it,” I say.
“I see it,” he says.
I don’t know how, it is right behind his ear.
“It was something I did when I was young.”
“Would you do it again,” I ask?
He laughs, but doesn’t answer.
I decide that perhaps I’d said enough at that point.
12:12pm. I’m out of the hairdresser hair done. It always feels nice to have a haircut.
We’re just walk up Bourke Street a bit and eat Thai. I have TomYum, Sam had pork noodle soup.
12:40pm. We’re heading home.
“Here grab Brun for a minute.” I drink the last of the water off our lunch table.
The sun is shining. We walk up Bourke Street. We walk through the park. We walk through East Melbourne.
We see for ourselves that the East Melbourne side of the centre, grassy median strip of Victoria Parade is manicured, while the Fitzroy side of it is neglected. It is true.
“What the hell is Fitzroy Council doing?” we say to each other.
1pm. We stop on the cnr Gertrude Street & Brunswick Street while the pooches drinking out of the new water bowl in the recently remodelled seating area.
We stop and drink water at Bailey & Nelson, their water bowl is becoming a dog hangout, there was a black standard poodle already there. Too princess, I think.
Not all that long after 1pm, we’re home.
We do screens for the rest of the day lying on the couch. I reckon I’d done my exercise for the day, so you know, good job.
I have to say that my doctor says exercising once a day and then being inactive for the rest of the day, isn’t really that good. He says you have to keep active all day.
How long since I have been to the gym? Oh, I have lost count. Sam keeps bringing it up, but he isn’t bringing it up because of my health, he is bringing it up because of the cost.
“If you are not going, cancel the payment.”
“I’m going to go.”
“When?”
I chose to stop answering at that point.
I have to go into the office tomorrow. It has been requested of me. I have no choice. Kill me now.
Hopefully the world ends before the morning.
