Relaxing Sunday of sleeping in, going for run along the Merri, visiting new babies, etc. Put in a couple of hours at work, and then popped out and met the Mould at a favourite Irish joint in North Melbourne. Her flatmate was on the way out as I entered the warm dim pub, having made a prior dinner engagement.
'Now, you guys behave yourselves please, and try to have Kerrie home sometime soon.'
I laughed and took my jacket off. 'Oh, we are only having the one, Loz'.
'The one? That's what she says everytime she goes out for a quiet drink with you, and then I don't see her for 3 days!'
The flatmate has been on Neighbours, is an actress, and delightful. But prone to exaggeration.
Mould was nursing a shiraz, I ordered a Guinness and wistfully thought of my PaddynJohn in Dub. Feeling a bit low due to slight problem of man I quite fancied dating my housemate, but oh well. Plentyoffish.com and all that.
'We have to get your mojo back, Michelle, this is just getting ridiculous.'
She is dead right. (Buddhist saying sprang to mind: Watch your thoughts because they become your words, and then your words become actions, and your actions become your habits, and next thing you know you are 30 and haven't seen a naked man in two years. Or something.)
Currently sitting in bed with the heater on having been awake since 4.30, but not worried. Considering getting up and having shower and putting my warpaint on and facing the day.