It’s Tuesday, if i had any sense, this would be Belgium, and i’d be sipping good coffee and eating lots of fattening things, but exercising heaps, you know, in that ‘omg, i’m in a new country, i better look around’ way. Somehow, i would not really put on weight or get spotty, despite living mostly on chocolate and coffee, because overseas, it doesn’t really count. What happens in Belgium…
Unless you’re that Aussie woman who got arrested for theft of a bar-runner towel thingie in Thailand. Her friends claimed they played a joke on her and put it in her handbag. Oops, they all said, *gigglesnort* we were drunk and silly. Perhaps they meant cretinous. She nearly got five years.
“Let me just tuck something into your bag so it looks like
you stole it! Ha! Hahahaha hahaha!”
How fucking unfunny are drunks, seriously?
I’ve been researching moving. Holy mofo – it’s expensive. It would cost about $2,000 to hire removalists. I could probably cut that to $1,000-$1,500 if i abandon most of my stuff. Doesn’t make any difference, i can’t get that kind of money together with the petrol money for two cars (to go 500 miles/800km) and the deposit on the storage unit at the other end.
If we try to hire a trailer, same problem – 3 day trailer hire and round trip to Gold Coast with some of gear, costs too much in petrol to save that money in one hit. (Mr Whatsit can do the journey there and back in about three days with one day in the middle to rest up.)
His ute can do it one way on a tank and a half , (ute is two-seater cab with open cargo back end) – with a trailer, triple that, at least. Nine tanks of petrol (9*$150)? Argh. No way can we raise that kind of money. So we’re back to about three trips in the ute, nice and gradual, with it possibly taking over 2 months. Bugger. I want to be gone, now.
Some time later…
Now it’s Wednesday. Have paid bills, done washing up, feel able to write without real guilt. Instead, i’m here feeling i should be blogging. Fuck’s sake. I’m gone again.
WTF? It’s Thursday. I’ve been writing my book. Are you all alive still? Good. Um, yeah, well i’m writing, and i’m all locked away inside my head. I’ve dropped into Twitter but I’m elsewhere. And elsewhen, come to think about it.
Yep, it’s going well, but i’m in the first 10 pages, bit soon to get all “it’s going to be a rite-de-passage, yanno, and her struggles with identity are gonna… blah blah blah.”
I’m bound to come out from inside my head soon, but right now, i have nothing to say. (Though i’ll naturally answer mail and Tweets.)
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