8.30am, bedroom, Cleveland Street, at my fabbo big old desk.

Now what can I say? I want to go to Katoomba, live in a pink cottage with galah, volkswagen and palm tree motifs in stained glass throughout. To fund this life, I want to be a freelance writer with a super-duper computer.

I love Newtown to pieces but I think I’ve done Newtown. Katoomba is very colonised by alternative lifestylers and I want to be one. I need to go up to Katoomba, up to the galahs.

Just went and discussed this latest idea with Lisa. We gabbled about how we both have a storng feeling of needing to move on.

PMT art exhibition in just a few days’ time. I took my hands right off it, and it has flourished. Funny that.

I saw a cat at the pet shop yesterday in a cafe. She miaowed at me, talking directly to me: “Hey! You! Get me out of this cafe! Take me home!” I had an instant connection with her. One of those dark brown/black cats with flecks of ginger and gold all over. I really wanted her. Have to be loyal to Prince. Prince and I have a good relationship at the moment, since I came back from Katoomba and felt very happy to see him.