Tag Archives: John Mulcair

When the alarm feels like the middle of the night

Tuesday, July 10

Bedroom, 68 Cleveland St

Here I am. Thank God, I managed to jump out of bed when the alarm went off. I was very, very late yesterday morning. Almost 10am. Pat M said, “We thought you weren’t coming.” I said I’d set the alarm for 6am & switched it off because it felt like the middle of the night. John Mulcair said: “Coming to work is such an imposition!” Everyone was laughing & happy. I was in a good mood, despite the stress of being late.

A pause for 7 or 8 minutes. I just love to be a-sitting @ my desk in the morning, gathering myself, before moving. My holidays seemed to go forever. Very good holidays.

I’m very near to buying a house. Oh God, oh God.

Long pauses. Can’t keep pen moving on page. By the time I move to the mountains, it will be spring or almost spring. It will no longer be the dead of winter.

It’s hard enough getting going in the mornings to get to Hurstville on time from Redfern, the easiest little commute in the world. How do I think I”m going to manage something infinitely harder?

The sensible thing is a flat in Arncliffe. But I’m going for the magical thing. Rob Brezsny would approve. That long, cold walk to the station! That long, cold walk from the station! What about shopping? The other magical, impractical item is a VW beetle. I know of a couple of places in Sydney that sell them & have parts & look after them.

Another long pause. It’s 10 to 7. If I have $5000 left over from buying teh house, I’m going to buy an old car. Am I? What am I talking about? I might have to pour my money into the house. The other huge outlay will be my weekly ticket to Sydney, if I haven’t found a more convenient job. My mind is reeling about all this.

A leaky shower, bad gutters and an old hot water tank that could go at any time. And fix and paint the decking out the back. Also, it’s a septic tank. I can attach myself to the sewer but I’ll have to pay for it. Then there’s attachment to the natural gas line. It goes on & on & on. Mind reeling.