I’m not one to panic, but sometimes…you just have to. The time to panic is now. It’s panic time.
It wouldn’t be so much of a problem if we hadn’t had so many storms recently, what with all those stories about windows being blown in and glass going all over the pavlova. Not that I’m worried about that, because we simply don’t do pavlova in this house. Still, I’m paranoid. Our windows are old, from at least the seventies, they could come crashing in any moment.
You’d think there would be some kind of massive drive for window replacement. Melbourne would be all up in arms about how many windows are being ruined and there would be advertisement all over the place. Like…got a storm brewing? Come get some windows replaced! Best decision you’ll ever make, especially since the alternative is standing there and feeling cold as the water pours in through the broken window frame!
Do you think that might work as a business strategy? It’s all about pre-empting the market these days, keeping up with the changing trends and also keeping the water out of your house as it floods in and ruins the linoleum and floods the bottom of the fridge and sweeps away all the good china just like in my nightmare. So yeah, someone really needs to get on this. We need really big billboards, bigger than the usual billboard size, telling people that window replacement services are there and available for the use of the general public if they find themselves in need. Because there are storms coming…at some point. It’s been a very humid summer and windows everywhere are in danger. People needs to know and be reassured that Melbourne replacement windows are available, and they need to keep their homes secure in case a branch comes through, or someone kicks and ball in the wrong place, or…really big birds. Sometimes they just don’t look where they’re going.
You know what they say: the end of one adventure is just the beginning of another. I’d just like the adventures to last a little bit longer, if you know what I mean. So I just got lightly booted out of my rental property because the landlord wants to sell. That’s her business, of course, and all part of the contract. But really, only six months after I moved in?? This one was across the street from the park, two minutes’ walk from the pool and just seclude enough to miss all the traffic. The one before that, I was forced to move because the neighbours dug into a gas line and we were all evacuated. And then before that, we found out that the roof was infested with about fifty possums that had formed their own little society.
They called in the emergency roof repair people from Melbourne, and I don’t think they’d ever seen anything quite like it. I’D never seen anything quite like it. The whole thing was wrecked beyond belief, and when they opened up the hole to get inside (naturally, it was carved above MY kitchen), the smell was…well, I’ll never, ever forget it. The things people who do roof restoration have to deal with. Hopefully that was a one-off.
Oh, but it would be me, wouldn’t it? It’s like the universe is conspiring to kick me out of anywhere I settle, and by this point it’s getting creative. What’s next? Maybe lightning will strike the electrical box, causing a fire that consumes my entire property. Perhaps there’s going to be a heavy fall of snow (in Melbourne summer, of course, because it’s me), and I’ll be cut off from all services, and all my pipes will freeze and break and then when I turn them on my house will be flooded into oblivion and my roof will collapse, because why not? Then the Melbourne roof repair people will come along and keep their distance from me because I’m basically cursed. Can’t say I blame them.
You know, I did think it was weird. I go through all of Patrick’s texts, and I’d never seen him get any messages from someone called ‘Juniper’. I also go through all of his emails, because a relationship built on trust is one that thrives and I have to make sure I can trust him, obviously. You get it, right? He gets a few emails from women at work, but they’ve been mostly benign (still have to follow up on Casey from HR calling him ‘Pat’. I smell a rat).
Then I hear him talking to his mates about ‘Juniper’. Most of the time when I listen in through the bug I placed on his phone, he just talks about guy stuff. It took me a solid thirty minutes of listening to him and his friends chatting at the pub to realise that he was talking about…a boat. Seriously. A plate alloy boat, as he kept specifying. I don’t know what’s so special about plate alloy boats, but I do know this: he spent fifty-two minutes talking to his friends about boats. Talking about me, his beloved girlfriend? Six. SIX MINUTES.
I should be the main topic of his conversations when we’re away. How can I trust a guy who’d do something like this, prioritizing a boat over me in conversation?? I feel like Juniper is my main competition. Patrick is basically cheating on me, with Juniper. What an absolute cow. I knew that Juniper was bad news from the moment I first heard about her, and this just confirms it. To think I poured in all this effort, making sure Patrick had nothing to do with other women, and now it’s a boat that’s bringing everything crashing down. Why didn’t I keep an eye out for suspicious boats?
She and all plate aluminium boats are now the enemy of our relationship…and now, I have to fix it. For the sake of our trusting relationship!
My girlfriend is the best, truly a wonderful person, the only downside is she can obsess over the smallest things on occasion. We were packing up the house, getting ready to move and start a new adventure somewhere else. The lease was about to end and we had been asked to leave as the owner was going to sell. It was taking a long time to get all of our things packed up. It meant having to hire someone to take care of the professional tile and grout cleaning, Melbourne has been rainy lately and we’re tracked mud inside. We really need help to sort out the mess, more like a sinkhole that is our home.We are both very proud and even though we live mess, we make a good effort to ensure that no one else knows about it. We decided to do a little cleaning before the cleaners arrived. I think we both didn’t want them to judge us on the level of mess in our home. I mean it’s their job to simply to work based on the level of cleanliness. It was a strange thing to do, but like I said, we are a proud couple, and that’s exactly what we did.
This was when we found the giant floor stain. I flipped out, I jumped on the bed and raved like I was being attacked by invisible bees in my mind. This amused my girlfriend to no end, who decided to laugh at my reaction. Before the carpet cleaners arrived we tried all sorts of stain removal solutions to try and clear it up some. It didn’t work so great, and we made sure to leave it to soak in for some time. We were both nervous leading up to the hour that the carpet cleaners were set to arrive and help with the stain removal. Melbourne has been our home for so many years it’s going to be difficult to move to the outer suburbs. They’re probably going to think that we are both crazy.
Oh, yep, THAT’S what the company needed! Ladder platforms. Whoop, great idea. Gold star to the idiot who came up with that.
Alright, I’m a little bit salty at the moment. I know that these renovations are all fine, we need them and heaven knows that the entrance needed a tune-up. That revolving door was like a recurring 1970s nightmare. I can walk though some fibreglass ladders, it’s fine, whatever…
Ugh, I’m so salty though. Usually all the anger fades after I stop gaming, and I got back to being my regular self after my transformation into flaming rage beast. This time? My loss streak has infected my soul, and everywhere I go I see the ‘DEFEAT’ screen flashing in my face. Makes me want to track down my trashy, useless moron team by their usernames and wring their necks. See how bad it’s gotten? Just having to walk underneath some folding platform steps has put me back in rage mode. I calmed down from that, but then Julie came around to my desk and said that I hadn’t done my filing right. I HATE filing! It was bad enough the first time, and now she wants me to waste time going through it all to find one mistake! I HAVE REPORTS DUE!!
I was THIS close to exploding right there at my desk. Just the act of holding all that in manifested in a death stare that sent her scurrying back to her own desk. I could just see the faces of my useless, random internet teams in Julie. She failed me just like they failed me. Just like those platforms outside failed me by making it very slightly inconvenient to use my regular entrance. Everyone fails you, even when you play your absolute hardest, because life is full of trolls.
Yep, I’ve definitely turned into a rage monster. Should probably go find the guy atop the aluminium platform and apologise for trying to shake him off; that was wrong. And then, maybe I’ll uninstall this game before it gives me an actual heart attack.
Don’t really know why, but I’m obsessed with foreign films. I don’t know, maybe I should’ve been born in India or something. Their movies are just plain amazing, particularly since they’re so overblown and nobody cares. It’s like a feast for the imagination!
The last one I watched was called Punch Guy!, and it was about a superhero who nobody liked who went around punching people. Nobody liked him because he caused so much property damage, but the grand message came when he realised that he should just let the police take care of bad guys and apply his talents elsewhere. Like, punching down trees. That was his job at the end of the movie.
Imagine if you called the Melbourne tree removal people and they just came along and punched your tree problem right down. In fact, you probably can’t imagine that, because it’s not real, but…how cool would it be?
I’m letting my imagination run away with me again, and besides, that might not even work. After all, it’s not like tree removal is all about brute force. If that was the case, they’d knock down trees with a wrecking ball and that would be that, job done and everything peachy. Stumps would be removed by planting some C4 and retreating to a safe distance, after which you’d blow it right out of the ground, or at least to tiny steaming bits. No, I’ve actually seen trees being removed, and it has a more finesse than just hacking at the thing with an axe. Imagine if it was an explosive axe. An axe that made explosions!
Yeah, nah. Same kind of problem. You’d have trees toppling into houses and splinters taking people’s eyes out. Nasty stuff.
Okay, you need tree pruning in Melbourne, but they do it with LASERS… The world could be so much cooler if we just let it happen.
First new house experience, and I guess most things have been fine. I’ve already brought a casserole to the neighbours, who seem decent and were very grateful. Their recycling bin is always full of pizza boxes, so maybe a hearty meal is what they needed in their diet. The overflowing beer bottles from the neighbours on the right made me worry a bit, but they don’t seem to be party animals. Two weeks in and we’ve had very quiet weekends, with nothing more than a bit of loud music.
There’s only been the bathroom incident, but even then, I guess people are more efficient about that stuff here in Frankston. Pest control people were here in what seemed like minutes. Not that I didn’t have a GO at removing all those cockroaches, but it was really a job for a set of comprehensive tools, you know? I’m not a huge DIY buff. I am but one man with an English Literature degree, so I’m pretty happy with my attempt.
And people said that Frankston was rough! The cockroach thing was rough, but otherwise, everyone seems very decent. There’s a bit of a seaside town vibe, and that permeates a lot of things. Everyone’s relaxed, sort of, and even when the pest control people came to get rid of my cockroaches, they seemed very chilled about it. Probably because it’s their job and they do it several times a day, but still…the level of chill was exceedingly high.
That’s just my life now. My life in Frankston, where termite inspections are given with a smile and casseroles are gratefully accepted. No termite troubles as of yet, and no return casserole, but I continue to live in hope that I’ll at least be invited over for pizza.
Meanwhile, I live in the opposite hope that I’ll never actually need the termite control services, because…I’m not equipped to deal with them either.
I just start speaking in a Russian accent. Don’t ask me where it comes from…maybe I have ancestry.
Suppose it really freaks people out when I switch back to Australian, so there’s that. Oh, and when people ask me to say thing in Russian and I only know like three words. ‘Privet! Novosibirsk! Nasdrovia!’ And one of those is a place name, so maybe it doesn’t count. Or rather it counts as much as knowing ‘Siberia’, or ‘Moscow’.
What was I talking about? Oh yeah, it was relevant, because I met a Russian guy the other day. Not many of those in Cheltenham! Conveyancing solicitors have been on the brain for me recently, because we’re an advertising subsidiary and a few such companies wanted representation and advertisement. My job is complicated, I guess, but we found a company that does advertising and stuff, so I was just finalising everything with them. You know, making sure they actually know what conveyancing is and what it involves. That’s basically it, I guess.
One of them was Russian, but his English was perfect since he’d been here forever or whatever. I thought I’d try out a bit of Russian, so I used ‘privet’ and he seemed pretty happy. That’s ‘hello’, by the way. And this is where I picked up ‘Novosibirsk’, because that’s where he’s from, but it totally sounds like it could be a legitimate, complicated Russian word. So they learned all about conveyancing and soliciting, while I was taught a bit of Russian. One word of Russian, that also happens to be a place name. Alright, those on the conveyancing solicitor knowledge side probably came of better, but you can’t win them all. Guess I’ll just go look up how to say something about conveyancing and land sale acts or whatever…in Russian. You know, to lend some credibility to the accent.
The role of Sandra was mine. I’m serious, that little witch stole it right out from under my nose, and what am I left with? Mum #4. That’s not even Mum #1, which I clearly deserve!! The worst part is that Lana doesn’t even know what she did, stumbling into the audition late just as I was about to awarded the part and impressing everyone with her genuine air of mum-hood and slight stress. Oh, she took the wrong bus? Tough biscuits, dearie. That part was mine, and it was about to be my big break. I don’t think I can quite say the same about Mum #4, who by the way has only a single line: “Sandra, let it go!”
I WILL NOT.
Heaven knows I’ve tried to exert some influence over the whole thing. I even suggested a kids birthday party venue in Croydon, just down the road. It’s closer! We won’t have to travel! I, myself, will not have to travel at all, except for a three-minute walk! Nope, we’re off on a long-haul flight to Jandakot. It has all the filming locations we need in one big area, and we’ve already secured the use of the play centre. Oh, I see…Mum #4 just doesn’t carry the clout of a main cast member.
Then I tried to get my BF Jared off the sofa and into the production, because they were looking for guys to stand in the background of the dance sequence to represent the dads. I thought it’d be great for him to get away from those video games and see what I do for a living, you know? The director took one look at him and decided that he’d be great as Sandra’s hard-working husband. So now he has a recurring role and way more lines than me. What is EVEN happening here, for real. No joke. I’m about to explode.
Ugh, sigh. I guess we get to film in an indoor play centre like in Croydon, but…further. Brings back being a kid, when I used to go there with Rachel and she stole my teddy bear and buried it in the ball pit…gah, now I’m angry again!
I’m not going to lie, it’s been a really tough couple of weeks. Between being told my division at work is being let go, visiting mum and finding out her condition has gotten even worse, and a couple of extremely dead-end dates, it’s just been one huge downer. I know it’s probably my mid-life crisis setting in, but I’m just feeling so lost right now. I wish I had more direction, that I knew where I wanted to go with my life, but I feel so … stagnated. Like I’m just milling around without really making any progress. The whole thing is so demotivating, I just really need to do something crazy to try and get a bit of my spark back.
I think I might get lip injections. Melbourne is a really great place for getting cosmetic surgery like that – you know it’s all going to be totally safe and really high quality, so if you go somewhere half decent there’s basically no chance of a botched job. It’s all about where you go, and believe me, I’ve done my research. I just really want to do something for me. I feel like my life and my youth are getting away from me, and even though I know that’s not a bad thing, why shouldn’t I do something to feel good about myself?
At the same time, though, I’m not a hundred percent sure lip injections or fillers or whatever are going to be right for me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m dead set on some kind of cosmetic surgery, but I’m not sure if I should do my lips or something else. I’ve been looking a little bit at maybe doing some cosmetic tattooing here in Melbourne or something else along those lines. Clearly, I need to think about this a little more, but I’m getting there. It just takes a little time.