Toldja Stephen 5-November-2000 (Saturday-Sunday)
All right I admit it, they were right. I hate it when I'm wrong about things I think I care about. There has been a bit of debate among friends recently around a woman that I think I like. I have had two separate and long discourses on the matter and the conclusions of those discussions have both been the same. Of course I refused to believe either of the two findings being a stubborn romantic at heart. But alas for this poor soul I see that they were correct. Sometimes it strikes me as odd that the simplest questions can elicit responses that have so many layers of meaning.
"Hey, so do you mind me calling you?"
"I don't mind if anyone calls me."
So I could be anyone? I sense myself getting petulant. But at least I know now that I'm never going to be anything but just another person to this one.
In Sickness and in health 3-November-2000
I have reached that state of consciousness that goes beyond normal waking moments. My body is residing in that space where nothing seems to be tangible. My face has taken on that wonderful numb feeling and my eyes are gradually sinking back into my head, I'm sure I am wandering through a tunnel, or that some practical joker has fixed a pair of cardboard tubes to the front of my face while I was asleep.
Things shimmer in front of my eyes and despite the fact I can still see, everything has taken on a distinctly hazy outline. My nose is running and I'm snuffling into a dirty hanky.
I am in the middle of a user session and my adrenaline runs out. There is a client behind the mirror, a colleague of mine taking notes, myself and a distinguished Chinese gentleman working his way through some paper prototypes of some work I'm doing. The camera and microphones are running and I have forgotten the script, the questions I was supposed to ask are somewhere in there, tied up in those sinuous bundles of nerves. I ask them one more time to trigger and borne out of this urge the gears trip and churn and I wind back into the scene. It is like a stranger walking into the room, luckily no one notices. I need a long rest and a body to return to.
I'm Back 2-November-2000 3 days in Canberra (work)
So I get home from Canberra last night and I come into work, spend a few hours here. Then straight home, do the obligatory phone calls mumble a few things to my friends and then I flop back into bed. At about 12:00am the neighbours start karaoke singing. Normally I don't mind drunken revellers singing karaoke, but 12:00am on a work night just pushes it a bit too far sometimes. I figure it must be a public holiday for someone today or something. So I'm lying there, and my brain is slowly adjusting to falling asleep among the cacophony that is "set me free" sung by someone on speed (I assume it is some substance like this now because they were still awake and listening to cd's this morning when I left home (5:50am)). So I was into the whole relax mode when I hear the other neighbour, obviously pissed off start tapdancing. Now normally I'm quite a patient fellow, I do what I do and just get gone. But to have someone on metal steps doing a routine from tap dogs, while a set of people on amphetamines sing out of key in my ear well it got a bit too much, I stumbled across the hallway and knocked on the door. It was answered by one of those pretty people (not one of the women who live across the hall), but obviously one of their pretty rich friends, its amazing how good some people can look at 2:30am in the morning. I ask nicely with my sad, tired smile if they would mind turning it down a little.
Ten minutes later I'm in bed and asleep, the tap dancing has stopped, and the karaoke has tapered off . . . I'm feeling great until 3 hours later my alarm goes off.
* sigh * today is going to be a long day.