Bleugh. Today the forecast is 33 degrees. Nasty hot weather makes its triumphant return to Perth, and the aircon in Chez N is still busted. Boooo I canapos;t help but have a tiny gloat that Iapos;m going to skip the hellish fry-eggs-on-the-pavement temperatures of February-March; one month until I finish up at work, six weeks apos;til I get back to a place with more moderature temperatures and pleasing mountains to rest my gaze upon.
N got back from Melbourne last night, and rather than sensibly going to bed early I sat up and compared notes on Melbourne and I bored him with stories about work. We went and had brekky at The Globe, and it was very nice even though they stuffed up both my beverage and my breakfast on the first go (when I got the right stuff it was lovely).
Yesterday afternoon, once I had recovered sufficiently from another session at the gym, I went to Morley Galleria. Itapos;s a bit like a scene from Shaun of the Dead - waxy-faced zombies shambling blank-eyed through the aisles of KMart and Target, croaking at each other in pre-verbal grunts. Plus the "Leonards Chicken Emporium" smelled like burnt death. Yick. I wanted to get myself a tasty mango, but at $3 a pop I didnapos;t even achieve that goal. Galleria sucks. I would much rather spend time browsing through footwear made of tofu in Fremantle.
I want to go swimming (since N and I were talking about it this morning) so I might have to go and get myself some bathers that arenapos;t see-through.
The guy on the computer next to me is watching horse-racing on the net. Why wouldnapos;t you just go to the track?
by eminem gone iam lyric when, by eminem gone iam when, by eminem gone im listen when.
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