At this point, not much to report on the domestic front, at least not to the general public (that would be you). What I will say is that since moving out and living alone, I’m quite proud to say that I managed to resist for two weeks before eating at McDonalds!

Alas, last night I succumbed to the demon arches. It had been a full day, and I found myself on the other side of town after visiting my Dad in hospital. It was 7:30, I was hungry and had no hope of getting home in time to make and eat dinner before starving to death. So Maccas it was.

I didn’t gulp it down, I took my time, read their copy of the Hun
and relaxed for a while. But it didn’t go down well. Maybe I’m too used to good food nowadays. No matter how much salt they pile onto the fries, their meals just don’t taste good to me anymore. I suppose with McDonalds, that’s not the point. But I won’t be hurrying back.

I’m getting a handle on the whole kitchen thing. Yesterday I (gasp) bought some kitchenware. Okay, so it was only at K-Mart, not House or anything, but I’m starting to fill the gaps in the equipment list, so I can at least feed myself. And feed myself I did, for tonight I wasn’t out and about with friends or family, and I didn’t resort to cheese on toast. No, I actually cooked a proper meal. Okay, so it was only spaghetti with Paul Newman’s sauce, and some ham and cheese thrown in, but it’s a start.

The rest of the house is gradually getting more presentable as I get it in order. I borrowed a TV and a fan off my mum, and she’s got a surprising amount of spare furniture available for loan too, when I get the boxes of books and videos out of the way. Once the TV was set up, I was pleasantly surprised to find I have clear reception on all six free to air channels - yes that’s right, I can actually make sense of Channel 31! Well okay, I can see what’s on Channel 31, even if I can’t make sense of it.

I e-mailed a RealVideo file of a short tour of the flat to my sister in Sydney, since she hasn’t seen the place yet. She couldn’t get the sound to work. She phoned me up and we pondered it for a few minutes, before realising the PC in question didn’t have any speakers. Ah yes, now that could be a factor…

The phone’s all fixed up, as are the gas, water and electricity. The paperwork with the agent has gone through okay, and I must say, Stockdale and Leggo of Glen Huntly seem to be the best real estate agents I’ve ever dealt with. They’re certainly better than Nicholson’s of Brunswick East, who I’ll tell you about later.

As for the separation itself, well, it’s not quite as smooth as hoped. I think I’ve done everything right, and I hope and expect the issues to resolve themselves in the next few weeks. Until then it’s just a matter of waiting. (The people that need to know the detail of this, do. The rest of you will just have to use your imaginations, ‘cos it’s private.)

And in the mean time, I suppose I can watch Channel 31.

Well, there we go. I’ve moved. Not very far, but far enough that it involved most of Sunday packing up my belongings, lifting them onto Peter’s truck, and shipping them into the new place. It’s also involved most of Monday trying to work out where the hell everything is and trying not to be too disgusted by the mess.

It’s quite an adventure for me, living on my own. Never done it before. I’ve discovered that nothing happens unless you do it yourself. This is quite a revelation to me, I must admit. Perhaps I never appreciated the effort that goes into the creation of dinner, the tidying of the livingroom, or the washing of the dishes.

But not to worry. With practice I’ll get a handle on it.

I had said to Catherine that I’d meet her at the St Kilda Festival after moving all my stuff. It ended up being about 9:30pm by the time I got down there, when the beach concert was winding up with the last act, and drunken youths and empty bottles and cans were about all that was left on the streets!

It took about half an hour to reach Catherine on the phone - with all the people down there the networks must have been overloaded. We had a quiet drink in a noisy pub in Fitzroy Street before walking around for a bit and heading home.

Letter in today’s Age:

It’s true, honest:

I tried to ask my insurance broker about it, but they weren’t answering their phones on Thursday when I got the letter, and they haven’t replied to my e-mail yet (maybe their computer stopped working this year?)  

I’m amazed and thankful at the amount of supportive feedback I got after announcing to the world that my wife and I are splitting up. And a little surprised nobody mailed to say I was a complete bastard for moving out of home. A few people probably went a tad overboard in suggesting solutions to our troubles, a little bit difficult to do successfully when you know the barest minimum about the situation. Online diary this might be, but I write this mostly for its humour value, not as some kind of ongoing Net soapie (even if it ends up being that way sometimes!) so I don’t really go out of my way to reveal my innermost secrets here.

The bottom line is that we know why we’re doing it, and both believe that overall it’s for the best. With that in mind, I found what could very well be the perfect flat on Saturday. Cheapish, clean, the right size… Heck, it’s even got decent carpet, which is more than can be said for my current abode. So I applied for it, and should hear back in the next few days whether or not I am worthy to pay the rent there.

Last night’s weather forecast. Sure, the weather man looks cool - he’s probably got shorts on. And for you people outside the civilised world who don’t use Celsius, do some maths: It’s hot. (Picture: ABC TV news)

To any freezing northern hemisphere-type-people who might be reading:

Just a quick note to say… when you look out the window at the frost and snow on the ground, and wish you were sunning yourself in gorgeous Australia… don’t. It got to 40.2° (that’s 104.4°F) yesterday in Melbourne, which apart from being far from pleasant, was hot enough to cause power brownouts due to all the air conditioners running and one power station being out of action because of a strike.

And we’ve got more of the same today: 39° forecast for Melbourne, Adelaide’s going for 42°, and those poor bastards in Swan Hill and Mildura have got 43° (109.4°F) forecast. Weather this hot gets tiresome very, very quickly. Sure, the weather man in the picture looks cool; he’s standing in an air-conditioned TV studio, and probably has shorts on below where the camera can see.

So enjoy the snow, rain and ice! Be thankful that you can at least put more clothes on when you’re too cold!