Sleep
Okay, this New Year’s resolution isn’t really happening:
To consistently get 8 hours’ sleep a night.
Last night I got to bed appallingly late for a school night. Ditto on Wednesday, and I forgot to set the alarm, so I (and everyone else) woke on Thursday morning around 8am. Still managed to get us all out of the house by 8:45 though, which I thought was pretty good going.
Maybe I need to set a timetable for each evening.
8:30. Read emails.
9:00. Make lunch for next day if required.
9:30. Do dishes.
9:45. Any phone calls.
10:30. Watch TV/do ironing if required.
10:50. Brush teeth etc.
11:00. Bedtime.
That might work. Well… on nights I don’t have to fill in tax forms, update web sites, or do other stuff…
PS. On Doctor Who tomorrow night you’ll see just how fearsome a Dalek can be… Just try not to lose any sleep over it.
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Both ends of the cultural spectrum
Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back. I used to like Jay and Silent Bob, and rejoiced when it was first announced they would have their own movie. But now I’ve finally seen it… well, either I’ve matured or they are best seen in small doses, ‘cos I didn’t think this was up to much at all. The pokes at Hollywood and the Internet were fun, but most of the rest of it… dull.
Bangarra’s “Boomerang”. I booked early and got us some excellent seats. For me some of the messages were very clear (such as the portrayals of some of the ills of indigenous people such as domestic violence and alcoholism), while other parts needed some guidance from the programme. But all in all, great stuff, powerful imagery, and a terrific performance.
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A snag at dinner
We were out at dinner at a rather fine restaurant. The food was utterly divine, succulent, delicious. Every course a winner.
Only one snag. A piece of metal in the fish. Thankfully easily found, not sharp, and clean, it turned out to be a fish hook, proving, I suppose, that the food was fresh. It didn’t put me off the meal, and I kept eating.
When I drew it to the attention of the staff, they handled it in precisely the correct way, falling over themselves to apologise numerous times, immediately saying they would not charge for the dish, and taking away the offending object for identification by the chef. That’s life — mistakes happen, and I wouldn’t hesitate to go back.
I won’t name them. In the circumstances, it would be unfair.
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Here is my lemon tree
Most gardens in Melbourne seem to have a lemon tree. Here’s mine.
I must confess, I don’t water it as often as I should, and when I need lemons, I rarely remember to go look to see if it has one for me.
Do you have a lemon (or other fruit-bearing) tree in your garden? Post a link to it in the comments/trackbacks.
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Marita’s birthday
It’s Marita’s birthday today.
Either by accident or sneaky strategic use of the phase “Oh, I’d really like to get tickets for that”, she weaseled out of me that her main present is tickets to Bangarra tonight. But the secondary present or presents remain a surprise. No surprise blog revamp conspiracy this year!
She’s been too busy with renovation, dog care and uni to blog much recently, but head on over and wish her happy birthday.
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Priorities
“Any chance of a VB?
How are the Cats going?”
– Freed Iraq hostage Douglas Wood, on his release.
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No more Mr Nice Guy
The ATO isn’t playing nice anymore. Okay, so I admit I haven’t been sending in their infuriatingly frequent monthly forms on time.
(When the government introduced GST, they trumpeted it would be a simpler tax system. What they meant was simpler for them. Not so simple if you’re one of the Cursed who now has to fill in a form every month.)
So far I’ve got away with the late forms, the only result being a terse note along the lines of “This time we’ve decided not to fine your arse. This time.”
But now they have cracked it and… well, fined my arse. $220 no less. $110 per 28 day period (or part thereof).
This month’s damn form is going in a week early.
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More weird dreams
The other night: Rather than my usual mowing boys turning up when I ask them, half a dozen 10-ish year old boys and girls turned up at my house with a mower and various other implements of destruction and started doing my lawn and hacking up my garden, without being asked.
Last night: I was appointed interim CEO of a big company for a week, but in the position I had to wear a disguise and pretend to be an African-American called Leroy. I was also given the task of driving to the airport to pick up some Somali people coming to work for the company, but first I had to sell a kettle to a lady I apparently found going door-to-door. Then the steering wheel of my car was on the wrong side, then it was pouring down rain making the trip to the airport slow. Then when I got to the airport and waited with a sign greeting the people, they didn’t turn up.
Weird.
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