What you say when you don't really have much to say

Hello folks. I am hanging around my computer a little more these days working on some contract work for my ex-company. It is rather nice to get my teeth back into some work, kinda. Makes my brain feel less fuzzy.

I have been keeping busy in the meantime and spending lots of time at Bondi and other assorted beaches. Not so much of the partying, which is perhaps a good thing, but plenty of quiet beers at the Beech rd hotel.

In other news, a friend of mine located in Melbourne may be in the position of offering me a job as strategist with a newly opening design studio. This is good. The location is bad, though. Various things and whispers have been happening on the job front in Sydney, but I have, if anything, been ignoring them. As for overseas travel - well, ostensibly this is still hanging on the UK births, deaths and marriages getting of the bleeding haunches and sending me over my grandmother’s birth cert that I ordered well over a month ago. However, practically it is hanging on me getting some gumption together and making a bloody decision. HOWEVER, I am not feeling too guilty about the lack of said decision since (a) apparently London weather is pissy at the moment, and (b) the very fact that I am able to be un-anxious about a decision is a total novelty to me and I still haven't gotten over it and am trying to enjoy this state of apathy for as long as it and the weather hold out.

My house has been going well, although there has been a bit of degenerate “note-writing” going on over the stupidest things. The classic was me getting in the other night to find a tersely written note requesting that the chopping board be “found/replaced”, only to discover said chopping board in the cupboard directly below the note. The direct in-s and out-s of the whole thing are totally boring and irrelevant, but the relevant and scintillating point is that the haloed shine that has surrounded my house is rapidly wearing off, which frees me up to bugger off with fewer regrets.

Or, in the words of Ralph Waldo Emerson in Give all to Love

“

Heartily know,

When half-gods go

The gods arrive.

“

I like to think that this applies to housemates as well....