Henry Malthus

0600: Alarm, snoozed.

0609: Alarm. I’m not feeling too tired today, decide that only one snooze cycle is needed. I proceed to spend the next seven minutes in bed regardless.

0618: I throw some clothes on, and carefully step down the stairs: my feet are like teflon on the carpet at this time of morning.

0619: I turn the espresso machine on, get it warming up. I find the milk frother by the sink, it’s been rinsed–probably last night, probably I was last to use it–but, there’s still some cooked milk stuck to the bottom, there always is. I look for the paper towels. It takes me a minute or two: someone has put them in the cupboard under the sink; a new place. These kinds of delays–while not long–irritate me to no end. Could talk to Bob about it (I suspect him because that was the first place he’d looked the other day) but, I’m easy, it’s really not worth making a fuss over. I’ll remember next time, under the sink will be place no. 3 for where the paper towels are hidden.

0626: Took me far too long to make my cafe latte. I grab a cigarette and head outside. Sip my coffee, smoke my cigarette–first of the day.

0638: Cigarette done, I head inside. Gulp down the rest of my coffee. The racks of clothes drying outside catches my eye, I remind myself to do some washing–I’m not sure I even have anything clean for work today.

0641: Rinse cup, sit it down by the sink. Shower time.

0657: 16 minutes. Not too bad. I’ve organised my mornings so as to only be in the bathroom once in the mornings. Now all that’s left is to get dressed and go. I begin to dry myself.

0701: Getting dressed is quite a challenge today: three ill-fitting t-shirts; 2 polo t-shirts that get all out of shape and will look terrible by about 11am; and 3 ugly shirts is all I have to choose from. I decide on a pair of far-too-dirty jeans, and an soon-to-be-out-of-shape polo. I have a single pair of socks to choose from–all the rest are in need of washing. At least some decisions are easier.

0708: As I plod downstairs, I’m tempted to put a load of washing on. Then I remind myself that I’m already running late for my (voluntary) 7:30am start, and dismiss the thought. Dressed now, I start gathering my things. I run outside to grab a lighter off of the outside table. I have a choice of sixteen lighters exactly (Bob counted, I’m still a little unsure of his rationale), I pick the big blue on, my usual. Belt on now; I grab my hair product and run to a mirror (in the bathroom, whoops) and “style” my hair; then start shoving my stuff in my backpack.

0715: Out.

0730: On the train now, it departs in 5 minutes; it’s now clear I’m no where near making work on time. The walk to Bondi Junction station was pretty uneventful. The guard at the Synagogue on the corner said “Hi”, I returned the gesture, being sure not to stop and chat, I’m still not interested in his “business”. Getting to the station, I was pleasantly surprised that my ticket was still valid. I grab my second coffee of the day, along with a chocolate muffin–breakfast–at the platform cafe. The coffee is too hot, too bitter. Although, I can’t really complain, their business is in being fast and OK, not slow and great; churning out multiple coffees a minute for all the execs who need a caffeine hit before they get to work.

0740: Stopped at Kings Cross. A guy gets on; stares a me just a little too long. I look away, a signal – “Sorry dude, I’m not your type.”

0745: Town Hall station. My destination. I bite the bullet; it’s quarter too now, I’m already fifteen minutes ‘late’, may as well make it a solid half-hour. I head topside and lean against the alcove outside the building and light a cigarette. That’s two, if you’re counting. A man I suspect is homeless walks up to me, asks to buy a cigarette, starts talking about something else, I hardly hear him, perhaps he mumbles worse than I do. “Just have one” I say, opening the pack towards him. “Mind if I take two?” I pause, “Sure.” He talks some more, leans in, “Listen, you don’t have some spare change? I need to catch a bus.” The smallest I have is a fiver, and I don’t give out cash anyway. “Sorry, mate, no.” I wondered how he planned to pay me for a cigarette in the first place, and then another interruption: An Asian man, he’s about my age, perhaps one or two years older. He’s dressed in business attire: white shirt, open collar; black suit jacket and pants; and a diamond (faux, perhaps) studded earring; looking very fashionable. He’s holding a two-dollar coin. “Could I buy four smokes off you?” You have got to be kidding me? I hesitate: I just gave away two. “It’s OK if you don’t want to, it’s fine.” he adds. “You can’t afford to buy a pack?” I ask. “Trying to cut down,” he says, walking away now, “Cheers anyway, mate.” Taking my question as a decline.

0756: Time to go up.

0807: I spend the first few minutes of my day pottering around, firstly greeting people then sitting down to read The Sydney Morning Herald while finishing my muffin. My desk is mostly empty: the only work I have to do is printing. I grab my axe and begin my killing of trees.

0930: Printing done. Just under an hour and a half, fairly timely. In that time, a bunch of complaints were dumped on my desk; awaiting entry. Only a single ream of printing this time too; it seems I greatly over-estimated how much there was to do. We use 80% post-consumer paper throughout the office (for those who were wondering,) so one ream equates to only about 100 sheets of new tree killed. Time to hand the printing on, then down to the ground floor for another sneaky cigarette.

0944: Complaints to enter, more substantial work to do. Fun times.
1057: Three more complaints left–there were ten in total–and time for another cigarette. Maybe I’ll take a couple bucks down and grab another latte too.

1114: Coffee is crap. Again. Too hot, overcooked. I used to love that coffee shop. It still seems to be as busy as ever; but the coffee has definately gone downhill; it’s so inconsistent now, fantastic one day; too milky and too cold the next; hot and bitter the one after that. Perhaps I should stop going there too.

1156: Just finished my pile of complaints when another couple dozen got dropped on my desk! The other temp leaving has meant I have about double the work, it seems; now I’m actually working.

1208: Complaints are sorted–seriously speeds up the entry process when there are less things to think about directly for each complaint–now, cigarette time.

1230: Feeling totally drained. Probably a combination of lack of food mixed with my morning hit of caffeine wearing off. Time to run downstairs and grab some food, I think.

1305: I had Chicken and Cashew with Fried Rice, and a Coke. It’s my current favourite, had it every day for the last three weeks now. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll try something new. I spent my lunch half-hour reading my feeds, nothing particularly interesting to report. An abstract-ish blog post about an article on respectable female characters in games (basically, “there aren’t many, there should be more” I think was the gist of it.) reminded me of my need, obligation even, to play Fahrenheit.

1324: Two more complaints down. I’m feeling mildly better now, the food has set in. Off for another smoke, and then I’ll dig in and try to clear these piles.

1342: Cigarette and toilet break later, I’m ready to get down and Get Things Done.

1447: Whoo. Quite a productive hour. Time for (yet again) another cigarette, then it’s home time.

1506: Leaving early today, documentary to see. I clean up my desk. Had to get an important file out “ASAP”. And now? Home time.

1511: Gone.

1524: Fina
lly on train. Spent the last ten minutes on the platform, waiting, reading mX. Now it’s time to do the Sudoku.

1535: Train was on time; at Bondi Junction station now. Wasn’t able to finish the Sudoku, that can be a task for home. I decide to forgo buying this week’s train ticket today, it’s too early, today would be counted on the new ticket.

1549: Kate’s home too. She has to take the day off to see the doctor.

1555: Outside for first home cigarette, Kate’s out here too. We chat a bit, then I stub out my cigarette and head inside to see my doco.

1603: Eye of the Leopard

1608: Adbreak. This Diary of my Day (as I’m calling it currently) has already taken up six A4 refill pages of notes. I estimate I’ve probably spent an hour scrawling my day in here; I’m not looking forward to the moment I need to start typing this up.

1650: Adbreak. ‘Legadema’, as the young Leopard is called, has learnt how to hunt Monkeys, just like Ma used to. I’ve fried myself up some Breakfast for dinner. Eggs, Bacon, Baked Beans; all on toast.

1656: Adbreak. Legadema has learnt how to hunt squirrels. She’s killed over 300 in the last couple of years of her life. They’re hardly a meal for her; the narrator has made it clear it’s more of a game, a hobby, than for food.

1717: Yet another adbreak, this time with cigarette!

1804: Crystal rings, she’s bought a couple of sofa beds on eBay. She wants me to help get them back here.

1813: Crystal home. We jump in Kate’s car. The sofas are at a unit in Vaucluse. Crystal says that Ben wasn’t exactly thrilled that he had to pay.

1911: I rode home with the guy, in his truck. To help him if we got separated from Kate’s car; although, it’s literally three turns from his place to ours, and we don’t get lost. We have a nice chat. He and his wife have just had a child. Their first, I assume–their place didn’t look furnished for baby. They’re moving to Cairns, he’s from there originally. He says that Byron Bay is nice, although it gets mad there around Christmas and Easter. I make a mental note to visit, sometime.

1923: The sofas look OK. The colour could be better, however.
1930: For those who are counting, I’m on my second cigarette while writing this little recap.

1935: I’m going inside; time to test the new couches.

1944: The couches are fairly comfortable. No clouds in heaven type thing, but they’re reasonable. Mythbusters is on.

2056: Desperate Housewives now. This show is far too far along from when I last watched it, finding it hard to follow the story lines. Another cigarette.

2137: Final smoke of the night. Getting kind of tired of this experiment now. It’s also fairly demanding in terms of writing: I’m onto the ninth page of this notebook. We’ll see if I can keep it up for the entire week. I mean, who really wants to know all these mundane details of my life, anyway? At any rate, it’s getting late–for me; recall I have to be up at 6am–and I still have to type this up.

2143: I begin my walk upstairs. I’m stopped by Crystal looking at the massive array of photos she has on her phone. She runs me through a number of fantastic shots of her manager, a female, making out with another girl. “Who’s the better couple?” she jokes, alternating between one of the manager gazing deep into her partner’s eyes; and one of Ben Broad and is girlfriend, Heidi, sitting on the couch, smiling at the camera. I make my bed and look around my room. Time to type this behemoth up.

2220: Finally, Crystal is off the laptop

2230: I begin typing it up.

2245: Introductory post finished, I begin typing up today’s notes.

2340: Roughly 40% through. Ben’s home now, he’s restless, noticed I’ve borrowed his laptop. He comes up to chat.

2349: Ben commandeers the laptop. He’s looking for a version of Civilisation for his cell phone.

0019: No longer the 16th now. Ben resigns his search, frustrated. So damn tired now, I continue on.

0109: Waaaay past bedtime. I’m damn near falling asleep now. I figure I’m about 70% complete now, I think my earlier estimation was wrong. I close the laptop and settle down for bed. Change my alarm to 6:30am instead.

0112: Put down pen, shut off lamp and close my eyes.