2003-04-27

Well, three weeks of mindless bullshit later...

Work has been the overriding theme of the last 3 weeks, and I have to say that i am a bit over this whole 'earn a living' thing. Had many altercations at the fabric joint, and for a while was considering departure but if I go it just means I have to find some other unrewarding job in another part of town with some other miserly, dodge headed boss type with more money than sense and no respect for their employees. Money may make the world go round, but it don't make it any prettier.

What I did on my holidays...

Luckily, what working for the man does do is give you the opportunity for some cool experiences. After a few false starts, the Crust, Mis Mel, Jawache and myself wandered off to Daylesford for a couple of days to look at trees and have yeah many spas. There is nothing I do love more than a good spa, and even better when you get to go to a 'health resort' to experience it.

Hepburn Springs is like a yuppie version of an Agatha Christie novel setting, with lots of orderly people in uniforms asking you what kind of massage you would like, Asian tourists wandering around in fluffy bathtowels and people taking the waters for their health. Personally I tried to sneak in a bottle of Mount Adam Pinot Noir Cuvee but apparently getting pissed and sitting in the spa for an hour is frowned apon in such places. I believe that the health benefit of a spa has to do more with its relaxing properties than overheated, frothy water, and all I was trying to do was encourage that relaxation factor with some quality booze. Peasants!

Took the bubbly back to the cottage we were staying in and consumed most of the bottle myself whilst sitting in the spa there. Sure, not as full of cachet as doing it at a health resort, but I did feel incredibly relaxed after it. The fire was crackling in the grate, there were crappy movies on tele, and trash magazines to be read - it was 3 days of aaaahhhhhhhhh. Didn't even mind that I had to get up at 4am to go to Dawn Service for Anzac Day on Friday (I thinkI was still feeling the effect of the bubbly and the rather generous amount of port I had consumed the night before).

Why would I go to dawn service, you may ask? Mostly cause of my grandad, who died a couple of years back. Pop was not the nicest person in the world, but he was true to himself, and made killer homebrew stout that saw me make my way through teenagehood with a certain degree of numbness. He saved my life with that homebrew - there is no way on earth I could have withstood the slings and arrows of small town youth without being half cut most of the time. Not that I would recommend such a pathway to my kids, but you does what you can to gets by. Anyway, I go to dawn service to remember Pop, and to watch the old dudes stand proud in the chill morning, chests full of metal and eyes full of memories. I cry every time.

Headed back from Spa country, stopping for a very cream and jammy Devonshire tea in Macedon, and arrived in Melbourne with renewed hope and vigour, only to get stuck in a traffic jam in Coburg. Within 10 minutes i was back to ranting and raving, and three days of hard relaxation drifted out the window into the smog and destruction of the city. Sigh. Made promise to self to move to the country as soon as they figure out a way to make it not boring when you actually do live there.

Last day of holidays today, at home, and I think I shall spend most of it baking and avoiding any kind of cleaning up. I really really really don't want to go back to work, but I know I have to if I ever want to go a wandering in search of spas again. Perhaps I'll go run a bath and fart in it a bit to recreate my lovely bubbly holiday.

bitch - moan