No wait, hang-on, fuckit..

Sunday, 1st March 2020

1:49 PM

I’m still exhausted and it’s Monday tomorrow.

Maybe I’m exhausted because I’ve not done anything yesterday or today – maybe not – but the school disco happened on friday afternoon so there’ll be even more work to usual I’m sure.

Whatever anyway, I’ve come into town to buy coffee and charge my phone since I fell asleep last night with the tablet charging it with my battery and ran it flat.

Brian suggests I get a bike: a push-bike to Blackheath – he’s obviously senile though so I don’t expect anything more efficient outta him anymore.

I messaged about one place there but there’s not a lot of share places specifically in Blackheath itself – not at the moment anyhow.

Monday, 2nd March 2020

2:16 PM

No sleep at all, a $32 taxi fare to Blackheath at 5:00 AM, over an hour waiting for the bus back to Katoomba this morning and yeah I wish this day was already over yet I’m still in Katoomba waiting for the 689V to Blackheath for another four hours before I’ll probably have to wait an hour for the bus or train or whatever comes back.

5:16 PM

In two hours I’ve managed to do all the vacuuming and all bins except the six wheelie bins and to my great surprise, even after the school disco on friday night plus the markets in the weekend, the school showed almost no evidence of either: it was as clean as I left it friday afternoon…

Yet I cannot leave, because there are hang-around teachers still left over from the meeting they all had at 3:30 PM.

Can’t really tell them to get out since I’ve still got over half an hour left I’m meant to be here plus I arrived 45 minutes late this afternoon but I’d certainly like to just sneak out of here, which I will in a minute actually – all I’ve really gotta do is go lockup the demountables now and leave the admin block for whoever’s left.

We’ll do that.

Tuesday, 3rd March 2020

7:22 PM

‘Good morning, Jason’ says the gorgeous kindergarten teacher every morning at around 8:00 AM without fail and of all the ‘good mornings’ I get and have to echo back to other people, she’s the only one who always attaches my name to the greeting and I’ve started doing the same.

Same in the afternoon; same when she thanks me for things she doesn’t need to thank me for like vacuuming her classroom in the afternoon while she’s there or offering to lock and alarm her block if she’s done – ‘Thank you Jason’

Like a dog having its name spoken I am: her voice is high-pitched, soft, female and distinctive enough that my hearing instantly dismisses all other sound as white-noise and snaps onto her anytime I hear her speaking.

I’ve gotta go to bed as soon as I’ve eaten because I don’t have time to scratch myself lately, aand after no sleep two nights ago I did manage some sleep last night but not very much at all and I’m sick of feeling just barely conscious all day because I haven’t missed a shift regardless how exhausted I’ve been.

I did sleep long enough ri heave a dream where I was trying to clean a school yard that had a foot-deep blanket of rubbish covering it.

Everytime I’d sweep-up a section, I’d turn around and it was a foot deep in rubbish again like I’d never done it.

Parents and teachers were just walking around in it smiling at me like I was doing a good job but they just couldn’t see they were wading in papers and empty chip packets and that godamn popcorn fuck they’re gonna SEE how filthy it really is I kept panicking, but they didn’t even notice – just kept walking through it smiling.

I’ve signed for the site keys too this morning: these are how many I’ve gotta deal with and there’s anot a dozen more I’ve not even used yet …

That’s three key-rings: one to get me into the front door and disarm that building plus open the main cleaners cupboard where the other keys are left because there’s obviously way too many to be carrying everywhere.

The second key-ring is the all the rooms are outer doors in the admin block and the third unlocks all the other blocks of disarms their individual alarms.

Wednesday, 4th March 2020

10:51 PM

Leura makes the fourth town I’ve been in since 5:00 AM and though people still seem to really like acting a cut above here, strange it’s the only town that public toilets do putrid I don’t even like my shoes to come in contact with the kind of filth that’s on that floor.

Don’t either: I used the little woolies toilet but didn’t realize the sliding door doesn’t automatically lock so some asian tourist chick has walked in and interrupted me.

On the way out I told her I wouldn’t use any toilet in Leura: really reaaally dirty toilets.

The midgets at Blackheath had both recess and lunch inside their classrooms yesterday and will again for the next few days at least, so after yesterday afternoon and this morning spending a stupid amount of time vacuuming all the noodles and ground-in shit out the carpet I proposed the school introduces a new rule that from now on, all children must eat outside in the rain.

I proposed this to the admin women just before leaving and .. god there’s so many old people in Leura .. yeah they laughed and told me ‘Good luck with that’

12:05 PM

Back to this toilet bowl…

I don’t even get halfway down the main street when I’m standing there with both the new pouches of tobacco I’ve bought this morning out getting the papers out of one to putin the other pack when I hear someone calling my name as they approach.

Tom, from the Ritz.

Instantly I realize how dumb I am to be standing in a town packed with beggars, homeless filth and scabs with two full pouches of tobacco out in the open and panic to get them away while I tell Tom I’m full-time cleaning Blackheath Primary on a casual rate then tell him it’s costing me $30/morning to actually get to work because there’s nothing else at 5:00 AM in this podunk skid-mark on the map and so he starts asking if I want to swap numbers because his partner works in an op-shop and maybe a good push bike will show up.

I scoffed “Would YOU wanna peddle to Blackheath at five in the morning in the rain?” then pointed out that even if I did I’ve still got four hours of intense work once I get there on top of the bike ride needlessly draining my energy.

“Be alright if I was one of the useless hippie walking clichΓ©s here in town just sittin’ ’round looking like something the 60s shat out – with the idiotic dreadlocks and tie-died wanker clothes: I’ve gotta get there to *work*, not just because I’m stoned and can’t think of anything better to do than waste time and energy doing pointless exercise”

A garbage bin this town is.

You call them ‘characters’, I call them worthless human beings: from the smoke scabbing teenagers to the junkies to the homeless losers to the mass of unemployed and the mentally ill nutjobs screaming for nobody in town and that’s not even mentioning all the degenerate filth that flock to Katoomba straight from Lithgow jail to scab shit from the food bank because they can’t get a job because they were dumb enough to accumulate criminal records that stop any halfway legitimate employer wanting anything to do with the seedy tat-covered fuckers.

Just worthless human beings.

Nobody in Blackheath ever asks for a smoke. You don’t have to walk around the beggars on the main street or step over homeless shit outside the supermarket at six in the morning and everybody I see walking around Blackheath clearly look as though they’re on their way to or from work.

Katoomba’s 40% losers of every kind annoys me to come back to every day.

Oh right, it’s a new month.

Better move my rant to a new post.

Pft – I’ll get around to it.

I got a taxi home a minute ago, because what the fuck right I’m forking-out $150/week indefinitely until I can find a share place in Blackheath to move into so what’s $7 to save myself having to walk home.

Anyway I told him to just drop me off at the T-intersection of Darley and Oatley because I don’t want the housos to know I’ve got money or they’ll be knocking on my door to scab anything they can, so here is fine.

I told him about the new – and very rare within the company – full-time site and that she’s let me stay idling on casual-rates so I’m raking in over $1200 a week until I move to Blackheath and settle there but told him I’ve had about 6 hours sleep since Saturday night so I planned to red-wine myself to sleep tonight.

Then I got to the bottle shop and realized I don’t need to tolerate cheap shitty red wine nor have it give me heartburn all day tomorrow and grabbed a $60 bottle of Drambuie instead because it actually tastes good and doesn’t even make a dent in my paycheck.

Which I did, and an drinking now while my garlic bread heats-up.

Yeah anyway all the teachers at the school love me now – didn’t take long: there’s not been a passive aggressive cold-stare this week from a single one of them and even the most stuck-up of the lot of them – the one who looks like Joanna Griggs says good morning and smiles at me with genuine warmth now, every morning; like the music teacher does, and the office staff do, and the principal herself – Kristen – does, and both the kindergarten teachers do yeah they all love me and I they’ve seen of them so far is the dead-on-his-feet fucking exhausted Jason – wait til they get to see the well rested, energetic force of nature I am when I’ve settled and become familiar with them.

The warm-as-the-sun version of me that’ll inevitably break open once I’ve become comfortable with them 🌞

Another benefit of a full-time, permanent site is I’ve got a very comfortable cleaners cupboard that nobody else uses, with a power-points all to myself I can just leave my batteries plugged into so I don’t ever run out of juice anymore and my watch, my phone, my tablet and my bluetooth headphones.

And just today I was thinking: there’s plenty of room in that cupboard to store valuables.

Valuables I might want to move out with: it’s a safe place to store bits and peices while I’m looking for the actual residence for myself to move to.

As for my favourite kindergarten teacher: I saw the other day on her door the ‘Mrs’ that could indicate she’s married or divorced but it wouldn’t even matter – thanks to that bitch I wasted four years chasing for nothing, I became pretty good at giving and getting nothing back, so I can happily flood this woman with kindness without expecting anything from her and the fact she’s even just kind in return means she’s giving more back that the shifty, untrustworthy slut ever did.

Right off the bat with simple reciprocated kindness this teacher gives me more reason to be kind than that waste of effort could in half a decade.

So we can be content to simply label it a bit of a crush: even if that’s all it is it’s something else I get out of the job than the wads of cash on payday.

A beautiful woman to serve.

A dozen beautiful women to serve really, but I can only focus on one at a time and the public education goddess is that one for now.

It’s called romance everybody: take it away or even try to fake it and even sex itself is just a cheap, tacky mechanical act like any two dogs grunting and fucking – nasty, shit.

There’s no substitute for genuine romance and it all begins with that little crush.

She came looking for me today after I’d locked and alarmed the kindergarten classroom block since I figured she’d gone home and asked to borrow my keys to let herself back in.

She asked where I’d be so she could bring them back to me – Here? My block? Halfway?.

I told her “Wherever you like: I’m going over to get my vacuum cleaner from D Block in a minute then I’m coming back here to lockup :)”

Minutes later I’m in D Block telling that teacher I’d vacuum hers in the morning so I don’t disturb the music tutoring going on and she’s asked whether my favourite teacher found me.

I told her she had, that she’s got my keys and as I said it I see out the classroom window this gorgeous woman running back towards me to hand back my set if keys and just like that, she’s bang – right in front of me smirking.

So close I can see the near invisible layer of microscopic white fuzz and the tiny pores of her skin and with that now common-place “Thank you Jason” in that distinctly female-pitched voice.

“You’re welcome”

I can see individual eyelashes then notice she has light grey eyes: irises flat as concrete yet warmed by the highly expressive eyes framing them.

Geez..

Thursday, 5th March 2020

9:35 AM

The alcohol sedation worked a treat with 5h+ of solid sleep without any trace of a hangover.

It’s still not enough to catch me up on the last several days to the point I’d claim to be flawlessly rested, but I feel incomparably better today than I have so far this week and there’s plenty of Drambuie left for the proceeding nights – I only had around three shots last night.


I started stripping The Favourites hallway floor this morning like I told her I would, but had to stop because I had, well the rest of the school to do and the general humidity was the air made all the mopped areas take forever to dry and I didn’t want a bunch of 5 year old kindergarten kids slipping all over the place breaking their necks when the bell rings.

Stripping is a bit more involved than just mopping too because though the built-up filth literally wipes off the floor due to the acidity of the chemical, you’ve gotta mop it up with a separate bucket and mop containing only water to remove the stripper and you’ve gotta do it pretty quickly: if you leave it to just sit until it dries the dirty stripper-muck sets where you mopped it and you’ll ruin the floor – reapplying stripper doesn’t remove the marks of the dirty stripper itself once it’s dried.

12:44 PM

I’ve gone ahead and bought a laptop, since there’s no share places in Blackheath this week anyhow and since that’s the final material want on my list out of the way: an actual computer I can use to start developing the site properly without fucking around with a tablet or phone – all I need now is the time to do it πŸ™‚

Done deal.

I’ve still got almost $800 left to get to work, feed myself and all the rest and I’ve already bought plenty of tobacco, recharged my phone data etcetera so it’s not like I blew my paycheck on the sucker and of course – though it’s sadly not USB chargeable – I can plug it in at the school all safely locked away in my cleaners cupboard anytime I like because I’m the only cleaner there and the only one who uses the room.

Excellent.

No clothes shopping this week is about the only negative but I’ve done plenty of that lately so whatevers 😎

8:37 PM

I’m on my second glass of alcoholic sleeping tonic and god it tastes good: what honey spiced mead would taste like if it were a much more concentrated and purified 40% spirit.

Anyway I’ve got a taxi driver who’ll regularly since me to work with a capped price of $30 but that’s also door to door: no need to walk up Katoomba street to the train station anymore – just right outside.

He’s given me his card with the mobile number on it and said to give him a call in the morning, so I will.

I can’t get my phone to act as a mobile hotspot for the laptop or rather; it’s not allowing it internet access and I don’t have time to fuck around with it now though I’ve played around with the laptop itself and it’s pretty fuckin sexy for the money: I didn’t throw $1,200+ at one of the beastly gaming laptops, but spent just $600 on a basic hp with 8gb ram and a basic radeon graphic card which is a slight upgrade over the other models that had only the little intel graphic cards in them.

This takes some of the processing workload off the CPU so apps and videos run better without the pricetag of the gaming laptops, but also without the grunt which is perfectly fine: primarily I wanted a laptop that’ll do the net, the site and the apps that’ll go with them well and the one I got has more than enough under the hood to do those things fast and without causing any frustration and again I’ve got that with plenty leftover and the keyboard is lovely to type with – so soft and quiet.

Of note is if I had forked-out for a gaming laptop, I would’ve done nothing but play games on it and that’s not what I want it for so it was a very smart purchase – I comprised with my greedy impulsive side and got a device that can do more than I actually need it to but not so much more that I’d feel stupid for overspending just for something as trivial as a gaming machine 😏

Also of note the fact that while it’s more than fast enough to work beautifully as a workstation for the site and writing and reading and image editing, it’s not so expensive that it’s too precious to actually use: at $600 I can just chuck it in my backpack and take it anywhere without having myself in anxiety attack about it copping a scratch or getting dirty or dusty.

Perfect.

As for the school, there’s plenty of little bits and peices I could write just about today and none of it bad in the slightest, but it’s 9:30 now and I’ve gotta go to sleep.

I like it though.

I like the staff, the staff like me, the kids like me and they’re growing on me since they’re not smart arse little dickheads but pretty well behaved if not pretty high energy: just this morning a few of the kindergarten kids were playing “stay away from the scary vacuum-cleaner” while I was sucking sand up off the steps inside the main block, but not for long enough to get annoying.

I like that for the first two hours every day I’ve got the entire school to myself and can smoke in the school yard, drink coffee and take my time while I wake-up fully and I like that other six hours each day I’m surrounded by teachers who’re 95% women who constantly thank me for doing shit I get paid to do anyway and I’ve learnt to stop pointing that out and simply respond with an equally polite and socially acceptable variant of “You are welcome”

It’s a pretty cute little school, I suppose πŸ™„

Friday, 6th March 2020

9:30 AM

Today during my middle of the day wait for the afternoon shift I’ve gotta grab a cheap bluetooth mouse and ctrl+x the last several days into a new post and sort my phone out as a hotspot.

Again I scored a good 5 hours sleep last night though I did wake-up once to hang a piss so I couldn’t call it a solid sleep but whatever I feel excellent compared to the first three days this week.

I even bothered to wipe the admin office chicks desks, monitors and other surfaces this morning while I was in there vacuuming and opened the gates for said admin chicks before they got there so I didn’t have to do it themselves 😎

11:25 AM

You’d think all the ‘aged care’ facilities shut down and let the geriatrics loose in town with the amount of wrinkled old fuckers filling the library today.

God they’re depressing: all sagging aand wrinkled and half dead – dragging their worn-out bodies around looking miserable.

Pisses me off a bit – just having to see them everywhere.

And I’ve fixed the adult toilet in the parent’s change-room at Coles, then ripped the ‘out of order’ sign the idiot cleaner had stuck to the door.

Yeah don’t mention it mums with their kids who instantly have a toilet again because of me – “You are welcome”

Guerrilla Plumbing.

I only went in there to do my hair but had to twist the lock open with the flat side of a key because the dumb cunt had it locked shut when all they had to do was lift the tank lid off and screw the assembly back in place: literally just twist it back on is all I had to do yet that idiot cleaner downstairs would’ve left the toilet locked for days until some overpriced plumber finally got their fat arse out and twisted the valve back in place like I did then charged $300 for that horseshit.

12:34 PM

I’ve sorted my hotspot issue and am using my phone to add this right now matter of fact, so there we go: all, functionally sweet.

What’s not sweet is how many flat-out unattractive women are around today it’s fucking bow-wow central fuck it and you can think what a fuckhead I am for being shallow, but whether it’s a national park or a public library I’d rather visually appealing things surrounding me: for the former I don’t want to be in a rainforest that’s full of dead, shriveled-up weeds – I want lush, green and healthy plants.

Same with urban settings: I want attractive women around – I don’t want to even talk to them, I just like pretty opposed to ugly – call me sick in the head yknow, fark.

All we’ve got here are 70 year old women; women with limps; women with salt & pepper grandma hair; one sitting over there who looks like a fucking bean-bag in a dress and that’s it: no hot tourist chicks adorning the place at all.

I gotta go to work again soon too and I’ve gotta pack up to go find something to eat before I do because there’s very limited options for food in Blackheath.

Don’t get me wrong: what there is in Blackheath, is better than it’s parallel here in Katoomba without exception – whether it’s coffee, meat pies or sandwiches.

I had a roast-beef sandwich from the ‘gourmet’ sandwich place in Blackheath a few days ago in fact and there was no grimy Indian dripping sweat in my food, no half wilted salad like at the vietnamese bakeries here in town and for $10 I got a sandwich that was 4″ thick with salad so fresh it crunched and half of that thickness was meat do they weren’t stingey on any of the fillings.

The bakery there – though it annoys me with that cash-only bullshit – still has the best meat pies I’ve had anywhere in the mountains.

And the cafes: there’s only three in Blackheath on that little stretch of shop fronts yet all three make genuinely good coffee, while here in Katoomba I can’t think of a single coffee place that makes a cup reliably well – usually because they’ve got teenage girls acting as baristas who don’t drink coffee so have no idea how to make it.

Even Old-Brian annoys me now: he’s here at the library and though I haven’t talked to him at all, I’ve seen him shamble up and down the length of the library several times in a few minutes now – like he’s just hobbling around trying to get noticed by anyone who’ll ahh him how he’s going, which you needn’t do – you’ve only gotta glance at him too see he looks like shit.

Fortunately I’ll get a reprieve from this steaming pile of shit town soon and spend a few hours in an attractive town with attractive women who’re sweet enough to thank me for every little thing I do.

I’ll get a sandwich there before work instead of rolling the dice on garbage food places here.

Satay-chicken sandwich, toasted, and I know it’ll be good because the yuppies here won’t tolerate any less…

As I predicted, it was excellent: though the pile of chicken looks like plain cooked chicken, the satay sauce is against the bread yeah awesome.

Had to stuff it down super quick though – 20 minutes late for work by the time I’d ordered and brought it with me 😑

7:00 PM

Finally, the week is done and I get to not drip sweat at any time for a whopping two solid days! πŸ™„

I almost stopped to order take-away for dinner but decided to not be arsed: I’ve already eaten something perfectly healthy this afternoon so I just grabbed some garlic bread on the way through while stopping for milk anyway, and I haven’t drunk UHT or powdered milk for months now – given I’m out anyway and UHT milk still ends up going down the drain when it’s no longer drinkable, I’ve just reverted to fresh milk but still an awful lot gets wasted without a fridge.

No point crying over, milk, now is there.

I told my favourite kindergarten teacher this afternoon, how discontented I’ve quickly become upon having to return to Katoomba every day after spending a minimum of eight hours in Blackheath every weekday and finding there’s no sign of human filth hanging around the street scabbing shit from strangers: no ‘got a spare smoke’, no ‘got give bucks I can have?’, no buskers expecting money for playing shit nobody ever asked them to play and no gaunt junkies shuffling around the main street.

Her daughter was sticking her fingers in power-points or whatever about then so her attention shifted instantly to the kid, which was okay: I’d only just started the classroom bins at that point so didn’t wait around to continue my opining but simply walked out and returned later to vacuum, though I’d forgotten about it by then and was talking about other things when I came back later.

But, as chatty as I’ve been I’ve also been conscious of the fact that a little me goes a long way: I don’t want to talk to her so much that my doing her classroom while she’s there

Gotta remember to trim my hair this weekend, and to take my window cleaning stuff in on monday because the glass all around the admin block is absolutely fucken’ feral with finger-prints, dust, grime and even whole face-marks.

I told the admin women I have given it a go with just the standard window spray and paper towels but they’re way too filthy for that to work at all – it’ll just take too long.

Much nicer with a nice keyboard and auto-spellcheck.

The only single inconvenience right now about the laptop is that all my photos are taken with and located on my phone, but there’s an app I can install from Microsoft that allows Windows 10 to sync all my photos from my phone via Bluetooth, so once I get around to installing that and setting it up I’ll be able to just upload directly from my phone since I have it connected as a hotspot for the net anyhow.

Oh and the battery/wall-charging thing – that’s an actual thing for sure but there’s nothing can be done about that: I could’ve gone with a much smaller 10″ detachable windows ‘surface’ tablet-with-keyboard-thing that would’ve been USB chargeable and cheaper, but it wasn’t a windows branded device – rather a cheap ripoff from some brand called Leader, which is as bad as Acer or “Home Brand Cocoa Puffs” – they’re never half as good as the big-name brands so it had to be Hewlett Packard.

The battery is currently on 86% of course, so I’ll be at the library tomorrow at some point if you want to come and give me stupid looks like *I’m* the idiot like you did an hour ago – this time there was no spark of “Ooo Ooo it’s her!”, no desire to follow – no desire to even interact.

All my brain echoed at me was “Oh yuck: it’s the slut who spent half a decade doing anything to make me feel like shit. “ then the thought I’d wish I’d have used the crossing I just walked past so I didn’t have to lay eyes on the most twisted version of a power-couple I’ve had the misfortune of knowing: a parent and child so neurotic they literally behave like boyfriend and girlfriend in every aspect of their daily life.

So go ahead and smirk at me like a smart cunt all you like: I’ve still got plenty of personal growth ahead of me – you’ll always be the same boring, sneaky cunt you’ve always been.

A talent-less breeder who thinks, speaks and acts like every other talent-less breeder and kids herself into thinking her hairstyle or where she shops make her unique as a person knowing all the while there’s nothing else to define her from anyone else.

Just another duplicated cell in the petri-dish of contemporary society.

You see my writing’s already improved?

Not only can I let my fingers automatically push thoughts to the page without the frustration of constant typing errors, but without the phone incorrectly auto-predicting – hijacking what I’m writing – why I get to choose my own words and how those words are arranged without any annoyance or aggravation whatsoever and best of all – I can type with two hands as fast as I think.

Perfect.

Anyway that’s enough talking about a stain on my life that’s ancient history now: I’ve got real-life genuinely kind human-beings who’re worth writing about all of a sudden and a lot of them, plus that garlic bread’s getting no hotter still in the shopping bag.

I should’ve bought biscuits..

9:18 PM

First order of business: buying a full subscription to Adobes Photography Suite: free trial for the first month, then $9/month gets me the full desktop versions of both Photoshop and Lightroom – the latter of which is the best software for organizing photos I’ve ever had the pleasure of using and the former needs no introduction at all, being the industry standard for over 30 years.

Photoshop 2020

More polished than ever and certainly slicker than it was five years ago when I was using Photoshop CS on my last laptop.

The mobile version I’ve been using on my phone since that time is peerless: there’s no other apps that can seriously compete with the original but the full desktop version? They’ve polished that up to the point it’s practically a work of art in software form – it’s just so refined.

Lightroom 2020

Back when I had just bought the phone I still have – the Galaxy S7 – and I was spending three days at a time in Leura Forest just to get some privacy from the constant public living I was doing, I took all these gorgeous photos I’d planned to print and try to sell at the markets out front of the church of scabs: many people suggested it, but when I asked who was going to pay-up for the photos to actually be printed, they all just mumbled shit and nobody wanted to help with that so they didn’t happen.

But of course, I downloaded Lightroom and Photoshop mobile and paid for a subscription then, and all the photos I added to Lightroom were automatically uploaded and stored on the cloud space adobe give you when you’re paying for the software.

Little did I know that over two years later – long after allowing my subscription to expire – adobe still kept them stored: I assumed they’d be deleted after xx number of months of the account not being paid but nope – soon as I installed and opened it tonight, all the photos I’d taken were right there safely tucked away waiting for me.

All 129 photos: there’s some here I’d forgotten about ever taking including this..

And a bunch of others that just don’t look as good as that.

I’m going to bed anyhow: the laptop’s down to 30% and I’m at about 5% myself and I don’t want to sleep in tomorrow or I’ll end up getting no sleep for Monday morning because my sleep-pattern will be ruined again.

You know it’s almost as if the universe has gifted me a fateful opportunity recently to wipe the past several years of bullshit: first I’m in the right place at exactly the right time to score a full-time site where everyone loves me; then after I’ve accepted to take-on the site permanently I find out there’s no way to get there every morning other than an ongoing taxi expense that cannot continue indefinitely and then the realization that moving up the mountain to a new town is the only logical way of facilitating my actually working there long-term.

I’m being handed a crystal clear opportunity to leave the past 5 years behind along with all the shit memories of it and start in a fresh town where I can just forget any of it ever happened.

The universe is doing me a solid favour and all I’ve gotta do is go and resume my fresh new life and answer “Katoomba? Oh, I only go there to do shopping.”

Not only a fresh new town, but a much nicer one with only half the population of Katoomba and with a full-time job already there in that tiny little town.

Like, I’m getting upgraded to a better postcode and a better life there as compensation for the last half decade of crap.

Thank you, Karma.

Saturday, 7th March 2020

10:40 AM

My legs are uncharacteristically tired this morning: not sore at all, but lazy – like they really didn’t want to stand up and walk out the door or walk anywhere else.

They have walked well over 100,000 steps this week so y’know it’s not like they haven’t earned a break so I’ll give them that over the weekend as much as possible and they’ll be feeling panther-like again by Monday, hopefully.

That’s an average of around 3,000,000 steps a month.

12:07 PM

Thanks to the barista at Anonymous making me coffee and experimenting with what exactly “warm enough to scull” should be defined as, we’ve arrived at a temperature of 50Β°C so I no longer need to gamble on individual coffee-machine bitches here in Katoomba taking the request for warm coffee and creating a coffee with such an ambiguous and unreliable outcome.

50Β°C is a constant measurement not open to interpretation so that’s good I’ve finally found the right temperature to always get a coffee that’s perfectly warmed.

It’s a good thing to know: I’m paying for that coffee there’s no reason I should have to put up with shit so hot I can barely hold the cup let alone burning shit outta my mouth and I don’t order coffees for the thrill of carrying them around for half an hour until they’re finally ready to drink.

2:30 PM

That didn’t take much messing around and my phone is now linked so I can access everything on my S7 from the mm G7: no more having to pick up the phone just to upload photos while I’m in the middle of editing a post – just upload directly from the phone.

I can even compose and send text messages from the laptop …

Course my Mother has been in touch for the usual dross, and like always she’ll feign interest with a ‘How’s work?’ and also like always, if she was interested the site is there with detailed daily accounts of how work and everything else is going but if I tell her to go read it she’ll tell me she would prefer to find out directly when the truth is she’s just too mentally dull and lacks the intelligence to be in any way inquisitive enough to read anything at all really, so I shoot her a boring one line text response (Good. Full-time on casual rates) and that’s the end of that.

Not that I care – I’d rather not waste my time responding to texts from anybody I’m not interested in myself in the first place because, well, I’m not interested, but if I simply ignore her periodic text she’ll send another and another until I type some shit to shut her up.

If she wasn’t so dumb, maybe there’d be some kind of inclination on my part to want to interact with the woman but I’ve never seen any kind of mental spark present in the 40+ years I’ve been alive: the only things that interest her are television, knitting, bingo and eating – never anything that might require a person to use their brain at all.

As a result, you end up with a person who’s spent so much of their life being utterly brain-dead there’s just nothing to ever discuss with somebody like that: it’s like she had a full frontal lobotomy decades ago there’s just absolutely nothing going on upstairs.

My laptop’s fully charged now so I can leave and go shopping then home to .. you know I wonder whether Big-W would have rechargable battery packs that’re specifically for laptops instead of just the usual USB ones: you cannot charge with a USB cord but I’ll guarantee they do sell power-packs to wirelessly charge laptops, though I very much doubt you’ll find them at a bogons-paradise like Big-W.

The computer shop here in town might have something like this, but then probably wouldn’t have a lot of requests since most people have power-points to charge their laptops plus they’re closed today and I know you’d be able to order them online at a dozen different online stores but I’m not that patient.

I’d much rather use this beautiful soft-touch keyboard to write than swipe my finger around that little phone screen, but I know when I go back to the flat the battery will run low pretty fast regardless the power-saving options I enable mm.

I’ll look for any share place to move into around next payday regardless whether it’s in Katoomba, Blackheath or Mount Victoria: just hand a wad of cash to whoever’s got the room so I can have power-points again.

The Maxi-Taxi driver who’s driving me to work weekdays now from door-to-door for a set $30 mentioned the other day he wants to get someone to help pay his rent, though he’s in Mount Victoria and Mount Victoria has just fucking nothing at all – a pub and some pine trees – like a town that people started to build until they all decided it wasn’t worth it and abandoned the joint but most critically, I don’t want to have to shop for food in Katoomba then fuck around on a train to get it home.

Blackheath at least has a general store, cafes and decent food places which means I’ll at least have the option to buy dinner then to just bring home a snack or milk from the general store.

Still well see how keen I am next payday.

I get along well enough with the taxi driver, but I want Blackheath and Blackheath wants me: that’s where I’ll be working a full-time permanent split shift every day and that is where I want to live.

Fuck Katoomba and fuck the junkies, losers, weirdos and all the nasty disease-laden sluts that live there: 40% of the adult population are infected with herpes and because herpes is a skin virus that affects the entire groin there’s nothing at all a condom can do to protect either person from an infected specimen.

You could easily moniker herpes ‘The Sluts Rash’, since mere skin contact with anyone who’s infected will score you a pussy groin rash for the rest of your life and when I think about the women I’ve been with, every one of them spent their lives in committed relationships and none of them were in any way slutty: neither the women I’ve been with or myself have ever contracted such an embarrassing and disgusting infliction as herpes because neither they nor I treated sex like casual fun and when you’re only fucking the one person for half a decade at a time you not only get very comfortable with one another so stop worrying about ‘missing-out’ on sampling different people, you’re also never exposed to all the filth out there that sluts are spreading around.

Nobody wants a woman who sneak-fucks anyone or those women wouldn’t to go to so much effort to be so ‘discreet’ in order to keep how disgusting they really are a secret.

I fucking hate slutty women: whether they’re fat and ugly or thin and beautiful, women who let any man who seems nice enough help themselves are cheap, worthless slappers.

Actually you know, man OR woman: being a free and easy fuck is cheap and disgusting no matter who you are.

Conversely, being hard to get is the sexiest thing on earth: it’s all about exclusivity and rarity – diamonds wouldn’t be so valuable if they were as common as glass and everyone could have a sack-full.

And that’s why easy-lay sluts are so revolting: they’re common as dirt -there’s nothing special about sticking your dick somewhere other people get to stick their dicks.

It’s only when you know that you are the only one that a woman becomes sexually valuable.

Glad I unpacked and dissected that thought process because I do believe I got to the bottom of it all: I want a genuine, rare diamond not shitty costume jewelry and I’ll sure as shit never be gullible enough to let someone convince me their cheap costume jewelry is really the rare diamond I’m after.

YOU are the synthetic Cubic Zirconia.

I am the Heart of Eternity.

8:22 PM

Fishburgers for dinner, with Heinz creamy tartar on Brioche buns, and while I’m busy cooking then eating that I’ve got software dowloading since I’ve got about 80gbs of data – effectively unlimited since I’ll never use that much in one month – and the laptop battery is being drained anyway so I may as well get the fucker to do something opposed to sitting here bone-idle.

Bone-idle like half the population of this fucking town.

9:05 PM

Fuck, I just downloaded Dreamweaver with the intention to purchase the subscription for that as well as Photoshop, but where Photoshop is $9.95/month, Dreamweaver is a whopping $29.95/month!

Dreamweaver was the software that taught me most of what I know about web-design and it did it by using a very slick IDE (Integrated Development Environment) that exposed me to HTML, CSS and PHP all at once and after fucking around with in for a while I started picking up the PHP and well, CSS didn’t take long to get the hang of since it’s simply code that lists rules telling the web browser how to format and layout all the various HTML elements within a page, though I didn’t understand what the fuck it was until I started using it since it was new at the time and prior to CSS you’d simply have to include the colour, size, font-face, width, height etcetera manually in the HTML itself but you’d have to type it out every, single, time you added anything to the page yeah. The “good old days” in the context of web-design as it was in the late nineties was NOT really very good until the W3C developed the web standards like CSS and standardized HTML tags and XML for the net – before that, all the different web browsers used their own slightly different versions of HTML and so web pages (that were ALL literally just *.html files back then) would never look the same across all browers and wouldn’t even load in a readable format in some cases.

I gotta go cook my fishburgers,

No, I haven’t done it yet because the downloads downloaded much faster than I expected so were installed before I had a chance to get up and go start cooking and I ended-up playing instead of cooking …

But yeah I used to just adore Dreamweaver because it allowed you to learn by doing and because it pooled all the various aspects of web-design into one single window which meant there was never the need to switch between software or have 5 different windows open continually..

To explain it in a way someone who’s not familiar with web-design or programming at all can understand: just like Windows acts as the operating system that allows you to run all the software you need to check email, write invoices, read websites or google searches, compose letters in word or do your banking online, Dreamweaver pulled all the various technologies of web-design into one software package so you didn’t need a seperate text editor to change your CSS stylesheet rules; you could just right-click the text in the live-preview within Dreamweaver and select “Edit CSS..” then a little panel would change in the right of the window and you’d change it.

That’s still not the best comparison, but I can’t think of anything that’s computer-related that’s a better one: Dreamweaver lets you handle everything about a website from one window with options and panels and it’s so intuitive with it’s interface you never get frustrated using the software.

Maybe yeah fuck it I’ll pay the $29 anyway: I can always just stop paying later.

Fish.

Sunday, 8th March 2020

8:53 PM

What a lovely day.

I’d even say I feel serene this morning.

Woke-up at around 7:00 AM and – realizing it was Sunday – additionally realized that I don’t have to wake up yet; so I have a piss then a smoke then went back to bed for an hour or so.

Wake up again just 20 minutes ago and realize I’ve got everything I need so don’t need to hurry into town for anything then look out the window and see that thick mist of fog outside.

My legs feel rested again and all I’ve gotta do is trim my hair and shave for tomorrow, then I realize that I don’t even have to walk up the hill to the station in the morning: just take a few steps outside and wait to be driven right to the school gates.

I should add here that although I was deeply stressed last week just thinking about paying so much in taxi fares to get to work, I’m seeing the benefits and have to say it’s worth every penny: to start your day every morning walking two kilometers up-hill at four in the morning just to wait in the cold for a bus or train really sucks.

A taxi is a much softer way to start the day especially given I’m still no where near fully awake when I walk out the door at that time and not only do I get immeasurably more comfortable for my $30 than walking to the station, I can control exactly what time I arrive at work instead being at the mercy of a train schedule.

I’ll have to edit this legible later but the other thing that’s calming: last week the weekend seemed to be over in a snap and I was at work again before I even felt like I’d rested.

This weekend, I’m ready for the week to start because I’m settling-in and like being at the site now I’ve got my basic routine squeezed-down into a faster, more efficient clean and am beginning to find time to pickup the other little bits I’ve gotta do.

1:47 pm

And here we are again – the library.

The redhead is here right opposite me who’s strapped into her PHD studies about glitches within the human brain and agrees with me that the stupid drum noises are a bit annoying, there’s a gorgeous looking chick to my right who looks almost a dead ringer for Jessica Mauboy.

Hell I even managed to deliver a pretty smooth line to another local woman while we were standing there just waiting for the elevator up, by spontaneously turning to her and demanding to know whether she’s stalking me and landed it with a completely straight face.

She laughed at that then started making small talk and cracked a joke about the corona-virus, which I’d mentioned inside the elevator yesterday when I stated that several people have told me they couldn’t buy toilet-paper a few days ago because the supermarkets had sold out, which I addressed by underlining that as proof of just how stupid the masses really are.

“It’s NOT a gastro outbreak; it’s NOT the zombie apocalypse we all *know* is coming. Hell it doesn’t even have a sexy *name* and surely, yeah, you would THINK that if the brain-dead masses *are* going to freak-out and start hoarding anything *food* would be their number one priority but human beings are fking ridiculous

She agreed and yeah, she was surprisingly agreeable all-round.

It’s because I’ve got a new haircut, you see.

Rather than procrastinate and not have time later I cut it this morning just before coming into town then washed the snippy bits of loose hair out and brushed it before getting dressed and leaving.

I have noticed that I didn’t give the back-right side as much attention as the back-left, but rather than ruin it by quickly hacking to even it out I’ve left it for now but plan to grab a pair of cheap shitty scissors while I’m in town then finalize the awesome later when I get home: I’ll only have a few finishing snips so that won’t take much time and I’ll have perfect hair for my women tomorrow.

The redhead always has perfect hair goodness … though I’d probably be pretty safe to assume she doesn’t cut her own and it’s fine, straight hair anyway so it’s naturally pretty neat I guess.

Tiny, petite frame too.

I’m going out for a smoke since I’m flanked by women who know this is my stuff and will prevent anyone stealing it – then I’ll come back and purchase that Dreamweaver subscription.

Done.

At the very least I’ll be able to learn the new technologies that’ve popped into existence without my knowing while I’ve been using WordPress on a mobile phone with my thumb, and updating my knowledge is worth $29/month plus – it’s not like I’m one of the masses of worthless unemployed in this town who bum around wasting their days pretending not to care about the fact they could be doing something that’s actually useful enough for someone to pay them for their time.

And above all else, I earn almost $5,000/month and have no kids, pets or other dependents draining my finances so I can buy whatever the fuck I feel like buying – which of course, I do πŸ€‘

Another benefit of freshly cut hair – I was just thinking – is the dried, damaged ends are removed and my hair always feels and looks fucking great afterwards.

Like brand-new hair 😊

I’ve also googled the lock shortcut for windows, because my laptop is way too cheap to have a dedicated key – which is fine I can buy a top-shelve device later – and the result is Windows + L.

Windows + L instantly locks the screen so I can go have a smoke without anyone seeing what I’m doing, which isn’t really much but y’know it’s a public library – nobody wants to leave their computer unlocked in a public place no matter how humdrum what they’re doing happens to be.

Gotta fuck off anyhoo the library bell’s about to ring and I’ve got scissors plus milk to buy before I go home.

Can’t wait to move outta this pretentious cess-pit and up to Blackheath: I’ll be accumulating so many upgrades to life all at one time – simultaneously – I won’t even recognize myself.

My Life, Version 2.

4:59 PM

Voila we’re all done for the day.

I’ll just have a coffee then snip the last few uneven bits away and I’ll have the new hair yo match the new clothes again.

It’s the problem with standard office scissors: though they’re great when new, they lose their edge pretty fast and cutting my hair this morning the blades got stuck or couldn’t actually slice through even hair quite frequently so I’d have to just keep repeating the cut until they cut through.

Would’ve almost been wise to wait until now or at least more enjoyable – to cut all my hair with the new sharp pair.

Still enough typing I’ve got shit to do before shit I want to do and I’ve got to finish the other half a box of fish tonight as well as the dip and small single-serve sized honeycomb and toffee yogurt.

7:08 PM

God you know, Drambuie isn’t just palatable: it’s so nice I literally just suck a bit out the glass at a time and roll it around my mouth to get as much flavour as I can from each sip.

Like super-purified mead with the honey and spices.

I could note than happily start considering this a ‘needed’ consumable you know and I never even have more than three shots worth – usually only two – because it’s too nice to want to gulp just to get pissed.

At $60 a bottle it’s hardly boutique alcohol, but mm as a permanent expense thatit’s add up over time.

Think I might do that though because I can state definitively that I have absolutely no interest in getting pissed and certainly don’t want to get maggot-faced – I want to sleep well and alcohol makes that happen.

Done deal.

7:40 PM

Criminal is an excellent podcast: it’s not just about the typical serial-killer/heinous-crime that’s become so formulaic nowadays, but rather crimes from every point in the spectrum from disgusting rape and murder to book theives who annoy the entire global antiquarian book-collector community and everything in between with many episodes being more amusing than serious, but it’s always intelligent and thoughtful.

Problem is, I’ve listened to most episodes.

But the creators of criminal have released a new podcast I’ve switched over to that’s equally varied in it’s stories and approach to each episode and though the subject matter is one I didn’t think I’d be at all in the mood to listen to, I am and it’s just as good as Criminal.

This is Love is narrated by the same chick who narrates and co-creates Criminal – Phoebe Judge – and just like her other podcast, each episode of This is Love tells a story about the things people do – both good and bad – for love.

Episode 2 is about a woman encountering a baby whale while swimming and staying with him so he doesn’t get lost – and then the baby’s mother suddenly returns

Once you get a visual on the chick who was swimming, you’ll forgive the baby whale for mistaking her for its mother, of course.

Each episode is about half an hour, and so far so good.

I should hit on that chick I asked was stalking me today.

No I shouldn’t actually – what am I thinking she’s not my type: too nice; too tall; too plain; too receptive.

Just another Zirconia.

Anyway I’ve eaten my two fish-burgers for dinner and finished my hair two hours ago – I even used the clippers to get rid of the fuzz at the back of my neck and I’ll ask the women tomorrow whether it looks alright or whether I’ve butchered the back.

I’m taking my glass of the best-tasting 40% sleep tonic on earth and fuckin’ off to bed.

Wow I did a really good job of my hair: I was just feeling it – it’s so soft and uniformly even and I’ve got no idea how since all I did was feel it as I cut, but there’s not a single longer bit or tufts I missed – anywhere.

Maybe I’m just really good now at using my touch to gauge how long or short or even it is and how much needs to be cut still and where, I guess.

I am a remarkably tactile person after all.

Monday, 9th March 2020

10:06 AM

Lovely morning shift done.

Despite the classy 40% liqueur I still only got, lemme check..

… 4 hours sleep we can call it.

Though not because of anxiety about sleeping for once, but the prickly bits of shit from my haircut yesterday all irritating me, which is good in a way: changing my pillowcase before bed will rectify the issue for tonight and that’s something I can control.

Insomnia caused by anxiety about not getting to sleep on the other hand is a fucked-up mental loop that’s not got any simply fix.

Well alcohol works sure, but talking yourself down from getting shitty without drinking I mean – that’s not hot an easy fix.

So I’m tired, but not through a complete lack of sleep and I know I’ll sleep fine tonight do I’m not bothered by it for a change.

11:25 AM

I’m at the library but dunno whether I want to settle-in here or go get something to eat first mm.

I saw Mandy at Woolies half an hour or so ago.

She didn’t grin at me like a neurotic fucking weirdo she also didn’t, well, actually her facial expression looked saddened when she saw me.

Probably jealous of my hair.

Saw that other bitch the other day in the main street and she did grin at me like a neurotic fucking weirdo.

Two events that positively confirm why Blackheath’s the place for me because while I don’t feel anywhere near the same level of revulsion laying eyes on Mandy, I also don’t feel like intermittently bumping into either of those two: one I let down the other spend years being nothing but a letdown.

Who wants to be reminded of people who were simply black-spots from the past?

It’s not like these little social collisions are in any way endearing or constructive and I don’t care exceot that I’ve never had to tolerate living in the same small town as an ex before: once it’s finished with any other woman I’ve moved away completely and where some sentimental attachment might’ve once made me want to stay here in Katoomba, even that’s long gone now and the town itself is arguably the least “nice” town around here to be living in.

Sounds like I’m talking myself into moving somewhere else but that’s already been done: my heart and mind have already left – it’s only my physical self remaining and only because I haven’t pinned-down a place in Blackheath yet, though I’m willing to pay up to $300/week for a share palce so it’s just a matter of time now.

I just went and grabbed a coffee from the wanky cultural centre next door and saw the wheelchair freaks are all there parked around the carpet – that asian one is there with the appetite-killing facial features and I dunno what exactly is wrong with him but his whole head is covered in HUGE lumps, like golf-ball sized lumps: he’s the one with the hepatitis-yellow skin that always looks waxy man yuck- say what you like about me being a prick I really do lose my appetite when I see that one.

But that’s not what I was adding this bit for – it’s the ‘carers’ I wonder about..

There’s gotta be something wrong with anyone who’d want to do that for a job: can you even imagine it? Changing grown men’s nappies all day; wheeling them around; listening to them groan and moan; having to wipe the dribble and shit off their chin every time they eat? Having to smell their piss? Smell when theyve shit themselves?

Fuck no way.

They don’t even get paid well for it.

I’ve said all this before, but again they’re out there in the cultural center and every time I see them I get depressed just thinking about why anybody would allow things like that to go to term or really they should’ve just aborted the fetus back when they could instead of bringing a life into the world that’s only ever going to be sick, in pain, useless and a burden on everyone.

Fucking stupid, selfish parents.

Some lives really aren’t worth living – their lives are not worth living, when it’s no life at all: like if you had a puppy with two heads and only two legs you’d fucking put it down to save it a life of horrible, I don’t know WHY fucking idiots in society today insist that even the most defective humans should be born and kept alive if the only life they’ll ever have is a shit one.

People are brain-dead.

As if to prove me right yet again, you cannot buy hand-sanitizer in any of the supermarkets or even chemists in Katoomba, because the brain-dead idiots that are society have bought the shops out.

Again I scratch my head and wonder why the same idiots aren’t more concerned with hoarding food then scratch my head even harder when I consider that antibacterial wash of any kind isn’t going to kill a virus so why would the fuck-knobs buy it completely out of stock??

Oh right – because the majority of people are fucking brain-dead idiots! Of course!

Wonder why I don’t follow the average middle-class morons? There’s the proof why!

It’s simply not possible to be anything but an idiot when you parrot and follow the majority when the majority are fucking idiots!

7:10 PM

You know for the life of me I couldn’t decide which way to go with: they’re both 40%, they’re both universally well known and they’ve both been in production for centuries.. Drambuie or Cointreau …

Honey & Spices or Orange

Of course I got both: I don’t have time to stand in a shop having an OCD brain-fart about which bottle to get and they’ll both get drunk regardless because they’re both exceptionally high quality, very tasty liqueurs.

They’ll easily last me until next payday too realize, I think, though that last bottle of Drambuie didn’t last a full week – more like 4 nights – but I still didn’t chug it down or get pissed so I suppose 8 days is a good estimate.

$110 Γ· 8 = $13.75 per day

Hardly excessive.

9:14 PM

You see now: 2 shots drunk over an hour or so and I’m falling asleep sitting up to the point I had to close the laptop then come and get into bed, yet I’ve not drank enough thi be pissed and certainly haven’t had enough for any hangover.

I’ll be asleep half an hour from now for a good 5 hours: that’s well worth $13, especially when I have to go back and forth to Blackheath for two four-hour shifts tomorrow that don’t just involve cleaning, but also getting on with a whole school full of various people: I can’t afford to be disliked in a place packed with people most of the time I’m there.

Two four-hour shifts I have to deliver on – physically and socially.

Tuesday, 10th March 2020

10:22 AM

Six hours sleep last night!! Woowoo!!

I feel like a normal human-being and even felt well rested enough to crack the funnies and be charming this morning!

I almost walked head-on into the favourite as I turned into a classroom while vacuuming because I was focused on the floor and she let out a little squeak as I let out a little grunt and I even had the energy to give the death-stare to some old weirdo hanging around the front of the school.

I was out there having a smoke at around 8:30 AM when I spot this weirdo in a cowboy hat who looked a bit like a demented Slim Dusty.

At first I figured he could be a grandparent or some shit but then he’s looked up at me then looked down at the ground and started searching the grass like he’d lost something but walking slowly towards the school crossing as he’s doing that.

Then he’s looked up again and sees I’m just standing over the road staring directly at him so he’s pretended to look at the ground some more.

This went on several minutes and the longer it did, the more intently I watched him until he’s finally crossed the road towards the school gates when I start walking directly towards him and at about two meters away I call out at him, “ARE YOU A PARENT?”

*…

12:44 PM

Alright I’m calm since I’ve moved to the front of the library where there’s at least some attractive people in the mix and don’t have some fat cow constantly rustling her chubby hands around in a bag of food then quietly slipping things in her chubby mouth like that somehow gives her dignity in her compulsive, continual eating..

Disgusting bitch.

6:17 PM

A strange thing happened this afternoon that might indicate my favourite teacher has it bad for me.

Well, maybe not “bad” but that she’s got the hots for me to some extent – based on something her child did.

That Fly Agaric mushroom I took the photo of this morning was im the grass inside the kindergarten classrooms right.

This afternoon I saw another one twice the size and twice as puffy as the little one I photographed in the morning and when I saw it her daughter was out there just a few feet away as I’ve thought out loud, “That’s a perfect mushroom! I’ll take a photo of that later..”

About an hour later I was back there to vacuum the favourites classroom and I was just about to walk in and dump the vacuum cleaner on one the desks inside then come back out to take that photo, but when I’ve looked over I saw that perfect mushroom had been crushed!

So either her six year old is simply a little arsehole who goes around ruining shit for giggles or she’s picking up something from her mother that I’m oblivious to which has made the child jealous enough to destroy that mushroom when she knew I wanted it.

She does see her mum and I talking in the afternoon too, when I’m there either changing the bins or vacuuming the room and I can’t see any other reason she’d wanna go and decapitate a perfect magic mushroom – especially when I’d already told the kid I was coming back to take a pic of it.

Sure looks like the typical jealous only-child brat behavior and there’s no reason she’d be like that towards some guy who’s only talking to her mum for a few minutes each day unless there’s something her mother is giving off that I’m not aware of.

Especially in a school crammed with other students who’re all vying for her mums’ attention all day long and with other teachers and staff and parents who talk to her mum every day as well.

Wednesday, 11th March 2020

9:36 AM

The 9:02 AM train down the mountain didn’t show up this morning so I’ve got for a sandwich breakfast at, well I was going to go to the one I’ve been going to but it was far too busy so I tried the next ‘Gourmet’ sandwich bar along and got a smoked chicken and salad sandwich, which was as packed as any subway roll but made by white people who looked clean and only cost $8 so whatever it was great – most importantly, it killed a decent chunk of the full hour I had to wait for the next train which is mostly what I wanted it to do.

Before leaving the school this morning though I’m slipping my pack on and standing in the cleaners cupboard for a few moments just running a mental check-list to make sure I wasn’t leaving anything I needed behind, when the principal walks past.

a few moments later she’s come back and is standing outside the room telling me, ‘Good morning Jason’

“Ah, good morning?”

‘How are you?’

“Ahhhhh, good?” and she can tell I’m dubious of this spontaneous dropping by my cupboard just to say hello.

‘That’s all, I just wanted to say hi!’

“Really?”

‘Yes! You haven’t done anything wrong you’re fine – have a good day!’

“Oh! Okay sure, you too!”

I don’t know what it i.. no I do actually – it’s that *principal* thing: even as an adult there’s still that residual principal-authority thing and I still just assume everytime she talks to me unsolicited, that I’ve not done something I’m meant to or someone’s complained about one of the toilets running outta soapn or paper towels or toilet-paper.

The principal’s super nice though and hasn’t given me any reason whatsoever to think she’s going to scold me over something I’ve forgotten to do: I just expect it though, because she’s *the principal* yknow?

Kristen’s her name.

Nice woman: somehow she’s always chipper and happy and warm to everyone, every time I see her interacting with anybody – whether they’re students, parents, teachers or myself she’s somehow bubbly all the time.

She’s married and not quite my type even if she wasn’t, though she’s not unattractive and the ONLY reason I’m adding this paragraph is to dismiss what YOU would doubtlessly assume is my motivation for adding anything about her at all.

*I* really wasn’t thinking whatever you think I was thinking – she’s an excellent woman for the role of school principal, is all, though like I said I *always* think I’m in shit when she stops to engage me, which she’s done several times now just to say hi and be whatever – welcoming.

I already feel quite welcome though and I’ve even started asking other people “How are you?” because I’ve seen everyone else asks that and it makes them appear mm.. not genuinely caring..

More socially polished.

I’ve started mimicking that behavior myself, because it makes me look good.

12:22 PM

I just heard some fat, dumb bitch sitting next to me and on the phone to someone talking about the fucking corona virus, ‘Like, Beth said that Lisa said that if someone at school coughs on their hands then touches Timmy he can, like, get coroner virus!!’

Bet she’s one the idiots who’s bought the supermarkets out of toilet-paper, hand-sanitizer and now even rice has a 2kg per customer limit at Woolies: Australians don’t even fucking like rice! it’s a novelty grain we have with some novelty topping when we’re feeling like a change from the standard staple dinners every night.

I’m sick of hearing about that fucking virus

None of this constitutes bettering my knowlerdge of web-design.

Though there’s three or four hours each weekday at the library that’s really not a lot of time to be opening pages, reading, copy-pasting and actually absorbing enough to learn and neing in the library means I don’t know from what day to the next what kind of mentally ill come-stains I’m going to find here.

Today I’ve got that fucking idiot who’s always got the same red jumper and dumb beanie on who comes in here just to read the newspapers like fucking rainman and the cunt never stops talking to himself the entire time he’s sitting here: on and on and on the dickhead goes mumbling shit to himself about whatever rubbish he’s reading.

Then there’s the spastics, the squealing brats, the single-mothers day-out events, the fags who sit and stare at me, the fags who sit and talk for an hour about where they’re going to go for lunch when they leave here.

Worst of them all though is this dickhead who talks to himself because ALL I want to do is tell him to shut the fuck up – all ANYONE wants to do is tell him to shut the fuck up: what sort of sad, lonely sack of shit sits in a public place and mumbles whole conversations to himself while everyone else is trying to concentrate on whatever they’re reading – or writing.

But if I tell him to shut the fuck up he’d get all pissy like a bitch, the librarians would blame *me* for causing a scene and most detrimentally the cunt would KNOW that his babbling pisses me off which means he’d be able to sit and mumble to himself even more just to fucking piss me off.

I wish he’d just die – he’s old enough to drop of a sudden heart attack at any moment but he won’t, so the only two options I’ve got are a) shuddup myself and quietly stew over the noises the idiot makes or b) tell him “Will you SHUT the fuck UP you sad, lonely fucking IDIOT!” and then I get told to leave the library for being aggressive.

Stupid old cunt.

Cheap too: what’s it like, $1 for a paper? Yet he’s in here every day sponging his free news from the library.

So how do I use the four hours I’ve got to actually focus and learn when the 60-year-old geriatric Forest Gump over there just fucking pissing me off with his senility the whole time?

Thankfully I’ve gotta leave now and go to work, but tomorrow the pointless old waste of space will be in here again talking to himself like a sad fuck while the rest of us just want to concentrate on what we’re doing.

Remind me to charge my laptop when I get to work.

Course you can’t: you’re just a lurker on a website who’s no practical use to me at all and even as a reader you never engage.

Without even being engaging, what are you?

A ghost? A faceless browser?

Ultimately, you’re no more than a pair of eyeballs to me.

That’s all.

I’m on the train to Blackheath, yet all I wanna be is on the train back, because the train back means I don’t have to do any more cleaning for the day..

3:53 PM

A pair of eyeballs and a thumb *shrug*

7:20 PM

You wanna start being REALLY convincing and REALLY dedicated – instantly and perpetually – if you want me to even humour the idea of thinking about you again at all, because I’ve got no trust, attachment or sentimentality for you and no reason to want to resume something that never even existed in any useful way.

There was never even any ‘good old days’ to leverage as an emotional hook.

You figure out how: I gave up caring either way quite a while ago now.

Right then – we’ll just call that an emotional heart-fart on your part.

.

Lasagna and piss.. sorry, sleep tonic..

Well, lasagna as soon as the garlic bread is heated and the lasagna has cooled enough to eat, but I can start on the Drambuie while I wait.

I do like the Cointreau, but still the Drambuie is my favourite of the two.

Might go in earlier tomorrow.

By earlier I mean start at the right time instead of going in half an hour late

Fuck it, I’m getting cold.

BOTH my duck down jackets are in the cleaners cupboard at the school because I haven’t had an afternoon that’s been cold enough to wear them back and don’t want to carry them.

Thursday, 12th March 2020

11:00 AM

There’s brunch.

Not the chicken obviously – the chicken’s irrelevant – they just didn’t have the little mini nougat eggs so I had to get the full-sized one and though they’re a bit sweet for my liking with the chocolate (a thin coating of dark choc would suffice) I like the nougat inside though I’m unsure why.

Probably some subconscious memory of the bygone era when Darrell Lea used to had actual stores and were the height of confectionery sophistication.

And here’s y.. well I can’t rightfully use this as a dig about your mother because the rusted-metal dog has infinitely more personality and has obviously aged better…

*…

I could examine my own sperm with this ..

Only $70 too!

12:59 PM

I got fifteen minutes to sit down before I’ve gotta get up and go get the train again.

Fourteen.

6:05 PM

Right so I get to work this afternoon and open the sign-in book to see a sticky-note from the principal.

I’ve had two of these so far, both just telling me either soap or paper-towels have run out – whatever that’s fine.

Today’s sticky said several things, all related to the carpets and once I’d read it I start folding it up then see there’s more on the back of the square of paper, ‘Also, several teachers have said that their classrooms haven’t been vacuumed thoroughly’ or something very similar but I don’t seem to have the note on me now so can’t copy it word-for-word but that’s what it said.

I didn’t utter a word to anyone after that, until finally vacuuming the classroom of one the teachers I get along impeccably well with, when I held-up the vacpac head and showed her “This should put an end to the teachers *squealing* about their carpets being imperfectly spotless”

Then I told them I need to find out WHO squealed, so I know whose likeness to make the voodoo dolls in and so I know who’s desks to wipe with the cloth I use on the toilets.

I then backpedaled and said I that was a joke about the toilet cloth, though cleaners really do that “Only for someone you really, REALLY loathe and I don’t even dislike anyone here”

I have done it too, but only for one arsehole out of the thousands of people at all the various sites I’ve cleaned.

Still I probably could’ve left that bit about the toilet-cloth-desk out: the wrong staff-member hears that and they could well get paranoid enough to complain about THAT to the principal too.

Then again, nobody likes squealers, though I will really have to learn to take criticism better than ahh, that.

Especially not when I’ve explained to most of the teachers that the standard pac-vac vacuum heads are so smooth they’re absolutely rubbish for vacuuming carpets – they just don’t LIFT things off the pile and I’ve gotta resort to using my shoe until I get frustrated enough to just move onto the next room and leave the previous one as it was.

But this afternoon while digging around in a large box full of old vacuum cleaner heads, I found one that’s unlike any pacvac head I’ve ever seen – yet it’s unmistakably made by them.

I’ll take a photo tomorrow morning, because this vacuum head should be the standard for new vac-pacs yet I’ve never seen one before and there was only one of these heads in the box of old ones: it’s got a row of stiff bristles alone the front where the thin strip of plastic is in all the default ones, which scratches the pencil shavings, eraser particles and even small bits of caked-on food which is sucked up so much faster – I didn’t have to use my foot once all afternoon over 10 classrooms.

It really will stop the squealers, because it actually works – the new heads just slide over the shit without lifting it from the carpet at all.

and I probably would never have known a vacuum head like that existed expect that the last cleaner had obviously hoarded them all in a box for 47-odd years.

*…

7:16 PM

Tonight’s podcast is this weeks episode of Stuff to Blow your Mind: Invertebrate Emotions – Part 1

Friday, 13th March 2020

9:28 AM

Here’s the mystery vacuum-cleaner head that actually works on carpet – only one of its kind in the box and the only one I’ve ever seen…

Exactly the same as a standard vacpac head, but with the front strip of plastic replaced by a strip of perforated brush that flicks pencil shavings, crushed leaves and dried grass off the carpet.

No fallout from that whole threatening to find out who the squealers are so I can toilet-brush their desks, though it hasn’t had a chance to get around yet.

11:14 AM

Awesome: the mumbler’s here.

I mentioned this to one of the teachers the other afternoon while changing the bins and he said he’d wanna punch the old fool and wouldn’t that be nice to see.

I’d be happy just to verbally tear a strip or two off him but of course in such an ultra-tolerant society everyone is free to be all the annoying fuckhead the can possibly be and everyone else is not allowed to do anything but plug earphones in and be quiet about it.

As I was leaving the school this morning I hear the teacher who looks like Joanna Briggs on the phone to someone smile and hold a finger up at me to wait a minute, then I hear her say, ‘Yes, oh okay that’s fine the cleaner’s here right now so I’ll tell him …’

I mime to her **No I’m gone!** as I hold the sign-in book up and waggle it around to demonstrate I’ve already signed-out,t but a moment later she’s hung-up the phone and told me one of the parents has said that one of the toilets is out of soap and what with this evidently terrifying virus on the loose we can’t be too careful so could I go and make sure there’s soap in whatever toilet it was.

“Oh, right yeah sure okay that’s easy-fixed”, then I had to go around and check every soap dispenser in the school to make sure they all had soap which is a standard cleaner duty – don’t get me wrong – and I do check them every two or three days, but since all the horseshit paranoia about the virus they’ve been going through soap just stupid-fast.

After I’d gone around and checked every toilet, I’ve returned to the office to report to Joanna Briggs that there’s soap in every toilet, plus told her I’d left two new containers of the stuff in the staff-room in case they run out again then opined “I swear they must be drinking the soap it’s running out so fast”

Something else I was told this morning gave me a chance to be empathetic and understanding which all gives me +Reputation there so that’s good: good to build-up the positive points to counter the stupid things I will unavoidably say or do from time to time because I just cannot help myself.

Fuck this sad old glob of shit with his stupid-looking beanies and stupid mauve-red jumper – the same shit he’s got on every, single, day.

Anyway, I’m outside standing in the middle of the road at about 7:20 this morning – which is when the two office women get there so I’m just guestimating that time, when one of those office women gets out her car and walks up the side of the school towards the front gates.

On the way past she stops to say the usual daily ‘Good morning!’ and asks how I am so I tell her “Good. I’m excellent” then tell her I’ve happened upon a vacuum cleaner head that should stop teachers squealing to the principal about their carpets not being flawlessly speck-free and she tells me she hadn’t heard about that – that she wasn’t here yesterday morning.

‘And I won’t be here on Monday or Tuesday mornings either: I’ve got to take my mother to have an operation’

“Oh, that’s no good”

‘Yeah it’s.. She’s having a mastectomy.’

“Oooh that’s terrible :(“

‘Yeah it’s .. oh well: last year I lost my father to cancer and now, now my mum’s got it – it’s not much fun but yeah anyway still HERE I am everyday, bright and early!’

“Awwww that’s yeah that’s bad :(“

‘Yes, it is, but what can you do about it?’

“I dunno.. But if you’re a bit moody or short or snappy I’ll understand why”

Then she mentioned the virus, and we both agreed we’re sick of hearing about that goddamn virus “Like all the other iterations of the flu making the rounds it’s mostly people who’re already ill or old and frail who’re at any serious risk of death, yet everybody’s on about it like it’s Armageddon or some shit!”

She tells me Katoomba High School is actually closed for the day because of corona-virus.

Fuck me dead what is wrong with people..\

Anyway like I said I got to be sympathetic which is good, though I didn’t over-do it because I’m not exactly good at doing sympathy though I was genuinely a little sad for her because she’s nice and I like her so I didn’t have to fake that.

I’m just not very good at sharing the sadness of other people – especially when it has no direct impact on me personally.

Twenty-eight past midday.. Hmm..

Oh well – it was not a big ask by any stretch, yet there ya go.

Least I got an accurate gauge of the level of sincerity going on before being dumb enough to take the bait again πŸ’©

Nada, nil, naught: like anyways, I’m on my own until I find someone.

6:00 PM

No blowback at all from the toilet-brush+desks thing confirmed after 24 hours: the principal came looking for me tonight, but not about that: she was fine and bubbly with no mention of anything negative.

My phone’s on 13% though so I cannot write it now.

Anyway that’s it thankfully: week over.

Two days of vegetation.

8% phone charge and I’m starting to nod-off just sitting on the train, so I’m probably at about 8% too.

Yeah right time to get pissed.

Least I brought my down jacket home tonight.

Now I’ve told the principal story I don’t feel like repeating myself.

Maybe tomorrow when I’m bored and have nothing else to write about.

Saturday, 14th March 2020

9:56 AM

Bitch.

10:33 AM

I got woken up at 5:03 AM today bu a taxi driver ringing me up offer a fucking ride: how desperate is that shit far out.

Get a real job loser: you won’t have to base your income on how many fares you don’t get throughout the day – sitting in a car just waiting for someone to tap on your window.

12:34 PM

Finally, it’s cold enough today to warrant a down jacket and not be sweating the moment I step inside, well anywhere…

Right here we are in the library again and after almost twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep I’m almost still too sleepy to care for using my brain much at all, the redhead is here completely absorbed by her studies as usual and, well the mumbler‘s not here so that’s just fucking great – I don’t even care how busy the place is long as he’s not sitting there talking to himself.

Yesterday afternoon while I was in the middle of vacuuming I’d just locked-up the D-Block rooms and was walking toward the Kindergarten rooms when I see the principal walking towards me.

Here we go I start thinking, this’ll be about those handful of shit-heeled yuppie teachers taking my threatening to toilet-brush their desks seriously: that’s gone full-circle and reached Kristen, who’s now coming to have “the talk” with me – the one where she tells me ‘Thanks for the help, but we can’t have you working here anymore so today will be your last shift here’

‘Just the man I’m looking for!’, she calls out.

She doesn’t sound like she’s here to deliver “the talk” – she seems completely relaxed …

“Noo, no whadda you want? What have I done *now*?”

‘Nothing: I’ve just come to get your phone number’

“You in love with me?”

‘Ha!’, she steps in and nudges my arm.

‘No, I need your number in case the school has to close down because of the corona virus’

“Oh wow that’s insane. I’m *sick* of hearing about that virus.”

‘I know me too – people have lost the plot’

“Wait! The school cannot close! I’m still casual – I don’t earn anything if the school’s shut :(“

‘Well it probably won’t happen but I need everyone’s numbers just in case’

“That sucks. Hope it doesn’t close…”

‘Well I don’t think it will, but anyway that’s good carry on and have a great weekend’

“Yeah right. You have a good weekend too”

Of course if the school does close, so long as the principal doens’t inform the company that it’s closed they should still pay me for not being there, but I don’t know: it might be protocol for the school to notify my employer whenever the school shuts-down.

Find out if it happens I guess.

1:44 PM

While downstairs grabbing iced coffee I stopped to take this photo that illustrates the toilet paper situation in supermarkets – still ridiculous…

In spite of the fact you cannot eat toilet-paper and can substitute so many other things for it, that’s the thing that everyone is panicking about and even the Blackheath Primary School is unable to order more – the distributors have run out of stock.

Now I’ve had enough caffeine to be awake I’m becoming disconected about that other little thing..

That non-work-related, personal thing that’s just sitting there like an elephant in the room again after so many elephants in the room for so fucking long.

I am not at all happy about that and the bell-curve on my shifting from not-happy to outright-hateful is very steep and very quick.

You can never make up for all the love lost over such a huge amount of time at all, but to find you still just sending pics of trivialities and expecting to get anywhere with nothing but shitty small talk looks to me like a very bad omen because like I said, I won’t even wait again for genuine communication and sincerity – I’ll be out and you’ll be blocked faster than you think if that aimless-floating crap continues which means there’s no point in unboxing any positive emotion myself for what will amount to nothing more than a few texts and a phone call.

That’s all it’s amounted to for two years and you’re piss-weak approach is already annoying me more than anything else: you’re meant to be a grown woman the same age as me, yet your behavior presents like how a primary kid would deal with a stupid childish crush.

That behavior is the reason I’ve told you to fuck off about a thousand times now and every time, the cycle has grown shorter and shorter because all you’ve done is dribble small talk and that’s it: if that’s the depth of emotion you offer I’m never going to become interested again.

I can text any number of people and pretend there’s something deep going on – hell I can imagine entire relationships that aren’t there like a nutcase if I really try hard enough but pretending isn’t me at all.

I won’t pretend you’re something you’re not simply to compensate for you being too lacking as a woman to be present and with me – I’m better off waiting for something better, and anything real would be better than something that’s pretend, make-believe or imagined.

You need to be what you were in the beginning – I don’t give a fuck how you do that.

Years ago, really.

Yesterday.

Now.

It’s impossible for you to make-up for all that lost time and love and affection but you can protect and prevent anymore damage being done and you need to start immediately.

I need to pack up and get another iced coffee, or just get another one.. the redhead is two feet away I’m sure she’ll be deterrent enough – I don’t even need to ask her to watch my stuff.

You see how often the word “need” has been repeated in today’s writing?

It’s because those things NEED to happen for anything to resume or continue: they’re just not optional anymore – not even for me.

I need those things to happen in order to be able to interface in any way with you and you need to do them.

Old-Brian just walked past..

I told him he looked terrible, which he does, and he said he feels terrible which I don’t doubt at all.

What I didn’t tell him was that if anybody should be staying out the public groups for fear of death-by-corona, it’s Brian.

This is Old-Brian from the church I’m talking about of course, not Grandpa-slaver-over-women-his-daughters-age-closeted-pervert-Brian.

I’ve just set him straight on the way out for a smoke.

The librarian gave me a foul look when she heard me telling him “If anybody’s at risk of dropping dead from this stupid virus Brian it’s you: You’re in the danger-group”

Whatever, she’s just one of many plain-janes fatshits nobody even notices and I’m only warning Brian for his own good.

Shit-faced doughy cunt: scowl at me like that – she didn’t clean his flat when he moved to the Cecil; she hasn’t had to listen to Brian’s droning, ambiguous words of wisdom that are too general to be of any use to anyone, then placate him with agreement; she didn’t have to endure the ordeal of taking brian to Big-W then spend the whole morning trying to explain what the red and green buttons on the phone do and put up with the old man getting impatient at *me* because he couldn’t grasp such a fundamentally basic thing.

She’s just another fat dime-a-dozen desk-bitch full of socially polite niceties and dribble.

Gawd even Brian is trying to tell me people are not over-reacting to the virus, yet google tells me that so far only 4,600 people have died – which is nothing at all especially if you consider most of those would’ve been third-world countries where people are already sick or the old and debilitated.

Then he tells me ‘The actor Tom Hanks has corona-virus’ and I’m like, “So what!? Tom Hanks is in contact with *thousands* of people each week: what are his symptoms Brian? Same as the common cold – he’s not BLEEDING out EVERY orifice is he? Are his organs turning to liquid and leaking out of him? No. No of course not: he’s just got the flu with a new name and the same symptoms as the flu – he’ll be fine in a week”

I can’t talk to Brian.

Matter of fact, half of ALL the people I hear talking about the virus are spinning out like trippers over it, the other half – like me – are sensible and logically minded enough to know it’s just another version of the flu and freaking out about it is as pointless as it ridiculous.

Like I said, if anyone should be worried it’s someone as old and already sick as he is, yet he’s here in a public library in a town full of tourists just to read a paper he could download online.

I’ve gotta go shopping and fuck off home so I can think and probably wind up angry again before drinking some apathy back into myself.

What do I want for dinner mm..

Potatoes tonight I think.

I’ll buy some of those McCain pre-cut & cooked oven-bake & serve potatoes and some fresh bread: have baked-potato on buttered bread.

Best to decide before I enter a supermarket – avoids my wandering about aimlessly picking and window-shopping and coming back out with nothing I actually went in for.

And you: times up, you’re gone – you offer nothing I need at all.

If you can’t even manage genuine love or communicate then you’re useless to me.

An empty waste of time.

And there’s nothing wrong with the redhead.

5:32 PM

I should be learning MySQL.. but 90% battery and dropping slowly.

You know, I was just thinking: most sites I’ve cleaned, I’ve worked in a vacuum – there’s nobody there the whole shift except one other person and then maybe one or two might file in just as I’m leaving.

It’s nice to have a site where I’m smack in the middle of 30 other co-workers most of the time I’m there.

I mean for the first half of the morning shift I’m there alone but that’s really just beneficial: I’ve never been a morning person so to have the entire school to myself for that first two hours is great – gives me a chance to wake-up but also allows me to fuck around a bit and take shortcuts nobody’s there to witness – that’s 5:00->7:00 each morning.

At around 7:00 AM the odd teachers might wander in though they’re usually only one or two but then at 7:20-7:25 the admin office chicks get there and by 8:00 AM most of the staff have arrived and are getting ready for the day.

In the afternoon, from 14:00-18:00 the school is full of people pretty much and I frequently end-up leaving at 5:50 with one or two remaining teachers in A-Block who then alarm that building before they leave, but I still lock all the doors in every block before I leave so all they have to do is arm the security system and lock the front door and gates when they go.

Yeah.

Nice to be surrounded by people for a change, even if they’re mostly teachers there’s still the canteen staff who basically just to kitchen-bitch duties and the GA – he’s like 60-70 and has the honour of unblocking sewage pits and toilets and other lowly jobs, while even some of the teachers have to change the nappies of the odd disabled spastic student throughout the day so even the teachers aren’t just always doing higher-than-thou scholarly work – they’ve got their shitty jobs too.

Ahhh – I’ve just found (in Windows 10) that the spellcheck can be set to “English UK” which stops it from telling me I’ve made a mistake when I type “honour” and suggests “honor” which is obviously a spelling error in itself and I really wish they’d just fuck OFF that stupid, lazy American version of English because English comes from the UK – I *abhor* seeing devices re-write colour to ‘color’ because it’s WRONG and what’s the ‘u’ straining their brains? Takes too much effort to type or write ONE extra letter?

I was just about to write too, that one of the really, REALLY nice things about having my own laptop now is that when I “Add to dictionary..”, the word STAYS in the dictionary: all the other times I’ve used any computers at WISE Employment well, their desktops are set to NOT remember any settings users change, and the spellcheck never remembered anything I taught it.

Yeah the school though I was talking about and I bet I’ve gotway, waaaay fewer spelling errors and typos now I’m using a keyboard and spellcheck though there’d still have be some and the spellcheck doesn’t rearrange for good grammar.

I could type everything out in MS Word – that’s got grammatical checking and suggestions – but I’m not that concerned: all these entries are forgotten once I’ve written the next days words anyway so the writing is all disposable, practically.

I’ve gotta put my chips and nuggets on to slow-fry – since I’m not oven-baking them …

Sunday, 15th March 2020

3:45 PM

Lot of weirdos in the library today.

Were a lot of weirdos: I went down to get another iced-coffee then returned and they’ve cleared-out now.

On the bus into town I heard the driver talking to some nobody about the virus and how they’d shut the high-school down here in town, that ‘they’ would be making an announcement this afternoon about all the schools, all at once.

That was at about midday.

So far I haven’t heard anything from the principal about my school being shut though, so fingers crossed people will grow a brain and snap out of it because I need the school to stay open to earn income.

Actually there’s no point in blocking you – it’s just an emotional reaction that means little when I’ve still gotta have your number in my phone to actually have it blocked.

Either way I’m bored with you again already so bye πŸ–

Frustrated by the complete lack of explanation, but I’m even bored of that.

I did figure if I could get some kind of understanding what would possibly make any woman so sick she’d get off just making someone else unhappy, but really it’s one those things that’s just not that exciting anyway: she’s not Hannibal Lector with tits; not some kind of mystical being – she’s just a woman who likes stringing people along to make herself feel more exciting than her day-to-day reality really is.

Mystery solved, and all this started again simply because I wrote a few days ago that you lurkers can’t remind me to plug my laptop into charge: I wasn’t actually writing specifically to her, but she – being absolutely self-obsessed – figured I was, so text to tell me to charge it.

Later when I ask why she’d made contact she said she’d done so purely to remind me to plug my laptop in, which I’ll accept at face value and carry on thinking as little of her as ever.

5:10 PM

Work tomorrow so I’ve gotta go get clean shaven and well, clean generally and change into clean clothes.

I’ve started a site with Dreamweaver.

Monday, 16th March 2020

9:29 AM

Okay so as it happens, there was fall-out from the toilet-brush-the-squealers-desks joke I made last week – yes indeed.

Fall-out in the form of my new supervisor – Liz – parked out front of the school this morning specifically to heave me sign a formal written warning about inappropriate ah, talking in a manner that could degrade trust and make the company look bad.

“Some people”, I told her as I finger-painted my signature on the ipad, “have no sense of humour at all..”

She kind’ve agreed but told me that it wasn’t a funny joke at all, then pointed out that it didn’t help my dropping a bomb like that the very same day Katoomba High School had closed because of the Corona virus.

“God I’m sick of hearing about that virus – you’d think the zombie apocalypse was here!”

On the upside, I used Katoomba Taxis this morning instead of that Maxi Taxi and the woman who drove me to morning said she’d be happy to do it for a capped $30 but also informed me that most of the other drivers for that company would do it for $30 too.

I’d been telling her how the Maxi Taxi – who’re independent and only have two drivers and one van – said they’d drive me to work each morning for $34 and that was meant to be their idea of a good deal, but when I told them one the drivers at Katoomba Taxis had done it several mornings in a row and only $30, the Maxi driver said that would be a bit too low for them.

I also told her how the Maxi driver woke me up ringing at 5:00 AM on Saturday when I don’t work weekends and yeah, I’d already told the other driver that but this expanded description of the taxi wars is getting a bit confusing no doubt so I’ll stop with the babbling and summarize.

I’ve got a $30/day cab arrangement to Blackheath that most drivers will accept – not just the one who gave me a lift last week for that price.

Wednesday, 18th March 2020

9:13 AM

I’ve paid to have a woman cook my breakfast, because that’s what it’s come down to and because I’m unusually tired for no known reason, though I’ve already eaten the half a container of leftover spaghetti so this is mostly because I’ve almost an hours wait for the 10:00 train and I’ve gotta do something to fill in the time.

Some kind of eggs and toast with ham shit…

It was alright… the mustard added tang I could’ve done without in an eggs & toast breakfast but it was edible, though I told them it “tasted like arse” when they wanted to know how it was, because it’s Blackheath and I like all ears in the room to be on me.

I’m actually tired enough to think yeah I’m exceptionally tired considering I slept 6 hours last night, I’ve got a runny nose and a cough.

Dripping nose: I’ve actually gotta dab it with the napkin I took from the cafe a hour or so ago to stop droplets falling to my shirt.

It’s probably just the psychosomatic effects of Wednesday.. maybe a subconscious desire to be told not to come into work for two weeks?

12:27 PM

How many psychiatrists does it take to change a light-bulb?

Just one, but the light-bulb has to really want to change.

I don’t want Blackheath Primary anymore.

It’s not just the workload, and the haldful of snarky bitch teachers constantly complaining about their carpet not being just perfect when they’re the ones letting the kids mash cake and dried grass and fucking buiscuts and ice-cream in the carpet of their own classrooms, which simply isn’t possible to completely vacuum up and certainly not in the allocated time – I’ve got 17 classrooms to clean every day and these sour old cunts whinge like their classroom is the only room in the school yet some have carpet so disgusting it takes me literally half an hour just to vacuum that ONE room – I’ve timed myself: nothing but vacuuming one room for 30 minutes.

I’ll let the principal know this too next time she puts another sticky note about fucking carpet in my sign-in book.

Most of all though, it’s the lack of *breaks* I get cleaning an entire school on a broken shift: every morning I’m up at 3:30 AM with 1.5 hours until I’ve gotta be at the school, the morning shift ends at 9:00 AM but the next train down the mountain doesn’t leave Blackheath until 10:02 AM and if I get that train I get back to Katoomba by 10:20 AM, but by the time I’ve walked into town, grabbed a coffee and got soemthing to eat it’s almost 11:00 AM.

Go to the library at 11:00 AM and I’ve got 2 hours until I’ve gotta be back at the station by 1:00 PM for the train back up to Blackheath to start work at 2:00 PM, then get home with only 2 hours until bedtime so I can do it all again the next day.

There’s just no time to function during the week at all – let alone do anything I want to do – and the weekend is over in the blink of an eye.

That’s the biggest reason I don’t want the site anymore: I can handle the bitching and saccharin smiles and it hasn’t taken long to figure out which teachers I get along with and which I won’t even say good morning to, but there’s NO time at all to do anything ALL WEEK.

You see the time now is 12:43 PM: I’ve only just got to the library and sat down, yet in half an hour I’m supposed to get up and go back to the station and won’t get home until about 7:30 tonight.

So I’m not doing that.

I’m skipping the 1:25 PM train and getting the one after – the 2:25 which will get me there 45 minutes late, sure, but I can’t even start on the classrooms until 3:00 when the bell rings and they rapidly empty.

That time doesn’t just vanish mind you – I’m not that brazenly dishonest: I write a little “-45min” in the sign-in book for me to work back off later, which might mean tomorrow morning once all the usual shit is done, from 9:00-9:45 AM I’ll get out the leaf-blower and get rid of the increasing buildup around the doorways simply because I’m sick of vacuuming whole leaves up.

I can spend another 45mins some morning doing the lower-floor windows with my t-mop and squeegee – if I’d only remember to take them in.

I’ve made a note of the time I’ve been down is my point – I’m not just appearing late and forgetting about it.

I could probably just do 5 hours in the morning and 3 in the afternoon permanently now I think of it, and just alternate between doing cobwebs, leaf-blowing and whatever outside once school has started.

Oh the stack.

It’s history now, though the wound is looking worse now than the other day when I did it, but I slipped on the white paint on one of the zebra-crossings when it was raining and wet the other day: the embarrassment was worse than the injury, but the injury was painful enough …

I also tore a hole about an inch round in the blue merino shirts cuff which is two layers thick but still got shredded because I landed on the road and slid: like like falling off a bike going low speed then landing on my arm on the gravel, plus I cut a hole in my little finger …

I made the most of the sympathy I got for it around the school when I got there though and even managed a sliver of sympathy from Woman #7 – though only limited and via text like always and it’s still painful now when I lean it against a desk or get it caught on my clothes because it’s startiung to scab-up.

That was Monday I did that.

Thursday, 19th March 2020

6:50 PM

I have discovered a link that differentiates the dumb kids from the smart ones – school-wide.

With all the bullshit going on surrounding Corona virus and the panic creeping up on morons approximately one-third the student population of Blackheath Primary School have been withdrawn by their parents – many indefinitely.

This is the cleanest the school has been in the five weeks I’ve been there – it’s fucking awesome.

I shared my theory with a few teachers this afternoon, telling them that “The kind of parents who are mentally vacuous enough to withdraw their kids from school in a panic thinking we’re going to become infected and die, are the kind of people who’re filling trolleys with groceries they’ll never end up needing and these less evolved people’s *less evolved kids* absence has meant the entire school has been 90% cleaner since they’ve gone”

Speaking of groceries, I stopped on the way out Woolies earlier specifically to ask the kiosk staff whether all these idiots buying the store out would get a refund on all the pasta, powdered milk and rice and toilet paper they’ve hoarded.

They told me ‘Nope – no refunds at all on non-faulty items’

So people’d wanna just slow-on doooowwn with the hoarding: whatever you stupidly snatched off the shelves thinking the end of the world was coming – you’re stuck with it.

All of it.

Even *I* was tempted when I was in Coles at around lunchtime – to get an iced-coffee for the library – and saw three 1kg bags of powdered full-cream milk on the shelf: I even reached my hanmd out and grabbed them, then realized I have drunk only fresh milk for months and I have no desire to go back to mixing that shit since there’s plenty of fresh milk – why would I want to drink powdered shit?

What’s the point of even buying one bag if I don’t want it?

And to date I’ve not bought even a shopping bag full of anything let alone start a hoard of anything: I buy what I want to eat or need that day on my way home – that’s all I buy because I’m not an idiot.

As for the school, I stayed back until 9:45 this morning to make up for the 45 minutes I was late yesterday and did half the lower-floor windows in the main admin block and impressed everyone with the wagtail and transformation of glass from frosted with greasy fingerprints (and face-prints) to clear.

There were a few streaks since I used a bit more detergent than I needed and didn’t have ammonia in the solution, but overall they looked excellent when they were done and the 45 minutes after they’d all gone into classes was so much more relaxing than the preceding 4-hour race to get the standard daily cleaning done before everyone starts filling the school.

I like that 5/3 hrs shift split: allows me to have more time in the middle of the day before I’ve gotta start heading back to Blackheath and means yeah the yard is pretty clean most days – even before the dumb parents stopped sending their kids – so arriving at 2:00 PM means there’s not much to do because the yard pickup only takes around fifteen minutes and once I’ve done that I can’t get in the classrooms to start on them until 3:00 PM so I end up pretty much bored for about 30-45 mins while I wait.

I’m also starting to get tired that time of day after waking up at 3:30 AM and already having done a 4 hr morning shift then hanging around town a few hours, so cutting the afternoon shift to three hours and starting at 3:00 PM means I can start doing shit the moment I get there and keep doing moving until it’s finished – there’s no waiting for parts of the school to vacate.

As for the teachers, I still don’t know positively which are the squealers who dislike me, though I’m starting to see the teachers that I get along with never seem to socialise with the teachers I find most artificial.

Wait I’ve gotta eat this ham since I’ve got no fridge and just had a roll – it’s sitting there open and uncovered and it’s bugging me so I’ve gotta finish it off..

yeah one of those teachers – a fat brunette with a bob cut that always looks like she’s barely concealing her depression – because her kids both go to the school they go hang out in her classroom and her plus her kids are almost always there until 5:30.

Today there was two extra kids plus her, plus the fake-as-shit male teacher in the classroom next to her all sitting around in a group taking up 1/4 the room so rather than wait or vacuum around them I just left that qhole area un-done because I’m not coming back afterwards simply because she’s got no life and wants to spend the entire afternoon there.

I’ll see if I get a sticky note in the sign-in book for that and I’m quite happy to explain that I can’t vacuum areas where people are sitting, and don’t have time to go back afterwards just to do a few square meters of carpet when it’s good for her and her kids.

*…

8:18 PM

I had to pay $66 for tonight’s bottle of Drambuie since it isn’t on special anymore and have bought two packets of tobacco but other than that I’ve bought nothing at all I don’t need so far: no clothes, no electronic toys or gadgets, not even a pair of merino socks or underwear – just milk, salad sandwiches for lunch and coffees.

Oh right – payday was only yesterday..

Still, I can’t think of anything I really want to buy this week so whatever.

I’ve gotta get ready for bed.

I wanna do more of my hand-made site but that’s usually for the middle of the day when I’ve got those several hours and I’ve gotta say, even needing a wall socket to charge, the laptop is well suited for the amount of time – or lack of time – I have to use it: charged at the school in the afternoon I don’t have enough time at night to even use half the battery, while using it at the library in the middle of the day it’s plugged in so it hasn’t got flat once so far.

What are we now.. 77%, and I’ve gotta fuck off in half an hour to sleep.

There’s also plenty more I haven’t written but again, it’s bedtime soon and I’m tired from actually doing the plenty more so don’t give much of a shit about writing it all out.

Friday, 20th March 2020

12:11 PM

Virus virus virus fuck me: we need the black plague to make a comeback just so we can have a serious disease to worry about.

I just saw one of the teachers from the school in Coles doing her shopping – the one who looks like that swimmer, Joanna Briggs: I didn’t bother to glance in her trolley to determine whether she was hoarding but she seems too intelligent to be the type to do that.

I’m too tired to care anyway: one more shift and I can fuck-off home to bed.

Even this morning I didn’t want to get off the train on the way back and there’s something about the train: whether it’s the comfortable air or the smooth motion or the reclined seats, I hate having to stand up and get off once I’m on there and often fall asleep – or come back close to it until my head slips off my hand and wakes me.

5:00 PM

I’ve left an hour early today without finishing all my vacuuming and told the 2-3 remaining teachers they can lock-up their respective blocks because I’m over it for the week – that I’ll come in an hour earlier on Monday to do this afternoon’s rooms.

I did the two kindergarten rooms then decided the vacuuming could go fuck itself tonight and right after I’d left I checked the train timetable only to find there’s no train until 6:08 PM anyway.

Still I didn’t turn around to go back and finish: much easier to sit at a train station for an hour than spend that time vacuuming.

So monday I’ll have to go in at 4:00 AM but at least I’ll have had two nights to catch up on sleep before then and right now I’m so fuckin tired yeah I was already fucked everyone 11:00 AM.

I also heard something from one the relief teachers today about the last cleaner: apparently as recently as last year Rhonda had another cleaner who came in each day and then they cut the other cleaner which seems to coincide with her resigning.

Her husband – the GA at the school – told me there used to be three cleaners and Rhonda was just one of them but they cut them one by one until they only had the second cleaner coming in 2 or 3 hours per day to help her with well, 2 or 3 hours worth of stuff.

Anyway it’s not just my imagination that it’s an awful lot of work for one person and it’s not like there’s any sections of the school or the work that don’t need to be done: every day all the classrooms are used and all need to be vacuumed; every day every bin, waste basket and wheelie bin are used and need to be emptied; every day every toilet has a used – though they’re all remarkably clean where they’re concerned: eveen the main outside toilet block is clean as a whistle compared to a high-school and the toilet bowls themselves never have shit stuck to them or anything like that.

The boys toilets too, don’t stink like high school ones because they’re not old enough for their piss to smell enough to build up in the floor tiles etcetera.

The amount of vacuuming is hands-down the worst thing about the cleaning there because it’s always pencil shavings and glitter and shit that clings in the carpet I it’s always there again – every day.

Given how shitty my diet is along with the 5-6 hours maximum sleep I can fit-in each night it’s little wonder I’m so exhausted.

7:07 PM

Thank fuck that’s over for the week.

It’ll suck dick at 4:00 Monday morning: I’ll have 14 classrooms plus the library, admin offices and hallways to vacuum all at once but at least I’ll have caught-up on sleep by then.

If I had a decent woman I wouldn’t have dropped the last hour because I’d know I’d be going home for dinner soon and having dinner every night would not only be nice it’d be such an upgrade to my diet overall I’d actually have the energy to do the job generally without dragging my feet every other shift.

Then there’s the emotional upgrade of having someone to go home to in the first place providing the inner drive to push harder instead of dropping the vacuum cleaner and telling everyone “I’m over it, seeya”

Sunday, 22nd March 2020

10:49 AM

What else is there to do but just not give a fuck – an internal mechanism that’s been so successful an insulator I barely gave a fuck beforehand.

Not giving a fuck and escapism, the latter of which could not be better expressed than by listening to the audible narrated version of Stephen King’s The Stand: all three books in a 47 hour, 700mb listen.

Anyone who’s read the book will know it’s an epic three part novel about a super flu that’s released in a government research center that rapidly spreads across the globe and ends in an equally epic division then show-down between good and evil with the few remaining survivors.

Sadly Corona is anywhere near that impressive, exciting or catastrophic but it’s still perfectly suited contextually to the current social pft in actuality the the only parallel is there’s a much less dramatic flu that has shown people to be the idiots they always have been.

Everybody I know could cough themselves to death and it wouldn’t matter a shit to me.

Ironically, a very small number of people I don’t know – people who brighten my day in the simplest of ways; they’d be missed in the hypothetical apocalyptic end of days scenario.

And all the people I don’t know – the moving wallpaper – the smell of all their decomposing bodies would mean they equate to just an annoying, persistent bad smell to me.

Fuck you, fuck your pets, fuck your whole family and fuck everyone else you know.

I hope you all shit out your own liquified organs and bleed to death out every hole you got.

Sadly that won’t happen: even the common cold is a virus and Corona is just another mutation of that so noone will be shitting putrefaction or crying blood.

Pity.

12:55 PM

I’ve gotta grab shit for dinner and fuck off back home soon so I can pass out early tonight, get up then get these fucking 14 classrooms done and behind me – means I’ll have to get up at 2:30 to be in there by 4:00 and I’ll have to not do that shit in future: kind’ve takes the relaxation outta the weekend knowing I’ve gotta start the week at 4:00 AM making up half of fridays shift before I can even start on the morning clean.

Can’t fail to do it either: I’ll be verbally lynched if some the bitchy arseholes get in tomorrow to find their classrooms covered in pencil shavings and other shit still there from friday.

Worse yet, they’d all think I’d lost the plot and was incapable of doing the job which is incorrect: I’m just not eating well enough to have the energy to last the five days currently so by Friday I’m completely fucked.

Worse also, the principal would leave a sticky note in my book in the office and I can’t avoid bumping into her because she’s all over the place every morning greeting the staff – all of them; spending a solid twenty minutes each day right outside the cleaners cupboard chatting with the admin chicks.

The principal walked past me on Friday morning and as she’s looked at me she’s signed.

“Huh? What’s wrong?”

‘Nothing, I’m just sick of all this virus crap’ she’s said, which I agreed with and then as she started heading up the stairs to the library I told her “You know, you’re infinately more intimidating when you’re doing the ‘ultra polite’ thing somehow :)”

‘Oh really? :)’

“Yeah, I dunno how that works though”

True too: even half a foot shorter than I am she’s got this aire of authority that’s partly residual attitudes from 30-odd years ao when I was in school and partly the fact she’s so friendly and diplomatic you kind’ve don’t wanna disappoint the woman.

Scotch fillet steak for dinner and nothing else because I can’t be fucked washing anything but myself tonight and I’ve just gotta shut that cunt outta my head again because all she ever leaves me with is a constant, sick, heartbroken sinking depression that forces it’s way out to diminish everything I do.

All the pointless sack of shit ever wants to do: fuck me around every time I’ve put the empty bitch in my rear-view mirror and she’s done it so many times now her shitty random texts and calls are meaningless waste of time when I already know she’s just a sick fuck who gets off on trying to make me miserable.

Like Toni accurately concluded after hearing surprisingly little about it and over two years ago now: ‘She sounds like a real cunt: she doesn’t want you, she just doesn’t want anyone else to have you.’

To date the ‘cunt’ has proven everybody else 100% right and me 100% wrong.

Whatever anyway I’m going to wash and shave myself back into a human being for those half-dozen or so near strangers who actually do brighten my days, then fuck around with the new site until dinner and bedtime.

Monday, 23rd March 2020

9:55 AM

That’s it for me and this job: I haven’t been fired nor resigned, but as good as.

I get to work early as planned to finish up fridays work and start on the leftover vacuuming which was faster than I expected since there wasn’t too much grabby shit in the carpets and get through all the classrooms but the last block of four when I get n incoming call from this new supervisor.

She’s at the front gates wanting to be let in and when I go out front she’s there with another cleaner.

Within ten minutes this cunt is in the hallway telling me ‘This is Bronwyn’ and ‘What we’re going to do is if you can do this shift and this afternoon’s shift, Bronwyn will take over after that’

I’m just standing there thinking what a cunt move that is when this fucking dike bitch tells me ‘we’ will find something closer to Katoomba for me since that’s where I live and all I hear in that horseshit is the ‘will’.

“So you can even have any replacement hours for me?”

‘No, not yet…’

Then I realize there’s fucking nothing closer apart from Katoomba itself and there’s fuckall in Katoomba because there’s no sites without permanent cleaners already in them.

I say nothing to this and just stand there scratching my head with a blanc expression on my face when she asks whether I want to show this cunt Bronwyn around the school – since I know the layout.

“Not really, nup – I don’t have time: I came in an hour early because I’ve got Friday’s leftovers to do”

Cunt supervisor tells me cunt Bronwyn will help so bla bla whatever and I end up with this bitch following me around while I show her the school, then she finally fucks off to finish the vacuuming in b-block and wipes the desks there and it took her the entire shift to finish just that block while I cleaned the rest of the school.

In all honestly I was just as relieved as annoyed by this sudden development, takeover, whatever you wanna call it because the idea of not having to come in and sweat my dick off cleaning for the handful of squealing, backstabbing wankers who bitch behind my back sounds pretty fucking good – until I realized the meta issue here – I can’t work for this bitch.

Don’t want to work for the bitch.

This slag has instantaneously taken me from a full-time wage to having absolutely no income at all: any supervisor who’d think nothing of doing that to any cleaner really is a cunt and how am I meant to work with that?

In one morning she’s not only snatched all my hours away and given the to someone else, she hasn’t even given enough of a shit to have any other work available.

Not only does that instantly wipe out my income entirely it wipes out the trust, friendliness or respect I might have had over time.

So I’ve gotta apply for something else starting tomorrow: any other cleaning work, cafe dishwashing – anything.

The upside is I’ve got money in the bank and can spend a few days getting up at 10:00 AM and wander into town like so many lazy tourist arseholes do, plus heave time to fuck around with my site since I’m ‘between jobs’ until I find it worth working for.

Oh and no; I was not given any explanation whatsoever for being replaced and didn’t bother asking – I got the distinct impression the cunt had been lining-up this replacement cleaner since the bitch was at the site a week or so ago.

Gotta find another job.

3:15 PM

Right, so while on the train to Blackheath I realized that 3 shitty hours isn’t worth the humiliation of spending the afternoon teaching the bitch who’s just been given my job how to lock up do half her work for her, so I simply walked in, grabbed my jackets and shit from the cleaners cupboard then handed the keys to the admin women and told them they’ll have to show the replacement where the alarms all are so she can lockup at 6:00 PM.

I then text the cunt supervisor and told her being shafted out a full-time site without any explanation is bad enough without babysitting the person she’d given my job to and her only explanation was this …

“Jason I’m moving cleaner to get them conveniently closer to home. Your site closer to home will come up and I’m sure I will contact you when shifts are available”

‘Conveniently’ arse-fucked me out of a full-time position with 10 minutes notice.

Cunt of an excuse for a supervisor unless you’ve got a pair of tits she likes.

3:22 PM

I’m back in Katoomba – the school is the new cunts’ problem.

I’ll make a formal complaint to the apex supervisor two up from her tomorrow when I’m calmer and start applying for work locally doing anything but cleaning.

Tuesday, 24th March 2020

11:39 AM

People.. this is fucking ridiculous.

I was just thinking last night ** Back to the library to charge my phone thanks to that cunt ** only to get in here and and find everything is shut: both the library and WISE Employment plus every cafe/restaurant in town are doing take-away only.

I can’t even order food and sit down with my laptop to settle-in and get busy.

I had to leaving with the tobacconist to charge then felt obliged to buy another pouch of tobacco out of gratitude, well I’ll need the tobacco inevitably anyway but fuck there’s nowhere to sit and fuck around with my site at all.

7:39 PM

I am making a very good time on the new hand-made version of the site you know, given I’ve only got one full laptop charge to work with per session – or maybe because I’ve only got one full charge per session …

Not only do I have my basic style-sheet done and the layout rapidly evolving into something much more refined than I could ever have the freedom to create here, I’ve got site-wide cookies set and reading fine, I’ve dumped the *.html and switched to purely PHP files and have already got it remembering the visitors name: the site currently allocates everyone visiting the name Lurker which is stored in a variable I can insert anywhere in any page, code or paragraph I’ve already started using and will utilize in all my writing

So instead of addressing a reader as simply You, their name will be used which means “You know what I mean” very easily becomes parsed with that one variable as “Toni knows what I mean” or whatever your name happens to be.

You will have to enter your name of course or you’ll be automatically assigned the name Lurker, but you only need to enter a name once for all content on the site to have your name woven into the sites content.

It can be changed anytime of course and there’s no need for any account creation or email address required bullshit: though I’ll want user accounts anyway, that’ll be separate to a visitor simply setting their name.

Because I’m writing everything myself from scratch, I don’t have to look for some obscure plugin created by someone I don’t know then dig around in all their even more obscure code to locate bits I wanna change to suit myself: I can simply add whatever I want myself and avoid having thousands of PHP files written by thousands of people for a platform as big as wordpress is.

I can start adding the functionality I want from day 1 and have a much, much, much faster site for it because there’s only the code I create – which will be a fraction of the code – and I know exactly how to works.

What else have I done, mm a lot of little bits and pieces but I’m down to 45% so I’m not wasting that just posting here: I wasted the last 10% battery using the laptop only because I needed to upload that screenshot of Firefox from here because the image is here and not on my phone.

Scotch-fillet steak again for dinner tonight and for the third night in a row.

I’ve had either a hamburger or subway or salad roll for lunch while in town every day the past few days plus that steak every night for dinner and I must say I feel noticeably better after a few days of actual food with both meat and salad.

Anyway I’ve gotta go squeeze as much as I can out the last 30% charge so bye.

Wednesday, 25th March 2020

12:19 PM

Thought I had the solution to laptop battery charging when I saw the cafe next to Coles was open with chairs and tables laid out until I went to sit down: Blonde Chick comes over to ginge me my coffee but tells me I’m not actually allowed to drink it ast the cafe.

“Why not?”

‘It’s a the new take-away laws: you can sit down in cafes to “rest”, but people aren’t allowed to sit for extended periods and you can’t eat or drink food on the premises’

“You can’t eat or drink food in cafes at all?”

‘Nooo, crazy hey?’

“People have gone fucking mad. And what’s the definition of an extended period?”

She shrugs off says nobody knows that.

“So I can stand right there – one step outside the cafe – and down my coffee then come back in to sit and ‘rest’, but can’t bring the coffee I bought in the cafe ahh, back in the cafe I bought it from?”

‘Yeppers’

“Okay I’ll skull it then come back um, in”

‘Okay that’s fine, sorry it’s insane I know!’

So I take two steps outside the cafe, quickly gulp my coffee then return to sit down and open my laptop but as I’m sitting there two ambulances and several police cars and wagons pull up outside the sliding doors just down from the cultural centre, so after around ten minutes the owner of the cafe – the fat dood who’s always wearing the hat – comes over and quietly tells me the police are right outside and he’s worried he’ll get in shit if they walk in and see me sitting here.

So I tell him alright, then unplug the device from the wall without even bothering to put it back in my bag and walk down the street to leave it to the computer store and got them to plug it in – where it’s still charging now.

Anyway I thought cafes were doing take-away only as a voluntary thing or whatever but it’s not voluntary at all: it’s the law.

The world has gone completely fucking nuts and I’ve told Blonde Chick when I went back for my second coffee “People are still not concerned about standing in line at shops and supermarkets breathing ALL OVER everyone anyway”

4:29 PM

And here’s the first draft of how I want each page to break down into its various components – photoshopped with increased contrast for visibility …

The first script to execute on every page will handle all the global variables that need to be set or retrieved and rather than just giving it some obscure label like init_page.php, I’ve started from the ground up with a persona and named it guido.php.

Expanding on that just moments later, I realize that just as the site itself has that invisible collection of scripts you can’t see behind the pages in the browser we view and interact with, guido.php functions as the hidden background engine and we’ll want a visible frontend for him – to allow the site’s most important piece of code to have a wrapper people can see and interact with.

These are just the seeds of ideas right now but those ideas are pretty exciting: as I’ve said already, I’m starting with nothing – a completely blank canvas – so I can sculpt and shape every little component as I go and create them however I like to have a site that’s every bit as unique as I am.

So guido.php will be the background script that handles the various processes for every page, what should his frontend manifestation be? Photoshopped pics of the possum? I’ve certainly got plenty of photos of guido in every emotional state and pose that any mammal could express …

Cartoon illustrations or drawings of him? That would mean I’d have to create an actual character but would look much more polished and colourful.

Take another jump forward in development and it’s entirely reasonable to consider having a command line just like a search bar that could be used to interact with Guido and issue commands to the site through him: instead of clicking buttons, you could type “Guido, send a nasty email to whoever@whatever.com” then hit enter and he’ll do it or “Guido, find posts containing ‘this’ and ‘that’ and list them oldest first”

Or “Guido, my name is Jason” instead of just entering it in a bland and boring text box that only exists to save a visitors name to the site.

I wouldn’t bother even trying to turn this interactive site persona into an actual AI chatbot because that would be way too much effort for what the persona would be required to do, so you’d have to issue commands in the right syntax because it wouldn’t recognize organic human language but that wouldn’t be hard for anyone to learn.

Nobody ever wants to pretend to chat with a simulation anyway: the novelty value would be gone so fast there’s no point even considering it but a command-line control of the site through a character who acts as the “face” of the machine? Now that would be very useful and even without knowing precisely the code required for that kind of interaction, I already know how it would work.

See, even without having come that far along in the sites development it’s pretty exciting just considering the possibilities..

Nobodies even been able to view the new site yet of course, and I won’t even bother dropping the link until it’s progressed enough for me to move this diary-writing over to it because until then well, there won’t be anything to read.

And for the sake of clarity, when I say “You” in regard to the site, I am always referring to YOU who is reading this now: not Woman #8, #7 or #6, not anybody specifically but everyone individually.

Just so there’s no confusion on the matter because I was thinking about Woman #7 today – while waiting down in the Coles carpark – when I realized that I genuinely don’t care anymore – truly.

Hardly a surprise: I spent the first 2 years desperately trying to get her to love me back, then spent a full 2 years after that miserably torn between knowing how it would’ve been had she not been so inhuman but knowing she’s just wrong inside or it would never have ended.

Today I’m walking around the pylons of basement level-2 when I realize that I spent the long mourning the loss that the mourning is all gone too.

What is it, the seven stages of grief?

I’m finally at the last stage – acceptance.

I no longer need the need to bargain, negotiate, get angry, be in denial or not of that crap anymore.

I genuinely – and finally – don’t give a shit: I’ve no interest in rebuilding or mending, bargaining over or “reigniting” what was only ever a shitty 6 month relationship in the first place.

It only ever pisses me off when the bitch makes contact with me again – that goes on for no more than a few days every half a year or so before I tell her goodbye again anyway and I know beyond a doubt it will never go anywhere because it hasn’t gone anywhere for 4 years – long enough for all those stages of grief and run their course completely.

Even missing the woman stopped happening loooong ago and I did most of my pining back when those shitty 6 months were still close enough to remember: I don’t remember much of a if it after four years so there’s nothing left to miss.

Actually, if we wanna use dates: 2015 there was a flash-in-the-pan fuckfest that was over as quick as it started, and from 2015 – 2020 the slut never once gave me even a moment of anything solid – half a decade of nothing but disappointment for all that effort will heavily piss anybody off, but even that anger and disappointment has evaporated now there’s not been any sign of the source for so long.

So though I might address “You” here to make the writing read more intimately, that’s intended to make the reading more personal for everybody who reads the site and hasn’t pointed at any one person specifically for as long as I can remember.

Well, recently I wrote specifically to her to tell her what a pointless, jaded, spent cunt she is but that was a very brief few paragraphs that were obviously directed at her and outside that none of it’s aimed at anyone in particular.

Glad to have cleared that up once and for all.

Oh and I’ve text my complaint to the Service Delivery Manager about our supervisors generally revolting treatment of cleaners along with a brief summary of how I just got completely fucked my this new one though like I said to someone else recently: I don’t want to work for any bitch who would have so little regard she’d leave me with absolutely NO income at all, and just by doing what she’s done that bitch has demonstrated that she doesn’t give a fuck whether I’ve got work, hours or an income so whatever this Manager ends up saying it’s not going to change what’s happened anyway.

Just gotta try and make the money I’ve got left plus next paydays money last as long as humanly possible and prey I find another job before it’s gone.

Buying eye-fillet steaks every night for dinner probably doesn’t help that at $15/steak but I’ll stop doing that soon: right now I need the nutrition and feel much better for it.

Besides, I’ve downgraded tonight from eye-fillet to porterhouse steak though also grabbed diane sauce, bake-and-serve potatoes and croissants to go with it.

No, I didn’t buy a diane sauce for the meat, but the potatoes: I still love my steak so rare it’s just heated in the middle of pooled in blood, which it was as soon I started cutting it though figured it best to get the photo before-hand because all that rust coloured liquid doesn’t make for good photography 😏

I did consider topping the steak with sauce a moment ago – for about 3 seconds – then realized I’d much rather the taste of the salted cow and sauce would only ruin that.

Muscle, fat and blood – perfect.

I dunno how people can kid themselves into thinking we weren’t naturally meant to eat meat either you know: even if I think about a cow corpse; decapitated, gushing blood, hell I even tried thinking about rotten meat and still my mouth just kept on salivating – even while I was actually eating it.

No other food makes me salivate, let alone continually as I eat it.

All the nice food doesn’t eliminate the creeping reality that if I don’t find another job then pretty soon I’ll end up homeless and unemployed with no money coming in at all – just, like, that.

Wonder why it’s taken me three days to calm down enough to text my supervisors boss to complain: I was as good as fired without any warning or any legitimate, valid reason at all because – from the I can see – this lesbian cunt wanted to give some woman she likes a full-time site and that’s the only fucking thing I can recognize as the real reason …

Course I’d never say that in my correspondence with her boss, or fair-work if I end-up having to contact them.

Friday, 27th March 2020

5:33 PM

Tuesday, 431st March 2020

7:55 PM

Okay this will probably be my last update here,

Not because I’m stopping updating, but because I’ve had my head in the new site since.. I dunno.. since I started it a week ago and I’ve managed to get the basic structure of a site that’s different in several ways.

Here’s the url, now I’ve got the basic pages in place and the console’s navigation sorted out.

https://psychaesthetic.com.au/sandbox/

The console is the biggest change and I only had the idea because I figured some kind of command-line for the odd thing here or there might be cool, then I realized that with a commandline interface, there’s no need at all for a menu, buttons or any that bullshit.

Then I started thinking about how much space menus take up on the screen, and how little they’re actually used so I started incorporating the site’s navigation into the console and now all you need to do is pull the console down, type “whatever page you want” and press ENTER.

Yeah not only do menus take up a lot of real estate on the page, you’ve gotta keep each page more or less in-line visually with the menu because the menu has to stay consistent throughout the site: with no menu or links or buttons and just that console up the top of the page, I’m absolutely free to make every page 100% different all I like.

Most of the last week I’ve been working on the console though I should’ve been looking for another job, it’s hardly an inspirational time for that: you can’t even sit down anywhere now – cafes, restaurants and libraries, are take-away only or closed completely.

Whatever anyway this is costing me battery charge.

I’m going to eat then return to the new site: all I now need is the ../words/diaries/2020/ pages and I can start the next months post there instead of here.

You’ll get used to the console – it’s MUCH faster and easier and people only ever park or bookmark one page at a time anyway so why have a menu at all?

Wednesday, 1st April 2020

4:17 PM

I’m buying rechargeable power banks like they’re fuckin disposable lately because there’s nowhere I can recharge anything other than the carpark at Coles and I’m sick of pacing back-and-forth there a full hour every day.

Today I spent $200 on the biggest one yet…

Weights as much as a house-brick and, fuck y’know for some unknown reason I am suddenly pissing sweat – I mean it’s literally rolling out my skin dripping oin the screen, yet I’m not sick and haven’t exerted myself recently at all…

I’ll have to copy the google fonts api over to the new site too: I’ve grown attached to the headings and subheadings.

9:15 PM

Yeah, I’ll be leaving the mountains in the next few weeks or months if something good doesn’t happen before the inevitable eviction notice arrives for my failure to pay rent.

Life’s too short to waste being bored and unhappy in any one place and as it stands there’s nothing at all to keep me here.

I could pay rent, but I don’t wanna live in a houso cockroach trap so I just don’t bother paying anymore and there’s no point looking for another place here just so I can go to work, come back to an empty place exhausted, not get enough sleep then get up at 2am to do it all again.

Sure I get money working, but money doesn’t fill any of the human holes any more than working my dick off does: you simply end-up tired as well as empty instead of just the former.

So when the eviction letter does arrive I’m going to back the two little day packs and one 48L red pack with whatever I really don’t want to leave behind, then get on a train for Sydney and go somewhere new.

Better than stagnating, watching the days roll past and wondering what I’m still doing here in another 5 years time.

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