July 08, 2007
Living the single life
I always thought that I would live alone at some point in my life, certainly before I got married. Living in SF killed that idea off right smart - it was just too expensive. And then Z and I started dating, moved in together, got married, and I realized that I would never have the chance to live alone, to see what that was like. Until this week, that is. First impressions? I didn't like coming home to a cold, empty house. There was no-one to hear about my day. Then I discovered that if I cooked dinner, I also had to do the dishes. No fair! Late on Tuesday night, I crawled into bed, a bed that was missing a heater. I had been reading for about five minutes when I realized that I was lying all the way on my side, with the blankets neatly shared between both halves of the bed. With a giggle and a grin, I moved into the middle of the bed and gathered all the blankets into a bundle around me. Now, I thought, This is something I could get used to!
July 04, 2007
A long way to go
Allow me to share exactly how far it is from Melbourne to New York with the following, riveting story:
Yesterday morning, I woke a little before 7am, had a quick shower and a cup of tea, and drove Z to the airport. On the horizon, the rising sun lit the edge of a big cloud turning it brilliantly gold. I left Z at the terminal, battled rush hour traffic on the way back home, and had some breakfast. Then I rode to school, had a two hour meeting with the high school student I'm mentoring, spent a scintillating three hours editing an Excel spreadsheet, and another three slightly more scintillating hours watching lab-mates practice their presentations. The ride home was through crisp winter air, underneath bare-limbed trees silhouetted against a dusky sky. I made myself some dinner, did the dishes and headed down to the pub for trivia night. The pub was packed and, thanks to a new smoking ban, full of breathable air. After a few too many beers, I walked back home, thankful to not smell and feel like an old ashtray, and crawled into bed to read for a couple of hours. Eight hours later, I woke up, checked my email and headed back to Uni. I spent two hours working on a manuscript, another hour editing that damn Excel file, and caught up with the people who share my office. I was sitting at my desk eating lunch when I an email arrived from Z saying that he had reached his Manhattan hotel.
And that, my friends, is how far it is from Melbourne to New York.
Yesterday morning, I woke a little before 7am, had a quick shower and a cup of tea, and drove Z to the airport. On the horizon, the rising sun lit the edge of a big cloud turning it brilliantly gold. I left Z at the terminal, battled rush hour traffic on the way back home, and had some breakfast. Then I rode to school, had a two hour meeting with the high school student I'm mentoring, spent a scintillating three hours editing an Excel spreadsheet, and another three slightly more scintillating hours watching lab-mates practice their presentations. The ride home was through crisp winter air, underneath bare-limbed trees silhouetted against a dusky sky. I made myself some dinner, did the dishes and headed down to the pub for trivia night. The pub was packed and, thanks to a new smoking ban, full of breathable air. After a few too many beers, I walked back home, thankful to not smell and feel like an old ashtray, and crawled into bed to read for a couple of hours. Eight hours later, I woke up, checked my email and headed back to Uni. I spent two hours working on a manuscript, another hour editing that damn Excel file, and caught up with the people who share my office. I was sitting at my desk eating lunch when I an email arrived from Z saying that he had reached his Manhattan hotel.
And that, my friends, is how far it is from Melbourne to New York.
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