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19:32 Thu 5 June 03

Quite foolishly stayed up til 4 this morning - til 2.40am reading thebusride (from the beginning) and after that reading my current book.

Not that I wasn't tired before all that. I was just being stubborn.

Woke around 11 with a hangover-type headache, which pissed me off no end. I had half a glass of white wine sometime after 10pm... and it gave me a headache? wtf?? Normally my "limit" is 3 glasses, and after that I can expect to get a headache or blocked sinuses. So, half a glass? Meh.

Anyway.

Got up, went online for a bit, logged off, had a shower (finally), went up the road and drew out a quarter of my benefit, then came home and used phone banking to split the remainder between my credit cards, to keep them afloat until the loan comes through and I can pay them off completely.

Rang the solicitors to confirm that I would be picking up the CT this arvo, then rang C3ntr3link to ask them why my statement of income was taking so long (although really, I know that whatever they send always seems to take forever to arrive, but this is urgent, dammit). They said I should have it today, so I waited til 2pm for the postman, then could wait no longer and had to do the two-sides-of-a-triangle thing with the buses to get to the solicitors, then the same thing to come home again.

It was very windy today. The CT is only lightweight card (maybe 120gsm) and for purposes of discretion it is kept in a white A4-size envelope... So I exited the solicitors clutching this thing to my chest while the wind whipped my hair every-which-way (although I did put it up in a plait to minimise the tangling) and I waited to cross the road and get a bus back to Central.

Nearly got blown into the road twice while waiting at Central - it was that windy. :(

Couldn't get a seat to start with on the homebound bus and when it braked unexpectedly I stumbled and banged my left breast against one of the verticals. I said "ouch" and tears came to my eyes, but I figured I'd just have to deal with it til I could get a seat, or got to my stop, whichever came first. Fortunately a hip young Japanese guy noticed my distress and gave me his seat. So in my left hand was the CT in its envelope and in my right, my left breast. I did try to be discreet... hopefully nobody thought I was fondling myself.

Got home (at a quarter to five), checked the letterbox - nothing from C3ntr3link, of course (bastards! and bastard postal system, too), came in, put the CT in the top of the wardrobe for the time being and disrobed to examine my injury. Nasty purple bruise coming up, and tender, and hot. Great, just what I need. Not.

Sat down to look at the loan documents again but fell asleep over them (an awful lot of legalese that I'm annoyed to find I'm not intelligent enough to understand after all), waking only when H rang. He'd rung earlier in the day, while I was waiting for the postman, to tell me that originally he was going to take the day off work today because his arthritis was really bad, but then work had rung with "an urgent cash job" (he's a courier - that's all I know) so he'd done that one and been paid on the spot so he could fuel up, and apparently his point was that he wouldn't need to sponge off me "for at least a couple of days".

I found it extremely strange that he'd rung to tell me this. There was really no need to tell me. I don't require a blow-by-blow report on a daily basis, for goodness' sakes...

Anyway, I didn't say anything about that but did ask how much his arthritis medication cost (he mentioned on Tuesday that he'd been having "flare-ups" because he couldn't afford the medication at the moment). He said it was about $25 and I said I wanted him to get a script and I'd put it on my visa card. So he rang back in the evening to arrange this.

him: "I'm really busy, I'm sorry, so I won't be able to spend much time with you this evening."
me: "That's okay. I wasn't expecting you to. I just want you to have your medication. It's important."

So he came by to collect me and we went to his chemist of choice (which happens to be the place that refused to refill my script when I was waiting on my new Medicare card, so it's my least-fave place, actually on my personal boycott list, but never mind)... where they seemed to have an awful lot of trouble understanding that person B was paying for person A's medication. Fuckers.

And then we drove back again.

He's going to lose his Fender if he can't put a payment on it by Tuesday. Since Monday is a public holiday (Queen's Birthday long weekend) and I couldn't send the documents back for the loan today because I'm still waiting on my statement of income from social security, I can't see the money coming through on Tuesday, so tomorrow I'm going to take the Dutch East Indies banknote collection into town and try to find a dealer who'll give me what it was worth last time I had it valued (which was a couple of years ago).

Or maybe I should ring H and find out whether where he's got the Fender hocked takes visa... and of course, how much he's supposed to pay.

Dammit, I just don't want him to lose his bass!

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