life in exile

It’s a clear Sunday afternoon – still, cool, mostly sunny – the perfect weather for running. And it’s been a helluva week: a bathroom sink shattered by a stray perfume bottle and the sudden discovery that my tyres are unroadworthy wiped out a week’s wages between them, and that was before I was struck down with a hacking cough, swollen glands, eye/ear/ head-aching lurgy right in the midst of a deadline AND had my car towed.

At the time I put these things in perspective – why cry over spilt milk, worse things happen at sea, etc. I went sink-shopping at Bunnings, drove extra slow in the rain and made an appointment to get new tyres fitted on the weekend. I put Bon Iver on my iPod, knocked back Lemsip at four-hourly intervals and ploughed through a week’s worth of corrections at work in the one day I was given to do them. And when I stepped outside on that rainy Tuesday and realised in a split second that the price I was to pay for working through lunch and forgetting to move my car would be $325 and a two-hour round trip, including taking two trains in peak hour and navigating my way across the Hoddle Street intersection and down a dark alley in the rain, I didn’t so much as swear or sigh. I just pulled out my phone and began hunting for clues as to what the bastards had done with my car.

Now though, with the car back in my possession and a new sink and tyres secured (but with my credit card maxed out, my lungs still underwater and my eyes feeling twice their size and rolled in sawdust) the blues have set in. Plus, after dealing with things boldly and nobly on your own, there’s nothing like a whinge to family and friends to unravel things and have you starting to believe your own hype – leading, inevitably, to self pity. The run of bad luck, the lost dollars, the magazine that still hasn’t been put to bed – this is exactly the time when belting around a park track for 5k would solve everything. Unfortunately, due to the aforementioned plague, this is not an option. So from the confines of my sick bed, this horrid feeling grows and grows…