One of the few joys of being perennially single is the relative calm. One's life may be devoid of passion, but it's also blissfully devoid of improperly squeezed toothpaste tubes and expended loo rolls being left on the dispenser.
While my NOvember Compatriot had found herself seeking solace in the judgement free embrace and warm loving light of the refrigerator, I was curled up on the sofa watching Ben Hur. With my cat. Not really missing the bottle of Sangiovese I should have been drinking. Nothing beats an unconditional furry feline cuddle and I got plenty of those. Namely as a result of me not feeding him until just before I was ready to sleep.
Judge if you want, but there's absolutely no difference between manipulating your boyfriend and manipulating your cat. Ok, one does occaisionally put out, whereas if the other were to it would most likely result in a lifetime animal ownership ban, but the two are incredibly alike. If they bitch, give them food to shut them up. If they're disinterested hold onto the goods until they give you what you want. And if you don't give them what they want they reward you with dirty looks and emotional blackmail until you either cave in, or continue to withhold the goods and they change tack out of sheer necessity.
Avoiding grog is actually proving to be easier than I first thought. Alcohol has always performed one vital purpose (keeping my geekdom down to socially acceptable levels) but I'm reembracing my interest in nearly everything. Instead of half perching on my balcony contemplating existential nonsense and hating Men, I've been reading and contemplating issues that are probably of no interest to anyone else. Such as the Barangaroo Development in Sydney Harbour (Why can't this be built as an Enterprise Zone? Is the mix of land uses appropriate and will it create an organic sense of Place? Do we need a natural shoreline or should we create a functional berthing space rather than moving the Overseas Passenger Terminal to Rozelle? Why the hell is Sydney so incapable of grasping the simple concept of Urban Legibility?).
Among other happy topics- AIDS in Africa, the Eurozone Debt Crisis, the South Atlantic Anomaly's effects (A quirk in the Earth's magnetic field which brings a portion of the Van Allen Radiation belts into Low Earth Orbit which tends to not only scramble satellites, but also cause exposed astronauts to 'see' shooting stars. Anti Protons are Neat.)
Or namely just what the hell I'm going to do with my life. It just seems that there is so much in the world and given the brevity of the Human lifespan, how am I going to fit it all in? So much adrenaline to be had- I've actually managed to find a place that does commercial HALO Jumps (Skydiving from above 35 000 feet with a portable oxygen supply)- commiting to something like that would normally require a bit of Australian Courage but I appear happy to make the same foolish drunken commitments- while stone cold sober.
I've always blamed booze for my recklessness- but maybe I'm just nuts to begin with?
I wouldn't have it any other way.
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