Thursday
The sun peeps shyly through the morning mist, kissing my sleeping face through the window. I waken gently, reluctantly, drowsily. My bones feel heavy today. Sleep beckons me from the crinkled edge of my pillow, whispering sweet nothings. How I long to surrender to the seduction, to ignore the list of chores and drift back to dreamland. But the sun grows more persistent and it's rays are warmer now, forcing my body clock to stand to attention.
With a groan, I reach for my phone and that twee little owl that I love to hate. Je suis fatigue, I think. But the adrenalin of the Match Madness challenge pumps through my veins. Cheval, rapidement, boulangerie, froid! I'm on fire! Take that aggressive countdown clock. With flying fingers and slightly blurry vision, I amass a huge number of points in a short time. Then my double point potion runs out and so does my interest in the game.
The insistent yowling of the cat has morphed from a polite inquiry to death threat level. If he could, he'd be breaking down my door, so I haul my aching body out of bed, to release him from his house-shaped prison. He'll spend his morning torturing the wildlife in the garden to death. That little ginger monster looks at me with his dead yellow eyes - not bothering to hide his disdain. He'd kill me, if only I weren't fifty times his size, sinking his sharp white teeth into my skin and batting me about with those claws until I succumbed to my countless internal injuries.
My morning routine beckons - as I watch his fluffy tail and white socks disappear over the edge of the deck. Brush teeth, yoga with Adriene, journal about my insecurities, procrastinate, drink tea, check if anyone has liked a post on The Prose, doubt my ability to write, call my mum, check the time, freak out, have a shower, throw on clothes, feed the cat, imprison the cat, grab the car keys, lock the house, drive.
I sing loudly and out of tune as I dodge the gaping pot-holes on the gravel road and slowly wind my way up the mountain. The forest looks beautiful, there's something mysterious and elegant about eucalyptus trees. The frequent rain has left the landscape pulsing with life, everything is draped in greenery. Everything is thriving. I wish I was thriving. Most days I feel like I'm barely limping along.
Arrive at the farm, greet the dogs, drive the car onto the concrete slab, watch the Youtube video a second time, feel mildly confident. It's my first oil change - but how hard can it be? I jack the car up, until the whole front section is lifted off the ground, I place a thick piece of cardboard under the oil tank and the catch container. The hot oil nearly hits me in the face and the screw disappears into gathering black pool. I smile. I'm practically a mechanic.
The smile disappears when I realise the oil filter won't budge. Now the oil is draining, I can't move the car until I replace the oil filter and the oil. I curse my false confidence. Three Youtube videos and a phone call to my brother and I might have a solution. I find the correct tool and proceed to tighten the oil filter, rather than loosen it, before I realise I have my 'righty tighty, lefty loosey' mixed up. Everything is confusing underneath a car.
Once that's sorted, it takes no time at all to attach the new filter, fish the oil tank screw from the discarded oil, pour the new oil into the the tank, check the level and pack away all the tools I used. I feel powerful.
Lunch with a friend. Watermelon, cheese and crackers, a frittata filled with fresh vegetables from his garden, gluten free banana cake for dessert. A little glass of bubbly greases the wheels of conversation and soon I'm saying things that would be better kept to myself. It's tough being a chatty person sometime.
The afternoon melts away and soon the light is golden and I have to get back to my ginger overlord. We say our goodbyes and I pack the generous slice of frittata and banana cake into my bag. Then wind my way back down the mountain. I stop at the school and pick up my veggie box on the way. It's extra heavy this week and I can't wait to peep inside and see what produce I have to work with this week.
I feed the cat and then unpack the bounty. Watermelon, blueberries, baby spinach, rocket, eggplants, squash, pears, limes, tomatoes, mushrooms, pumpkin. What a treat! I slice off some watermelon and sit on the deck, watching the sun sink from the sky. It's so serene, except for the bloodthirsty mosquitos, who eventually drive me inside.
I brush my teeth, then roll into bed and put on a meditation. I fall asleep somewhere between the, 'find a comfortable position' and 'take a deep breath in.'