11:30am Stream Of Consciousness

In my last week of relaxation before I start work again, the following thoughts temporarily activated dormant synapses this morning as I wandered down to the local Provisions store for milk, trying to soak up the final days...

It's bloody hot. Not so bad today, but the east coast has been saturated with 90-110F (32-43C) temps for weeks. Punctuated by an excellent lightning show most nights, and a small downpour that cools nothing, and adds 20 percent to the existing 93% humidity, resulting in total humidity levels only Squarepants could understand.

With the first point in mind, I love the sound of cicadas now permating the neighbourhood.

With the first point in mind, I hate the fact that my building has two broken elevators out of two. The move from floor 3 to floor 6 brought many benefits, like a great view and the chance to live with a great woman. But tomorrow, when I bring her and her airport luggage home, it's gonna suck.

I will miss the crew from The Old Company, even though I will be working with three of them, and be near enough to a few others, it won't be the same again. I'll definitely miss the Man of Cheese. Here's one of the last photos.

Damned if I could remember what Yerka Mig looked like, but Japanese SWCCG cards are still cool.

Streaming internet radio through iTunes straight to your lounge room stereo is awesome. Currently, I am munching on the "Groove Salald" ambient channel. Mmmmm.

I forgot to tell my wife about The Mannequin. Curses. Those at Moes who said I should leave myself a message were right.

Soccer is a fickle mistress. Five days after the goal of my life, I crunched my penalty against the keeper's feet, (in fact, our team failed to convert a single one after a 4-4 draw) and we got dumped out of the OTSL tournament. Frankly, it was too bloody hot anyhow.

The Ashes cricket series starts tomorrow. Here's hoping Australia win at Lords within 4 days, as I won't have regular internet access from within my training course next Monday. Even Fox Soccer Channel gave me 5 minutes of Ashes coverage last night, but if they keep pronouncing "McGrath" as if the "th" isn't silent, I'll go spare.