Thursday, 10 March 1994
Hi, the Despatch Boy (ok it is weird calling him Despatch Boy now that he has a son) is away again, so Simon is filling in for him which leaves me companionless for the day, which leads me to ponder things best left un-pondered. Such as the moral nature of these undertakings with Leah.
I’m beginning to think that I should leave now and move my stuff to Mum’s and then move it again when the house is available. I’m starting to feel a little double faced in this respect, and I’m not sure whether or not I am doing something wrong because like most human beings, I can justify and rationalise just about anything to pander to my selfish ways. What I mean is that I can twist things around to make them seem less dishonourable to myself, and this is something I want to avoid, so I’d really appreciate your opinion on this, Sis.
The honourable course of action just seems too fraught with difficulty. If I go now, what does Brett do?, although a scenario has just occurred to me that may offer a solution. When I move out, the most likely outcome will be that Leah moves back to her mother’s, and one month later when Penny cannot find anyone else to pay $100 a week for our room, she’ll abandon the house, and then Brett can move in with me, thus dispelling any appearance of collusion between Brett and I. I must remember to tell him about this. The one danger in this, though, is if Leah moves out and asks Brett to move in with her, though this is unlikely. You see what I mean? I’m becoming very scheming, and it’s all to avoid confrontation.
The one big problem with the honourable path is the prospect of cohabitation with Mum again. I love her heaps, but to live together again presents an unknown quantity, we’ve both changed since I moved out and no doubt are both more set in our ways, but the idea of living this lie with Leah for another three weeks or so is becoming a more and more grim prospect by the day. I don’t know whether it says something about me or the relationship that I am putting such a high priority on practicality in regards to this matter. Am I cold or has the relationship simply degraded to this point? So many questions, and without some dogmatic organised religion to give me all the answers, no immediate resolution. Perhaps I should physically draw up my own moral code to adhere to in the absence of a sensible, recognisable and accessible social set of ethics. It sounds a bit ham-fisted and silly, but it is not without its merits. Fuck, it sounds like I’m on the road to founding my own cult! What would I call it? The Disciples of Dogma? The Followers of Falstaff? The latter appeals to me, personally. Now that man really set a design for living. I’m getting a bit off the point here aren’t I?
Anyway, I’d really appreciate your opinion on this S, as someone from an exterior point of view with experience in this field. I really create problems for myself, don’t I? First it was “Should I leave? Should I stay?” and now it’s “How should I leave?” I suppose that our lives are as simple or complicated as we make them. Maybe life would be simpler if I surrounded myself with simpletons. That’s an amusing notion, though without wishing to be unkind, I know of at least one simpleton who’s made his life more complicated than your Multi-Directional, Trans-Continental With-a-Creek-Running-Through-the-Middle, Magic Roundabout in peak hour traffic a.k.a Dad or The Father. I can never resist the cheap shot, it’s a real fault of mine.
I’d better get back to the grind, this book isn’t going to prepare itself after all.