Cleaning can only be done incrementally. It would be an offence to all that long-standing mess to just heave it all out in one go. 

J’s Diary Entry

Sunday, 30 April, 1995

It’s mid morning (10.30am) and Leah and Aidan are still in bed.  I hope they’re just sleeping – thank God I never hear them doing it.  I wonder if they makes jokes about me rattling around this house like an old maid with nothing better to do than spoil young people’s love-making.

I feel like cleaning today.  Maybe I’ll do some more of my bedroom.  It can only be done incrementally.  It would be like an offence to all that long-standing mess to just heave it all out in one go.  All these mementos need individual respect before they are tossed into the bin.

The lovebirds have decided to stay one more weekend after this one.  Leah is going to find a 2 bedroom place in Carlton and advertise for a housemate.  I’m not sure whether I’ll be glad to see them go or not.  Cav said the other day that I had changed since they moved in.  He said I was “less irascible”.  I’m not sure whether to be flattered or offended.  I received the comment with a bemused smile and raised eyebrows.  The fact that Cav would couch his sentiment in those terms (“less irascible as opposed to “calmer”) might indicate that he doesn’t really respect me.  Or maybe I’m just over-analyzing the way he does.

Exactly six weeks to go until my one-year celibacy milestone.  The first of many, no doubt. Truly, truly depressing.


Monday, 1 May, 1995

Lovely, chilly morning. I could see my breath – first time this year.  I love that warm breath floating around you while you fold your arms tightly to ward off the cold.  It makes me feel like I have some company as I stroll to the tram stop.  It reminds me of waiting at the school bus stop, stamping my feet to keep warm in those thin grey trousers that flapped flimsily in the frigid morning wind.

Could school be so far away now that I actually miss it?  Not quite, thankfully.  I still remember the cruelty of school, both mine and others’.  I committed some of my most shameful acts at school.  It was at school that I cheated on Stella Wright, a most shameful and stupid act.  Then again, it’s only as shameful as the amount of regret I apportion it. There may well be incidents more hurtful and asinine, but I regret cheating on Stella Wright more because I feel that I let the best girlfriend I ever had get away.  God, this revelation is even more shameful, it shows how self-centered I am.  I regret my loss more than her pain – assuming she was upset, she may have been glad to be rid of me.


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