Saturday, 4 May 1996 12:30pm Yeah, yeah… in on a Saturday. I don’t feel that I put in too good a performance this week, so I’m in here now trying to boost the week’s tally. I’m keying the questionnaires the companies fill in and send back. It’s not such bad work, each one’s a bit different. You do have to use your brain a little. … Continue reading It’s not how much you’ve had – it’s how bad you feel.
Tuesday, 30 April 1996 8:50am Oh God, This time it’s for real Sis. I have to decide on a career. I’m going to be twenty-fucking-four in a few months, and I’m still bumbling along in this job I stumbled into. This job which is going to lead nowhere. What brought on this fit of fear I hear you ask? I went over and visited Leah … Continue reading It’s a curly one, isn’t it?
Friday, 26 April 1996 Howdy Sis o’ Mine, Still sittin’ here in Melbourne, Autumn chill closin’ in around me. Trying hard to ignore the blustery football analysis that trumpets around, usually on Monday, but today on a Friday. It was ANZAC day yesterday, and there were a few games played. I actually walked through the park near the MCG yesterday as the people swarmed … Continue reading Sitting in Death’s Waiting Room.
Thursday, 11 April 1996 8:30pm Hey Sis, Sitting here, on a rainless night, thinking about nothing, as in not thinking nothing but thinking about nothing. I do this sometimes at work, or when I’m bored. Think of it. Nothing. No matter, so no space. No time. Hmmm. There’s no time. I guess time doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Time is only measurable in its effect … Continue reading Girls either tart right up or slob right down after a break up. I suppose men do the same but lack the dramatic apparatus of make-up and mini-skirts.
Tuesday, 9 April 1996 9:48pm Hey Sis, How you doing? Another typed letter from your bro. Poorly typed an’ all. It’s raining here, on Easter Tuesday. Jana Wendt is on Channel 7, hosting her new (and deskless, might I add) show, “Witness”. It’s quite highbrow, long pieces on “real” issues. I do suspect, however, that she is sans desk simply to show off her legs. … Continue reading I’m drunk on juicy office gossip.
Wednesday, 27 March 1996 Hey Sis, Back at work, another Wednesday trickles through. Stayed back at work last night ’til 7:30pm. Yessiree, nailed back up on the cross for another edition. Whatchya been doin”? Avoiding British beef most likely. (Snigger snigger). So are you giving beef the big miss? Creutzfeldt-Jakob. It has a good sound to it, it’s the Creutz that gets my vote, I … Continue reading Mother Nature knows where you live.
An Aside from S In this letter J says that he is typing his 1996 diary and that it is filed in a folder – I have never seen/found this folder which is why there are no diary excerts for 1996. He also writes about protecting and destroying his diary… Sunday, 17 March 1996 Hey Sis, here’s an overdue letter, eh? Sorry to … Continue reading How long is 90 seconds? I’ll tell you.
Monday, 29 February 1996 Sis, It’s leap year day, last one for eight years apparently. Some glitch in the cosmos, I don’t pretend to understand. Spent the day blanched by the suffocating heat, indulging in office gossip shenanigans. I love the word shenanigans. There it is again, shenanigans, shenanigans. Made castles in Spain with Scottish Lisa in the tea room. I was going to write a … Continue reading And so my great journey across the desert of Coitus Non-Existus continues…
Monday, 5 February 1996 11:08 am So Friday I go over to “Klicks” for drinks. I’ve worked out my budget, and I know I really ought to go after two or three beers, because I’ve got this pub crawl thing with Quinn on Saturday night. Quinn used to work here, now he’s in advertising with a four day week and an enormous bloody salary. Anyway, … Continue reading These fellas were wading through the vomit-lake and heaving with jocularity like Vikings. I quickly fled the scene.
Tuesday, 31 January 1996 10:38am Hey S, just heard some news that falls somewhat short of what might be described as serendipitous. Do you remember that fuss I worked myself up into over that girl from the Croissant Connection Cafe girl? The name they gave her here at work (everyone here gets a nickname – except me – call me Mr Teflon, nothing sticks) was … Continue reading They call her “Cats Bum”.
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