Category Archives: Domestica

I haven’t shaved for a week. I left my toiletries behind in Canberra.

My folks posted my stuff back to me. I bought a new toothbrush to tide me over until it arrived, but not a new razor.

Notification of a parcel arrived on Friday.

I went down to the post office off Acland Street to pick it up today.

More observant readers will already have anticipated that this was in fact the wrong post office. My parcel was being held at a post office which is actually a newsagent on Fitzroy Street.

After stopping at the supermarket, and also making an appointment for a haircut tomorrow (the hair on my head is getting a bit unkempt ‘n’ all), I walked over there.

I passed this milkbar just off Grey Street. Bizarrely, directly across the road, there’s a sign indicating a different milkbar 20 metres down the street in the opposite direction. One can only assume the City of Port Philip has some kind of grudge against the proprietors of this particular milkbar.

I arrived at the post office which is actually a newsagent just before they closed at 5:30pm and retrieved the parcel.

I came home and found, to my substantial surprise and delight, that the phone and leckie bills had both arrived – conveniently reminding me that I really need to get another job.

I unpacked my shopping: I bought tuna, tomatoes and apples.

And I opened the package. In addition to my toiletries, it contained a wayward pair of socks I didn’t even realise were missing.

Here are some more photos I took today for the purposes of not working on my CV:

The kitchen sink & the bathroom sink, respectively

The space directly to the left of my tv

The former fishtank of Feustus the goldfish was cleaned out yesterday in a short ceremony intended to symbolise both the sadness of loss and the consoling hope of renewal. The order of proceedings was as follows:

1. The stagnating water once occupied by the departed was poured down the sink. As a gesture of respect, no photo was taken during this stage of the operation.



2. The newly deliquified fishtank was placed on the stove with its Christmas ribbon artfully draped off one side, and captured for posterity.



3. An additional photograph was taken, emphasising the presence of the gravel in the fishtank.



4. The gravel was transferred transitionally to a large ceramic mixing bowl chosen especially for the purpose, and photographed in this new setting.



5. The fishtank was carefully cleaned using hot water and a new wettex, opened expressly for the ceremony and subsequently disposed of, with no regard to expense.



6. The fishtank was placed on a draining rack and photographed once again.



7. The gravel was returned to the fishtank.



8. The tank was returned to its home on the bookshelf, to await the arrival of a new occupant. A final photograph was taken, marking the conclusion of the ceremony.

With absolutely impeccable timing, the Tax Office has decided that I owe them $300. From 2003. With interest.

I hope they die.

My goldfish Feustus, a Christmas present from my sisters, died while I was at work on Saturday. I don’t know why. He’d seemed a bit unhappy for the last few weeks, but I don’t think he was neglected in any way.

Vale Feustus.

Directly after I took his photo, the display on the camera also died, leaving it capable of taking only pictures of blackness.

I refused to interpret these occurrences as omens.