Here now

Yep, so here I am, moved in. Moved in to the new suburb, miles away from where home was before. My life is dotted with cardboard boxes still, as is normal with moving. I think one unpacks asymptopically - ie all in a rush to start with and then graduallly lessening out until there is the residual level of unpackedness which gets lower and lower but never reaches zero. Or maybe that's just me.

I think I am a little tipsy after a bath and glass (or two) of red wine. Finished my book in the bath, which is always nice. About to turn in.

Did I mention that I can walk to work now? First day i arrived just past 8. Felt very pleased. Next day 8.30. Today 9.30. But note - the eating of breakfast, doing of washing, reading of book, writing in diary, writing of postcards, all before work. Tres productive.

Today I noticed two seperate temptations that lurk all very red riding hood like on the trail through the forest to grandma's house. Oh hang on, the wolf wasn't a temptation was he? just a threat. Well maybe the analogy is a crap one. Let's move on. On the way to work there are about a trillion bokshops. Open early. With cafes. And second hand books. Old Orange penguin Virginia Wolfs for under $5. I found myself in one of these bookshelves this morning, like a sleepwalker, I kind of drifted in, without really deciding to be there. Caressing books I realistically wont have time to read before now and?? Next month? Next year? My 'to read' pile is already long. I had to haul my sorry city ass out of the shop, away from the handmade cards, the cushioned window-seat, the smell of freshly ground coffee from their coffee machine, away from the staggering bunch of oriental lillies perched in glass vase on top of book case, away from everything I wanted to smelll and touch and taste and read, and continue my way to the brown towering office building instead. To be well behaved and productive. Poor little red riding hood.

On the way home I face a very different temptation. It is the zillion cheap takeaway shops that tempt me to stop and eat greasy samosas or sad dry sushi rolls, even as I lug my shoulder bag of organic groceries and dinner plans homewards. especially if I stay too late at work and it is legitimately dinner time and my very cells are crying out for sustenance as they carry me home, propellling me forwards. I almost lost my nerve right at the end today and stood in a hideous tiny grocery store no bigger than a small service station shop, having bought emergency 'oops I forgot' cat food and then become mesmerised by the tiny little containers of gelato in the stand up fridge. My brain went 'hungry.' and another bit of my brain went 'yes I know you're hungry, come on, time to go home, cook this organic rye linguini with basil, yum yum.' 'coffee gelato, mmmm.' 'Uhhuh, I'm sure it's nice but it's not exactly dinner is it, come on, time to go...' 'or mango. Mmmmm mango'. 'Oh for fucksakejustgowillyou getawayfromthatfridgeandgetgoing???!!' My internal food pyramid fan won, and snack desires went unfulfilled. I'm thinking some good mid-arvo snacks at the desk are in order.. Nuts and fruit? A yoghurt perhaps? Something to tide me over.

See? And you thought city life would make me all cosmopolitan and interesting. Huh! How wrong you were...