July 23

On Thursday morning I woke up at 5 am and started worrying. Here are some of the things I worried about, in order of appearance:
1. Marcin's visa. His case officer (henceforth referred to as Klaus- that really is his name) is AWOL and doesn't answer his emails or his phone calls. What if he is refused and I have to survive my state of suspended monogamy until the end of the year and then go to live in a country with 4 million Catholics and no vowels?
2.My future. Closely linked to point 1. Will I end up Warsaw housewife or a lifetime transcriber? Neither option looks appealing.
3. My tax return. Having not lodged one for the past 10 years I should probably start to consider the possibility of the ATO kneebreakers turning up unannounced on the doorstep. This led me into thinking about
4. the PAP smear police. I owe somebody $40 for the pleasure of having my vagina excavated which I have not gotten around to paying. See above re: visits from the kneebreakers.
5. When I went for a blood test in Jordan and they euphemistically declared me 'free of contagious and infectious diseases', did they definitely mean AIDS? because I have been watching Angels in America which reminds me that it's not a disease I would like to have.

These are only selected highlights and of course as any dedicated fretter knows the options are endless at that time of day and in that frame of mind. Things improved somewhat when I found out that there are jobs open for transcription supervisers and the office manager asked me to apply. At least I wouldn't have to listen to irate callers telling the robot what they think of it for 8 hours a day (and the irascibilty quotient has just gone up because now we're dealing with Americans.)

On Thursday night I went with Bob and Cameron and Liz to see Margaret Cho at the Enmore theatre. She made a lot of political satire and I realised how far out of it I am when it comes to current events. I have been steadfastly ignoring all media for so long now that even Pope jokes and reminders of the idiocy of George Bush have regained some of their novelty. I'm ashamed to say that I buy the newspaper so that I can play the word game with 9 letters in a box and read the book reviews and the House and Garden section (did I mention that I am nesting with a vengeance?) and then throw the rest away. The content bores me and the sensationalist language embarrasses me and that's my excuse if anyone is interested.

Back to school next week so there will be ample opportunities for diary updates as I hang around the library reading the desk graffitti and pining for my Prospective spouse. Stay tuned.