Oops. I enjoy another lie in, instead of getting up to write. I figure I need the sleep after my rubbish night on Sunday.
My day starts with a meeting in the city, which I don’t mind because it gives me the chance to get a coffee from Babooshka. I even pack my iPad and keyboard, thinking I might get the chance to catch up on some writing. The journey gets off to a bad start when I switch to autopilot and miss the freeway on-ramp. When I finally get onto the freeway, the traffic is stupidly heavy. I watch as my window for coffee and writing dwindles. I eventually pass the cause of the delay: there’s been a breakdown in the bus lane and some genius has placed a traffic signal directing drivers away from the bus lane (which they can’t drive in anyway). The result is that everyone approaching the breakdown thinks they need to merge out of their lane and, as we all know, Perth drivers really don’t do merging well.
I eventually have time to grab a takeaway coffee. There’s a homeless man loitering at the counter regaling the staff with incomprehensible tales of his exploits. I pay for my coffee with a twenty, and he immediately pulls out a fistful of his own twenty dollar notes to show me. I can’t understand a word he’s saying, but I kinda like him. I ask the staff if there’s a toilet. They tell me there is, but I’ll need a key. No sooner have they said it than the homeless man pulls a key out of his pocket. It turns out to be the key for the toilet. “I own this whole place,” he tells me. I thank him and go about my business.
The day ends with another meeting in the city. I check the map and am amused to see that the road I need to look out for at the end of my route is called Twickenham Road. Right next to it is Teddington Road. The town I grew up in was Twickenham. And the town right next to it? Teddington.
I get home and learn that the Elderbeast has been in trouble at school again. I decide to take away his console games, including the Switch, during the week again. It’s less of a punishment, and more because it’s the one clear thing I can see that dramatically affects his behaviour and I’m otherwise out of ideas.
The law firm that I’ve engaged to organise the settlement for me have hit me up for more money. The initial outlay has been, very generously, covered by my family back in England, but it’s already been spent. I go through the invoice and realise it’s not surprising when it costs me more than $40 every time I send an email, and twice that to get a response. I decide to pay the amount owing, but opt not to deposit the additional $1,000 requested for future services. My main concern was getting the paperwork completed authoritatively and accurately. That’s been done now. I decide I can take it the rest of the way on my own.