The alarm wakes me up at 6:20am. I prepare to get up … and the next thing I know it’s an hour later and I’m still in bed! I figure I must have needed the extra sleep, so I don’t beat myself up about it. It does mean I’ll miss my morning shift, but there are two mitigating factors: it’s Australia Day, which means no work, which in turn means I may get some writing in later in the day; I’m also mildly stuck on the new story and some more time to work my way (mentally) through the impasse might actually be useful.

We don’t celebrate Australia Day with much vigour in our household: it’s too complex a day to either celebrate freely, or protest blindly. For all the talk of changing the date (which absolutely should happen) the real discussion needs to be about what Australia Day should mean, and how it can be a positive celebration for everyone. For now, I can’t celebrate a day that has come to symbolise the massacre and displacement of the indigenous population. We do, however, happily devote our day to the Triple J Hottest 100, which is something worth celebrating.

It’s otherwise a deliberately lazy day. I make one excursion: heading to the shops for some mid-morning pastries and other sundries. I play with the kids intermittently and draft a blog post about rejection (I still need to get my fourth ‘blog like a yoyo’ post in this month).

We cap off the day by watching Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, with I’ve never seen. It’s ok, but I feel it’s one Alan Rickman performance away from being another Waterworld or The Postman. Kevin Costner is likeable enough, but I find myself wondering how he managed to end up one of Hollywood’s biggest stars way back when. He seems like The Guy who got the lead role just because he’s The Guy, and not because he able to carry the movie or bring any real conviction to the proceedings.