“Why did you do it?” The judge asked Jane Sutton, a 16 year old student from Queen’s College. Academic, popular, beautiful, rich and from an impeccable family… why did she go on a staggering shoplifting spree totalling over $20,000 on a fake credit card? “You didn’t need any of this stuff! You had it all.”
Jane didn’t want to speak or acknowledge her crimes in any way. Indeed, she was on suicide watch, and no one would’ve blamed her for taking her life. They would’ve done it too if they’re been this stupid and brought such unfathomable shame and disgrace, not only on her own name, but also her family. Her mother was the Australian CEO of the Red Cross and her father was the Bishop of Sydney, although they were both feeling pressured to resign. After causing so much trauma to those she loved and loved her more than life itself, she couldn’t bear to admit why she did it.
She was bored.
Geoff and I were in Carcoar, near Bathurst last week and marvelled at this gorgeously quaint village time forgot. Such a shame the courthouse wasn’t open while we were there. It really is a step back in time.
This has been a contribution to Stream of Consciousness Saturday hosted by Linda G. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “board/bored.” Use one, or use them both for bonus points. Enjoy!
How are you? I hope you are well and not freezing or burning to death whatever your particular situation might be. It’s Winter here and we’ve had a chilly day here just when we were starting to dream of Spring and cutting back on all the layers.
How was your week? Good, I hope.
in terms of what I’ve been up to, I finished my Freelance Writing Course with the Australian Writers’ Centre a few weeks ago. Although I’ve paid for two more courses, I put them on hold so I could just let that one sink in. I’m also needing to reorganise the house and create some decent work and storage place for me to freelance. Being organised and on the ball will be very important and isn’t something which comes naturally.
Indeed, trying to set up a work area at home is almost as challenging as pitching to an editor(which I’m sure I don’t need to explain is rather scary!!) For the last two years, I’ve been set up with my computer etc in the loungeroom where I enjoy the comfort of reverse-cycle air-conditioning and a cosy leather recliner with a dog on my lap who doesn’t seem to mind the keyboard perched across his back. However, my desk is actually parked at the other end of the house looking out onto the garden. It’s quite a lovely room with plenty of natural sunlight. However, in Summer it turns into a furnace and you need sunglasses, a hat and sunscreen at the peak of Summer. The reverse applies in Winter and it turns into an icebox. (Well, at least, by Sydney standards). As you might’ve gathered, it doesn’t have air-conditioning or heating. In fact, at the moment, my desk doesn’t even have power. When we had the solar panels installed on the roof, somehow the installers managed to disconnect the back room from power.
As if my workspace wasn’t already seriously challenged enough, it was also buried alive under layer up on layer of detritus (that sounds like a much better word than crap and clutter is too refined.)
Please don’t fall over and die from shock. For a few hours today, the desk was completely clear. I could even admire the woodgrain, which is very rare indeed. However, my triumph didn’t last. Unfortunately, all the stuff I’d piled up on the kitchen table had to move. Fortunately, not all of it went back and I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to get it clear tomorrow. Of course, I’ll need to get the power sorted out. However, in the meantime, I’ll be able to read, plan and do some old school writing i.e.as in using pen and paper.
So, getting my office situation set up is going to keep me busy for awhile but I am on my way.
Last week, as some of you would’ve already found out, we had an intriguing visitor at our place -Tallulah who was one of the baby simulation dolls which are often used as part of sex-ed. However, in this instance, Miss is doing child studies and every student had the “baby” for two days where they were supposed to respond to their cries and either change the nappy or feed them and they also needed to change their outfit. All of these tasks were monitored by its inbuilt computer system with particular attention to supporting the head properly at all times and, of course, reporting any harm. Miss had really been looking forward to the doll coming home. However, after 24 hours she changed her tune and abandoned ship. She’s had a cold and is really busy with dance, working at McDonald’s and school and was quite rational about it all in the end. She needed the sleep. Meanwhile, I wrote a post about my experience: Becoming An Instant Grandmother.
This week, I also took part in the Stream of Consciousness Saturday #SoCS for the first time. I really enjoyed it and was very pleased with the results. Here’s a link to my story: The Network Guy. In case you’re wondering, it’s about an IT Network Engineer like my husband, but this story is fictional.
Lastly, I couldn’t write about my week without mentioning two Aussie singing greats who passed away this week. Firstly, we lost the great Judith Durham from The Seekers. You might want to join me is singing along to Georgie Girl.
Then, there came heartbreak. Judith Durham was more from my parents’ era. However, the death of Olivia Newton-John was something else altogether. She’s been fighting cancer for a long time. So, it didn’t come as a surprise, but I was sad. However, instead of feeling devastated, I reflected on many happy memories and the joie de vivre she carried with her everywhere she went with her “love and light”. Personally, I can’t go past Olivia in Grease. I had a slumber party for my 13th birthday and we watched Grease on the VCR which was new tech back in 1982. One of the girls had been living in America and she’d already seen Grease 13 times and I was so impressed. Of course, that launched my own Grease marathon rewinding the tape and starting over. I have to include two songs from Grease in my ONJ tribute: You’re The One That I Want and at a slower pace: Hopelessly Devoted To You.
Anyway, that’s enough from me for this week. Now, it’s over to you.
Thanks to Dan Antion over at No Facilities I have been lured into a new to me blog challenge this weekend- Stream of Consciousness Saturday #SoCS which is kindly hosted by Linda G Hill. Please head over there to get the full rules for the challenges, but here are the details for this week’s prompt. I must say I really enjoyed it. It’s been a good 20-30 years since I’ve done a strict stream of consciousness piece and was quite pleased with the results, which have more than a grain of truth.
“Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is starts with ‘u.’ Find a word that starts with the letter ‘u’ and use it however you’d like. Bonus points if it’s the first word in your post. Enjoy!”
“Ultimately, it’s not your responsibility. You can walk away. It’s only a job. There are plenty of others,” Kate told her husband who was the sole network engineer at Parliament House since covid and the staff cutbacks. The Australian people had no idea that Australia’s political and economical stability all rested on Mike’s aching shoulders. That he was the very one person holding this country together like a wretched safety pin. Sure, he was reliable, but he wasn’t infallible.
“What if I get covid? What happens then?” he asked.
“They’ll replace you. Everyone’s replaceable. You know that.” She said, telling him what he wanted to hear, and what the CIO* wanted to believe. However, Mike knew that wasn’t true. No one else cared about the network or understood its intricate inner workings like he did, and nobody fought to maintain its integrity and reliability either. Management should’ve been called “mismanagement”. They didn’t care about people, and they had no mechanical empathy either.
“Why don’t you just walk away before it’s too late, Mike? Your blood pressure’s skyrocketing. You’ve got pre-diabetes and I don’t mean to sound judgmental but you’ve really stacked on the kilos. We could sell up. Move to the country without a mortgage and be free from it all.”
Mike loved his wife, but just for this instance she was sounding like the devil. That wretched serpent luring, enticing him into sin: “You don’t have to go to work tomorrow,” he could hear this enticing voice luring him away. “Walk away. Leave them to deal with the consequences. If the entire country falls into a screaming heap, it’s not your fault. You’re just a cog in the machine. You could actually be lying in a deck chair by the pool sipping piña coladas without a care in the world.”
It all sounded way to good to be true, but he knew it was possible. The house was paid off. They had money in the bank. They could be free. Yet, Mike couldn’t be the one. He couldn’t be the one who brought Australia to its knees – even if it wasn’t his fault he was the only man left standing.
“You know, Mike, it would be really nice if you could just forget about work even for one night and give me your 100% undivided attention. I know that data centre isn’t another woman, but I can’t help feeling you understand it better than me and care more about keep it happy than me.”
“Crikey!” That’s what Mike dreaded more than a total network outage right across Parliament House where all that vitriol usually reserved for their political opponents suddenly hurled itself at him. At least,he knew he stood a chance of fixing that. His wife was a different story and while he wasn’t just capable of understanding machines, he didn’t do well when the going got tough. Got stuck on the finer points of interpersonal communication. That’s when he usually resorted to flowers or chocolates. He didn’t know how they did the trick, but they worked. That’s all that mattered.
Right on cue, his mobile rang. It was work. Almost in synch with his wife, the server was down. Couldn’t be dealt with remotely. He had to go in.”
Kate didn’t even need to ask. She knew where she came in the pecking order, and she knew he’d be back with flowers, chocolates anything but himself.
“A dose of covid,” she wondered, “might not be a curse after all. Indeed, long covid could even be the answer.”
CIO = Chief Information Officer
Hope you enjoyed it, and I’d love to hear from you.