I’m waiting at the Legal Aid office to get some advice about my upcoming property settlement. Needless to say it’s a dull experience, punctuated by the typing on my iPhone, the shuffle of papers, the muffled choke of a straining air conditioner and the murmurs of hushed and sullen conversations.
It’s not as depressing as it sounds (alright, it is as depressing as it sounds, but I’m somewhat biased since I suffer from long-term depression). My property settlement has been dragging on for several years now, and needs to be finalised soon, otherwise the process could start getting messy. Hah! As if it wasn’t messy already.
On a brighter note, I’m house sitting for the next few days, looking after a friend’s place while they’re on holiday. It’s nice to get out of my familiar womb every once in a while, even if it’s only to remind myself I’m not a monk. Actually, I may as well be one, since I’ve given up on online dating (meant to blog about that; reminder: blog about giving up online dating) until I’m in a better frame of mind. Based on previous experience, that may be never. But hopefully, sooner. Is ‘sooner’ part of the almost infinite measure of ‘never’? Is it a measurement at all? My brain hurts.
As I’m living in town the next few days I think I might do some busking. Busking, I hear you say? Yes, busking. I’m a poor, mature age student—emphasis on the poor. I’m also a musician, and this is the most convenient opportunity to play (read: embarrass myself) in public and maybe make a few bucks while I’m at it. Or not. Maybe I’ll make enough to cover my on-street parking fees? I guess it’ll depend on how much people enjoy my caterwauling.
Take care, all. I’ll tell you how it all works out.