Back in Melbourne. Got off plane only to run shrieking to the beauty salon having realised that whilst putting my bags in the compartments above people’s heads on the plane that I would have greatly pleased the Wilderness Society for under my arms was old growth forest. Fine for ferals, but not fine for my swanky goth wedding bridesmaids attire. Then ran shrieking off to wedding rehearsal…walked an imaginary carpet for an hour or so and finally made it home. M worked last night and got in late. Something that I muttered at him as he went to bed (which I think might have been ‘Holy crap I thought you were a burglar’) seemed to spark a memory in his head. He then snuck from the room and rescued the flowers he’d hidden in his little shed all day and brought them in under the cover of darkness. Though, of course, it wasn’t that dark. And then when I turned on the light and did smitten girly squealing it wasn’t dark at all. I’m so easily pleased. The ultimate low-maintenance girlfriend.

I came home from Canberra with the sum total of 40 cents in my world, but I did bring M a very cool shirt which he likes and is going to parade at the wedding (where we will not see each other, for apparently the bridal party - of which I am a member - sits together.) My Mastercard is perspiring gently at the thought of being overused again today. I haven’t bought a wedding present yet, and in an evil way, am feeling slightly mutinous about doing so as I have to hand over $100 tomorrow for hair and make-up. If I had more money and was more wedding minded I would probably kick myself down the stairs for being such a cheap cow…but as it is…MOO.

This afternoon is a major anti-war rally in city and I would very much like to go. I am, however, being dragged to Carrum by the Bureau of Meteorology for reasons that I am too dumb to understand. Some kind of briefing or something. I was blithely informed that ‘these things are notorious for running over time, we should be back in the city by six’. Well - this is No Good for me and my protest plans. Bloody bloody bloody. Many people I know are attending and I want to attend too. I think I shall have to lie and say that the wedding rehearsal is this afternoon and that I must be back for it or face Certain Death.

Have depart in search of wedding gift before I drown in a sea of guilt. Thesis is static - as is my word count. Can’t get anything done. Merely have a desire to meet up with Claire and drink buckets of gin. We are the new virgin slaves of Bombay Sapphire.