It's my Life

Strange things continue to happen in The Highrise. A nice little display of shells turned into a very large display after Phyllis and Kosov walked along a beach with their phone torches alight. Perhaps their friend needed more sex advice, although it sounded like she was doing quite ok on her own to me with a virile young man.

"Phyllis, what if the printer runs out of paper. I can't insert new paper with the shells there."

But wait, there are more.

They were scooped up and put into a bowl, and just as well, the next day the printer ran out of paper when I had to print out a document that some poor old age pensioner widowers need to do. Doesn't poor old age pensioner sound so much more needy than my former guise as a poor old age self funded retiree. 

Kosov has been here for since last Friday but he has gone home tonight. That's fine. He was given one day's unpaid work at a cafe as a trial part time worker. He worked one shift and he was then told he was casual. He was given cash in hand and then not called back.

It is hard for foreign students. However Kosov has what sounds like a decent proper part time job now, in Peel Street, Collingwood, and if I have any gay Melbourne readers, you will no doubt know Peel Street.

There was something fermenting in the dish under the heating. I think it was for a lemon pasta sauce. Three days later, for lunch I had a small bowl of left over creamy and spicy pasta. It was ok.

I am a tidy person and so was Ray. I dislike untidiness. Phyllis has learnt that I like the kitchen tidy. "Phyllis! There is a splodge of what looks like fermenting lemon pasta sauce on the dining table". "Phyllis, I don't want that supermarket bag left all day against my newly painted smart wall next to my art deco auto trolley, once owned by the mother of our Brother Friends". 

Now, I just have to train Kosov to automatically recognise that the recycling bin is full and needs to be taken down to the basement, and for him to push his chair back in under the dining table. 

These young people! How they must adjust to old man widower ways.

I spent over an hour on the phone to our electric company today. Although the bill payment automatically comes out of my account, the account is in Ray's name. Clearly this is the only time this has happened in the world. I only did so because I wanted the pensioner concession. 

I managed to apply my concession to my local council for reduced rates almost online. I had to write onto a printed out form, scan it along with a scan of my concession card, and email it to the council. At least my home was in both names.

Not so for the car, that I paid for. The car ownership needs to be changed from Ray's name to mine. 

Lordy, then there is insurance to sort out. I am so busy being a retired person and I have all this extra loaded on to me.