Rain, Pain & Vain

Rain: The wettest April on record! That is what I expect the news to read in a couple of weeks if this rain doesn't desist sometime soon. A slow steady drenching of the everything in Brisbane, including the insides of our now soggy heads. I've taken the Honda for a spin, but the water immediately found its way into the motor, so it's resting again until fairer weather strikes. The Honda is of course my 1981 Civic - it has been on it's last legs for around a decade, but it just keeps on going. A little bit of attention a few weeks ago revealed some things that I am trying to ignore - until I go straight through some bend in the road or am forced to travel only in second gear, but these are the joys of the Honda, for those who know it.

Pain: Since starting work again and getting into the gym routine once more I've been pushing it a bit hard I think. Some parts of the body can't keep up with other parts that gain strength more quickly. This has lead to some tendonitis and nerve pinching in some joints. A bit of rest this weekend and taking it a bit lighter over the next few weeks should help with the recovery.

Vain: Who can honestly say they've never felt the pressure to 'keep up' with those around them. As friends accumulate property and then the necessary crap to fill the space, I find myself looking at furniture and furnishings, imagining them placed elegantly in the house we've just bought. Note: we haven't just bought a house, but they are practically giving them away at the moment (low rates, first home-buyers grant, blah blah....), so we're on the lookout for a box to fill with rubbish that is supposed to be aesthetically pleasing to us and somehow make us more relaxed and happier with where we are at in our lives. I can understand investing in a comfortable bed or sofa - something that cradles our bodies. But to spend time picking out something to put on a shelf that has no purpose other than to hold the unnecessary item that we've just purchased, totally bewilders me, not least of all because I feel the same urges lurking within me to buy this useless shite. What do we do? Fight these urges to have a stylish statue of an unknown Grecian sitting on our mantelpiece equivalent? Or wallow in the imaginary world that we are eclectic, sophisticated beings with an eye for colour, space and texture? I don't know. I guess much of it depends on how much that Heather and I can convince ourselves we can do without.