mornings

The weekend mornings were more like wide open dawns, with us waking at 4.30 so I could take B to work in East Freo and then drive back through the blinking pitch black, with the cranes behind me and the Florentine tower of UWA ahead. We live in a beautiful place.

I am tired almost beyond measure- I have no nails to speak of, my face looks like the surface of the moon and I have a stomach ache that feels like someone is chewing my guts from the inside. But I know this is all temporary. Soon, I won't need to work three jobs (yep, you read right: three, because this weekend I too am going to work as a kitchen hand at an old people's home in Cottesloe) and I will have time and energy to do a few Anna things. Maybe even save up for an easel and same paints...

This morning was also particularly gorgeous. In fact, as I just wrote that word, 'gorgeous', I suddenly thought that the colours of the sky this morning would have looked resplendent as shirt colours for Jay Gatsby. "I'm sad because I've never seen such beautiful shirts before" - how I hated Daisy.
But I digress... this morning I woke a few minutes before six, made my coffee and sat in the study, with the sunrise behind me, my Paul keating mug and a book about Hungarian intellectuals in Germany. It was a peaceful, blissful time.

The new apartment is slowly taking shape. It lacks any real furniture, other than that which we ahve received from Zoli, or scrounged from the side of the road, but boy do I love my washing machine and my fridge. I am inching towards grown-upness.

I had a letter from Emily yesterday- the first one at the new address - and she, from a distance, has appointed herself my life long cheerleader. And again, like on most days, I am flushed with gratitude for the amazing life I have.
(Luckiest girl in the world- think I've mentioned that before).

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