So London is getting snow right now, and we’re here just making do with slightly cool breezes. Boring. Not that I’m surprised, because all the weather around here is unpleasant or boring, or totally unpredictable. There’s no happy medium of it just being pleasant, not for long.
Really, I think from my one year living here, the best way to survive Melbourne is just to buy a really nice home with all the amenities. Double-glazing to keep out the heat, air conditioning to keep you cool inside, efficient heating services to make you feel warm and toasty in the winter, and a decent system that can change on a whim. Maybe also a pool. And a tin roof, because rain on a tin roof is just lovely when you’re trying to sleep.
I don’t know where you’d find THAT combo, however. I know there are property advocates in Melbourne to help you out with all your buying needs, but I’d feel bad handing them a list of things that just don’t go together. “So yeah, I’d like a really large home, but it’s not too expensive to heat, or keep cool. I want it to be modern, spacious and look impressive from the outside, but it also has a tin roof. A large garden, but also one that’s easy to maintain, because often the weather will be such that I really don’t even want to go outside and I don’t want it turning into a jungle. Oh, and it both retains the heat in winter, then releases it in summer.”
Yeah, I’m the quintessential nightmare client. Those ones that the buyers advocates would be very polite to, because they’re professional and very good at dealing with the public, but then they go home and cry themselves to sleep because I’m just impossible. Guess I’ll just have to deal with the heat of summer and the frosts of winter like everyone else. The buyers advocate professionals in Melbourne have enough on their plates dealing with that, without me knocking down my door and asking for a home that doesn’t exist.
That’s it: December the 20th approaches, and that’s when I can finish my Nomad Challenge. It all started when I was dragged along to a conference by my old girlfriend, who was into all kinds of new-age stuff. Guru Lakim was hosting, and the whole thing was about ‘releasing your earthly tethers and letting yourself be carried away on the breeze of change and good vibes’.
I’m sorry to say that I was utterly smitten. I don’t know, maybe I was in a vulnerable position, hating my job and just wanting life to be more exciting, but I fell head over heels for everything he said, and I dcided to transform my life. The girlfriend was the first thing to go, because she refused to eat purely organic. I then gave up my bed, and figured…hey, why not spend a year without a roof? Roofing is a symbol of the man.
So yeah, I’m meeting with conveyancers in Cheltenham tomorrow. I only just managed to stick it this far, and…well, I’m embarrassed to have undertaken the journey, even though it taught me so much. Namely that roofing is NOT symbol of the man, but a thing that handily keeps the rain off you. Conveyancers are NOT part of a conspiracy to keep you anchored to the economy and the government, but instead are just solicitors doing their jobs. What else did Guru Lakim say? Oh yeah…so personal hygiene. It’s really for your own good, as well as th
e good of those around you. I really do think that humans were meant to be clean.
That reminds me, I have that conveyancer appointment tomorrow and I need to find a shower somewhere. Maybe there are some former friends who’ll take pity. This year of living in bushes and ditches…I’ve realised that owning a home is the ultimate in security. I don’t just want a roof; I want a roof that I OWN. And I’d visit every conveyancer in Carlton to Carnegie until I found the perfect home setup. But…hopefully I just need one.
I’ve been struggling recently with how I’m going to set up the exposition of my novel properly. If you’ve ever met me, probably even just once, you’ll know that having this kind of a problem isn’t really too unusual for me. I’m kind of what I like to describe as the ‘struggling artist’ type, and it just so happens that my medium of choice is my words. But I’m nothing if not a perfectionist, and I find that the meticulously craftsmanship involved in creating a story is the most time consuming part of the process. I have to get every detail, every aspect of it, right before I’m happy to move on and put my vision onto the computer screen’s simulation of paper.
My most recent conception centres around a life changing series of events faced by an otherwise ordinary woman. In order to impress the sheer normality of her life, I need to describe the biggest event in at during the beginning of the novel: she is moving from one house to another. However, I’ve felt recently that this really isn’t as unremarkable as it could be, so I’m wondering whether to add another element into the mix. At the moment, I’m thinking that my protagonist could be working with a buyers advocate in Melbourne to move the process along. Nothing screams ‘uneventfully dull’ like an added layer of bureaucracy.
Although there’s nothing wrong with consulting an advocate, of course, I feel that adding that into the exposition of the novel will just add to the overall effect I’m trying to create. Working with a buyers advocacy in Melbourne is a sensible, risk-averse move to take. It should help to establish those qualities in my protagonist while lulling my reader into a false sense of security. If it does that well, it should be worthwhile adding it in, but I need to be sure it works first.