9 reasons i might use to convince myself that today wasnt one of the most unpleasant days ever

1. Umbrellas. There is a reason musicals feature scenes with umbrellas. Although they weren’t being twirled and flipped and sprung out to the front in overzealous unison, the sight of so many umbrellas bobbing up and down Upper Edward made me feel that songs and knee-swinging were indeed possible. In fact, later when I was complimented on my own umbrella, I just so happened to reply in song.

2. Free dress day. I wore jeans to work today. And Emma wore short shorts. And Julian wore a soft-looking shirt with the top button undone, and no tie to boot. Legs, necks and toes were freely on display. How could anyone be stressed in such an environment? Not to mention, a fair amount of money would have been raised for the Bushfire Appeal. And that is good.

3. Speaking of which. My house is intact and my family and friends are all safe and essentially well. I am fortunate for this and that makes any day worthy of not being one of the worst days ever. My heart goes out to all affected by the bushfires.

4. Porn. It's on my door.

5. Friday is the day before Saturday. And what do I do on Saturdays? Whatever the hell I want. I say that with vigour because it means a lot to me that tomorrow I will eat breakfast. And lunch and dinner too, probably. But most importantly, breakfast. Because I am going out. Somewhere nice, no matter the price.

6. I just rhymed for the sake of rhyming. That can’t be a bad thing.

7. Ramsay Street. It’s comforting to know that I can come home and my family will expect nothing of me. Do I have to use my brain? No. Do I have to be torn apart with emotion? No. I can sit on my chair and just enjoy the company. Actually, no. I don’t even have to enjoy. I just have to sit.

8. Corrugated iron. I only hope that the rain continues well into the night and that the patter on my roof and the neighbours’ roofs does not cease. I hope, even, that it intensifies. That the patter turns to hammer. That I have to remove the doona, kneel on the bed and peer out the window to confirm whether it's stones or rain or drumming maniacs coming to get me.

9. Drumming maniacs. Coming to get me. To take me away.