- On the way in to the class, I needed to fill up with petrol. (The car, not me.) First option: a queue. Ok, continue in to Lincoln. Get to Lincoln. All bowsers occupied. People towing boats, filling jerry cans. People from cars standing around talking. Pull in to a car park to wait. Get gazzumped by two other cars, who arrive just as Jerrycan Boat-man gets his shit together and drives away from the two spaces he’s occupying. Curse quietly, and decide that waiting in a park is not the best option, and resolve to instead to drive circuits of the forecourt until a space appears. A space appears; pull in, fill car, manage to avoid getting petrol over my clothes (ah ha!), double check the fuel tank cap is back on and everything is appropriately locked and secure, go in to pay for petrol and present fuel discount docket. It isn’t a discount docket. It’s a receipt from Bunnings. Whimper. Pay and leave.
- Get to Library, am greeted by usual librarian. The usual exchange: Good morning – Hello, good morning – Here’s your key – Thank you. The alarm’s been turned off? – Yes all done. – Thank you. Time to get a coffee! Arrive at room, open door. Set off alarm. Whimper.
- Haul desk into place, so I can set up my projector and start setting up the room. Projector? Check. iPad? Check. iPad connector? Check. Long cable? Check. Extension cord? Check. Power cord? (silence) Power cord? Um … Houston, we have a problem. Whimper …
Joanna Preston: Tasmanaut Poet
A Dark Feathered Art 