Anthony Malloy

I get to pick up my car on Thursday. Now I’m faced with an agonising decision.

What CD should have the honour of being the first played?

Which CD Should Have The Honour Of Being The First Played In Tony’s New Car
	New Order – Technique
	Pet Shop Boys – Behaviour
	The The – 45 RPM
	Paul Kelly – Songs From The South
	Billy Bragg – Workers Playtime
	The Tragically Hip – Phantom Power
Free polls from Pollhost.com

It’s mine.

The car is mine.

The car yard just called – purchase order has been processed and paper work done.

It’s mine.

I will get to pick it up early/mid next week.

I can’t believe it’s mine. (There must be a mistake.)

It’s mine!

Regardless if it’s the ‘making’ or ‘smelling’ gene related to asparagus, I’ve got it.

Okay, here’s why my head was spinning last night.

It looks like I may be getting a new car. A brand new car. Not a second hand one. And it will be red. And cool. And it has a CD player. And cup holders. And central locking.

I think I’ve jumped all the hurdles and it will hopefully soon be mine.

I’m not uncrossing my fingers until I get the keys though. I’ve only ever had one car and never really thought I’d be able to afford a non-second hand vehicle but the stars have aligned, pay has been raised, budgets analysed and it looks like I can.

Oh yeah – it’s a Mitsubishi Lancer ES, 2.0 lt Automatic Sedan. In Rose Red.

Woh.

I’ve just sent a fax to buy something.

I think I’ve spent a lot of money and tied myself to work for the next 4 years.

Head is spinning, and it’s not the cold.

More later.

I’m sick.

A doctor says so, and they are never wrong. He even poked two different things in my ears and made me go ‘aaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh’.

Not sure why he bothered as I coughed all over him when I sat down.

Any way.

I’m officially sick. Sympathy gratefully accepted although probably most unwarranted.

I’m rambling.

’cause I’m sick.

Rae’s sick to, but she doesn’t have a piece of paper from the doctor to make it legit.

Last night’s ‘game’ had one highlight – Rae’s dash from the car park back into Docklands Telstra Colonial Dome to retrieve the Tiger thermos that we forgot to collect as we left in disgust. With speed and dedication like that she should have been on the field.

Tigers, thanks for nothing. Rae, thanks for the flask.

After spending a week camping on the edge of a flower bed my phone came home today. After I spent $35 on a new SIM card and had the hand set barred, but at least it’s home, dry and working.

Thanks hon for finding it.

Don’t blog just to tell everyone you are sick and not blogging. Not even if you are really really icky. And coughing. And hacking. And your throat hurts. And you are tired. And can’t breathe properly. And just want to be home in bed under the doona. Sort of like I am today.

First I lose my phone.

Now not a single one of my email accounts is working.

What’s happening? Is it John Howard still trying to drag me back in time, to the dim dark ages pre 1996? Have I offended the gods of the net?

This lack of contactability (yes, it is a word; because I say it is) is giving me the shakes.