Today I reached my first slightly large crisis; my washing. A whole weeks worth of it. It's not that I hadn't thought about the washing, it's just that there is the small problem of my entrance to the laundry being nailed shut. I'm supposed to enter through my Landlord's house until they get the door fixed, but they're never home when I am lately. I tried numerous coin operated laundries today, but city parking and unfriendly laundry ladies yelling "we're full!" sort of put me off. After a car just ahead of me was involved in a crash trying to park, I literally fled home. As the afternoon progressed and I started to have nightmares of drowning in my own dirty clothes as they piled up, I came to a horrible realisation. I was going to have to take it to my pseudo-grandparents house when I went over for dinner. I am the worst person. Dinner was lovely, and I got so see lots of pictures of Ma and Pa when they were younger, but the whole time, my guilt was spinning around in their washing machine. This load of guilt is now spread across my apartment floor with the fan on high, as my clothes line is also locked in my landlords house at the moment. Classy.
On the bright side, when I did my grocery shopping, a nice man I walked past smiled and said hello. The first of the hundreds of people I have seen since I arrived here. I then fully conquered the rooftop parking, and also made the very 'grown up' decision to extend my shopping to not only Woolworths, but also the butcher, deli and florist next door. This went really well until my last stop at the butcher, where I had to explain over and over to the confused young guy behind the counter that I wanted 2 sausages, not 2 kilos of Sausages. He just kept saying "2 piece? 2 piece?!" Yes butcher man, I am the crazy single student who comes in and buys just 2 of your Italian continental sausages for $1.55. Don't judge me.
I finally learned to say the name of my suburb properly; a-luh-wuh. To all my friends in Allora, just know that next time I see you, no, I have not developed a lisp, and I am talking about where I live, not where you live.
My night ended with a drive home through a neighbouring suburb, which was nice, until I saw a shop with dead Ducks hanging in the windows. I have now lost faith in that "nice" suburb.
Xx, Little Duck (*gulp*)
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