aussies world champions

In the paper, there was an article about expats living in Dubai. It said

all expats complain occasionally about their host countries, but according to Irish journalist Aoibhlinn Hester "of all the English-speaking expatriate population, the Aussies moan the most."

Albert, who lives in Australia, tells me it's true. Oddly enough, one of the things that Aussies like to complain most about is "whingeing Poms."

Albert has still not been bumped off, no thanks to his employers.

As for me, I had a whopper of a day at work yesterday. For once the voice, which tends to pack up for ancient surgical reasons, was working brilliantly, and after the umpteenth tea and about ten squares of chocolate, I was hopped up to the eyeballs and hamming it up. I only had to open my mouth and the females in the class giggled, so I played up to that. The Aussie guys in the class were less entertained.

This morning after the dog walk and sweat, I was hacking away the undergrowth down the side of the house, when I came across some sort of nest. It belongs to a rodent judging by the smell. In the previous post, the blissheid visionary foresaw this when he said that my life was getting like the trenches.

I chatted to Lee Ann, who is doing it pretty tough right now, as you may know. I did the typical male thing of trying to suggest solutions rather than just listening. But I'm hopeful things will pick up in the Northern spring, when people get more sunlight (or in Scotland, just more daylight) and the body chemistry cheers up. Of course that's precisely when we spiral into seasonal affective disorder to balance things up. But the bliss partner has suggested we fly to Darwin in Australia in mid-winter. That could help, and we might even meet up with Albert.