Hungover, Unemployed and Searching for the Rainbow
I awoke at 7.15a.m. exactly, not coincidentally as the Connex service to London Victoria rattled and smashed its way to grinding halt at platform two of West Norwood Station. I fumbled around with eyes half shut and managed to locate the pint of water I had ingeniously placed within reaching distance the night before. Next to the glass was a slip of paper with two Beroccas placed neatly on top. I lobbed them into the glass and watched them spin and tumble turning the water a putrid earthy red. Next to where the glass had been was a pen and paper with the words 'All the colors of the rainbow - wouldn't it be nice?' scribbled in black ink. Scribbled in my handwriting. Strange, perplexing even, and no doubt worthy of thought at some time during the night. Recently, following a suggestion from my mother, I began jotting down the first thing that entered my mind when I woke during the night. I can't exactly recall the significance or even if there was one, but ever since doing it, I've spent numerous morning hours wandering around in a state of thought overload. It's as if I live a completely separate life when I'm asleep. Last week there was the baffling 'Where do wombats fit into the food chain?' and the week before I awoke to the enigmatic yet thought provoking 'Buddhism versus Basketball - discuss'.
The house was silent and Natalie had already upped and left. I dragged myself off the hairy mattress still puzzled by my midnight scrawl but eager for caffeine and toast. I burped a Berocca burp and slid a couple of slices of bread under the grill.
The day outside was a nothing day. Early August and I should be bathing in the moderate clime of a European summer. I felt a little ripped off. Summer here is short enough but August, I had been promised, was a wonderful month.
As the kettle reached a boiling crescendo I was joined in the kitchen by Jacqui - our resident Aerobics Instructor. 'Coffee kiddo?' I wheezed. She could tell I was not well.
'No thanks Doddo. I'm going to make a fruit shake, do you want one?'
'Shake me babe.' I took my coffee back to the hairy mattress and curled up in the fetal position.
Jacqui was another Australian in her early twenties - the place was littered with them. A lovely girl but not the sort of person you need around when you're hungover, unfit and feeling sorry for yourself. The shake was just the healthy beginnings of a run of the mill day, which no doubt involved cycling to and from work, taking aerobics classes and eating foods containing chick-peas, alfalfa and whole grain bread.
Her enthusiasm for life was infectious. Her presence in the room was usually enough to lift everyone's spirits. Today I could of gunned her down in cold blood. Not that she doesn't make a great fruit shake - she does - it's just when I feel shit, I want the whole world too feel shit with me. Energetic, healthy, employed people should all be gathered up, placed on an island somewhere and made to listen to soft rock ballads, until I'm well. Sorry, just my opinion.
During the next hour I luxuriated over my shake, chatted with Jacqui, watched some morning TV and mentally visualised my day. Shower, hit the phone, interviews in the afternoon. Yeah right.
Dave came and went in a flying rush. He has this uncanny ability to leave the house just when a train is arriving at the station. Toast in one hand, putting on a jumper and flying out the door all in one sleek movement. Off to sell African Overland packages to the backpacker masses. God he's worldy. I'm just pathetic. I turn over and think about sleep but am rudely interrupted by The Kid.
'Buenos Dias Senor Dodson.'
'Fuck off.'
'That's just lovely that is.'
'Sorry mate, lots on my mind. All the colors of the rainbow - wouldn't it be nice?' Strangely enough, he knew exactly where I was coming from.
'Sorry mate, no clues.' he replied, paused then added 'Have you talked to Nat about this freaky dream shit.'
'Where would I start?'
'Good point, until you get to know everyone a little better lets just keep this between the two of us.'
The Kid was all suited up. It's kind of strange seeing friends in suits. It's hard to fathom that any friend of mine from University could actually hold down a position of responsibility let alone earn darn good money in the process. The Kid left the room and returned thirty seconds later.
'Mate, we're thinking about taking Jaffa up to Wales for the weekend if you're keen. Check out a bit of scenery, stop the night at a B and B, what d'ya reckon?'
'Sounds good, I'm a bit low on rocks though.'
'No probs, it'll be cheap and I can lend you a bit if you need it.'
'Count me in and close the lounge room door on your way out.'
He did and as he wandered down the hallway toward the front door I could have sworn I heard him say, 'you've never been much of a closer Doddo', before giggling like a girl and slamming the front door behind him. Prick.
