Awakenings

Wednesday the 19th, about 3:30am
The dear little corellas were at it again. From the sounds of it the whole screeching host were parked right outside our bedroom window. There's something about the way they shriek incessantly that puts me in mind of a large group of people talking very loudly and slowly at one another because nobody can hear anything over all the shouting.
"Hello!"
"What?"
"What?"
"Speak up!"
"What'd he say?"
"What?"
"What?"
"What?"
Ad infinitum.
And then skribe said: "I can smell a bushfire."
He was right. Just for one odd moment, we were back in our tent down south, waking up with the first light of day, surrounded by bird cries, and the ever-present scent of old burnt-out bush made moist by the morning dew.
That was the smell alright - damp, burnt bush. It didn't belong in a flat in the metropolitan area, and it was our first real indication just how bad were the fires in the hills. This was the day the city skyline vanished from view, we got a taste of what it would be like to live in a big, smog-filled megacity, the laundry got dandruff, and I learn that flyscreen does not keep out ash.

Friday the 21st, 8-ish
The storyboards have been handed in, which ends my involvement with the Harmony Week project (until the mad Hungarian realises he hasn't confirmed my role post-production), so I wake up free and happy for a change, and am la-la-laing around, taking my time going into the office, leisurely working on Byte Me when my mobile phone suddenly beeps and I discover I have a meeting scheduled in half an hour. Damn, this new phone is useful. It plays MP3s, has replaced the wristwatch, is a digital camera, and an organiser. Good Sony Ericsson Z1010. Very good Sony Ericsson Z1010. Now, if only it doubled as a remote control and could wash dishes, too.

Sunday the 23rd, 7:30
Learnt there is no good television on at this time. Don't know why the hell I'm awake at all, considering skribe and I pulled a 14-hour day yesterday and didn't get home until 10pm. Blame it on 40C forecast, and decide life's not so bad after all when you can wear boardies and bikini-top to work.
So they've called the Elections at long last. I wonder if the Hungarian will get the Harmony Week ad made on time?