Naturally, when I heard it was going to be 24C yesterday, I headed to the beach.
I mean – it was May 22 and swimming weather – no brainer!
Admittedly, the warm weather around the globe is a little scary: a city in northern India shattered the national heat record last week, registering a searing 51C – the highest since records began – amid a nationwide heatwave.
Meanwhile, Sydney is on its way to recording one of its hottest autumns ever.
But there’s not much I can do – other than try to reduce my personal carbon emissions – so I might as well make the most of it.
I don’t know why, but those cold waves splashing over me make me giggle like that woman in the Chewbacca mask.
OK … maybe not quite that much. But the laughter did bubble up uncontrollably.
I got a little suspicious when DD wrapped his arms around me as I giggled. I was sure he was going to throw me under a wave or something.
He assured me he wasn’t going to throw me under a wave or something. He was just giving me a cuddle.
When he did it again a few minutes later, I asked again if he was SURE he wasn’t going to trick me.
He thought my suspicion pointed to a few trust issues.
Well, yeah. And they extend waaaaaaay back before my marriage break up.
I’ve always been a little suss about people’s motives. Call me paranoid … but I’ve never forgotten the time my co-workers asked me out to lunch for the very first time – I was so touched – but it was so they could be sure I was back in the office to be surprised by a Santa stripper gram (the stripper gram company wanted free publicity).
That hurt … and was humiliating.
I was an incredibly shy, uncertain teen at the time, terrified to be working on a newspaper and totally convinced I didn’t fit in.
I got bolder and braver over the years – it was essential if I wanted to survive in the big, bad world of journalism.
The industry is filled with lovely, fascinating people … but also lots of rat-cunning types wanting something – to promote their agenda, to get publicity for their product, to score work, to discover information, to claw to the top at any cost.
Maybe that’s what all industries are like, but all I’ve been is a journo since I was 17.
I remember an old colleague ringing when I was editor of Woman’s Day. We shot the breeze for a few minutes before she hit me up for freelance work. When I told her we had some permanent jobs going I could hear her recoil on the phone in disgust.
“Oh no!” She gasped. “I wouldn’t want a job THERE!!!!”
For some odd reason I decided not to give her any work.
You start question the motives of everyone. Well, I did.
A lovely couple invited my ex and I over to lunch one day and I spent far too much time wondering WHY.
Why on earth would they want us as their lunch companions? Did they need a favour or something?
It turned out there was no hidden agenda, they just liked us.
I’m less suspicious of people’s motives these days, I assure myself that it’s perfectly possible I’m a nice, fun person who doesn’t need to be “useful” for someone to hang out with me.
And, of course, DD didn’t want to throw me under the waves. He’s teaching me to duck under them (I’ve done it twice!), but if I’m not feeling brave enough, he doesn’t push me.
It was a glorious afternoon: we splashed in the surf together, then I took photographs while DD did a little backstroke in the ocean baths. We went home for warm showers and a glass of red on his back deck, then saw the most amazing full, yellow moon rising. So we took our cameras back to the headland to try and capture its glory.
And that was my lovely Sunday – how was yours?
Song of the day: The eldest’s school jazz band performing “Feeling Good” on Saturday – they were bloody fantastic!