So apparently, Melbourne is currently being ravaged by the dreaded Flu. It’s not fatal, and mostly it just causes a runny nose the likes of which you’ve never seen before along with a general feeling of doom and gloom, but still…I’m staying indoors. Nope, no thank you, none of that foolishness. I have work to do, cats to feed, laundry to complete.
And I’m all the way out here on the Mornington Peninsula as well; hate to think about what it’s like travelling into the centre of Melbourne every day on the train, knowing anyone could be carrying the dreaded lurgy. I’m enough of a hypochondriac as it is, thank you. I already get checkups every season, jabs when I don’t need them and I’ve even booked myself in for a few sessions with a psychologist. In the Mornington Peninsula, a place of wonder and peace and goodness, people take their mental health seriously. Actually, everyone does that, but especially here. But beware! Danger lurks everywhere!
I feel fine, but who really knows? I had a bad dream the other day that I had to give a presentation on the three forms of heat transference, and I know nothing about science. I showed up in front of an audience of 5000 people, all waiting to hear how heat transfers, only to realise that I was wearing banana-yellow business attire, and all my notes had been chewed by a sloth.
That’s got to mean something. Pretty sure I’m repressing memories from my childhood, and the sloth represents my inability to move on from that 39 I received in my theatre studies VCS class. Seeing a psychiatrist really would just put my mind at ease about this stuff, along with maybe some medication. Maybe. If I need it. Up to them. I’m just glad they have psychiatrists and psychologists in Mornington at all. People here are so relaxed, you’d think you’d have to go into Melbourne, stress-ville itself. No thank you…I don’t need the flu.