Who would of thought I would be wearing even a shirt at this time of year. December 21st, a couple of weeks into the Queensland summer and it's cold outside. The moon in the night sky is shining bright, stars a-lit and the air is soft, light, and cool. If I had just woken up from a fair couple of months slumber, I would probably have thought I'd slept a few months more.
The change in the weather is actually something I would of looked forward to much more if I had knew it were coming and that I didn't have work to attend. Either things were unpreventable but I guess with summer being so unpredictable, it could of just rained another day and that would be it. But I guess with even the few hours I've had to really experience it, it's made me feel slightly tingly inside; good tingly that is.
Work happenings today were pretty unpredictable as well. Monday nights are usually clean up and prep nights where I would be cleaning stoves and changing foils and then preping for the week of cooking. But as uncertain as the food industry and it's consumers are these days, we were pretty constant throughout the night. Even after the total blackout we had which left only the gas burners a light, people were still wanting to come in for a feed. I'm not quite sure how dinner by a candle-light makes you feel but cooking by candle-light made me feel fairly content for some odd reason. Without the fridges buzzing, and the fans producing the noise fans make, it was just me, my gas and the clanking of the pans.
The sounds heard in the kitchen are often clouded by the noises of the circuits. Very rarely do you get to hear the jets of the blue flamed stoves nor the sound onions make when they hit the pan. Even the droplets of oil are heard, the minute sounds they make are quite magnificent. Cooking in the dark made me feel like myself. It felt like I was on a stage but no-one was watching, it was just me in an empty room, doing what I was doing. It was kind of strange but it was a good feeling.
The lights turned on about a half an hour later and all returned to normal. Even Tien missed the quietness of the silences so I guess it's not just me who's a little mental. I spent time at the gym in a much similar fashion, I've actually been in the same sort of state for the past couple of weeks now to be honest. Once my music pumps I feel like I'm alone, that I've only got myself to impress. People who walk past me or look at me, or even brush against me don't get a second look, or a first in that fact. By 12 o'clock I'm usually in the gym by myself anyway, and I get to enjoy the ambient sounds of silence, and the freedom I have having the whole gym to myself.
I had a couple of flicks at my favourite spot down on the river. With much of fresh getting into the system, I wasn't too optimistic but with the moon so bright and the sky so clear, it was just the perfect opportunity to get some fresh air and admire the surroundings. I decided to take the inside road home today and what a trip it was. Windows down and music pumping, I admired the hundreds of lights above me when I drove under the Christmas decorations in Southbank. It reminded me of those scenes in Canadian movies where people were seen running through streets littered with maple leaves. It reminded me of the scene specifically from Big fish when the main character joins the circus, funky Christmas lights used to light the grounds.
I drove by Jetts in Annerley and scouted for more dedicated people than myself. I found no-one.
I think I've become much more independent these days, a much longed shift from being more of less lonely. I enjoy this feeling.
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