Breathing in the colors, Blue was resting up for today, while it was kicking back, they were glass-blowing these waves

These last two days, yesterday especially, have been like a last glorious sliver of summer, before we descend into wintry autumn in earnest. It's great to watch people react. Girls gleefully pull skirts out of wardrobes for one last outing, guys wear their shorts like they're going out of fashion, so to speak. Areas of grass are suddenky covered with canoodling couples, looking terribly sincere, and slightly giggly, as they milk the sunshine for all its worth. I keep catching myself automatically looking forward to Christmas without thinking.

Also, the title quote is from the song "Out the Back" by the inimitable Whitlams. The rest of the quote, which wouldn't fit, is "It's how the gum trees are stamped into the sky, I could be eight years old with these colours in my eyes".

In other news, work is dull. Just had a patient here whose mother was so domineering ('no, dear, you can't have an appointment before 5, I work. You'll just have to leave Tafe for an hour or so") that I wanted to thump her. Aaargh. Outrageous of parents to insist on accompanying 19 year old daughters to gynaecologist appointment. What if vitally medical information (eg, "Are you sexually active?") had to be witheld as a result of it? Could be dangerous. This irritates me. At least let the girl get a word in flipping edgewise. >(

Yesterday, I was talking to the girl whose name I was complaining about being unable to remember a few posts ago, but which I figured out. She had a presentation next, about which she was nervous, and for which she had put on makeup. But she had an unblended smudge right between her eyes, so I told her, but she couldn't fix it, so I did.

Similarly, and I have a point eventually, I was talking to TheOtherSam (as opposed to AfroSam) about the Tea Room in the QVB, and how he really should go one day and so on...

At the end of that conversation it occurred to me: both these conversations could have been read as me flirting outrageously, (although not in text, apparently, only if you were there)which I wasn't. The more I thought about this, the more it seemed to be the case that all my interactions could probably be read 9inaccurately, obviously)as me flirting with people. Hmmm... Bizarre. Is it so? Am I reading too much into stuff? Does everyone interract in this way, or do I have a diminished sense of other people's personal spaces? Do people constantly think I'm hitting on them when in fact they really do have leaves in their hair and look like an idiot?

All slightly interesting questions, none of which I will gove any more thought to, lest I start watching the way I behave. Whenever I do that, I always seem to become wierdly awkward. Like when you try to treat someone "just like you treat everyone else", (especially after you break up with someone) which is, of course, completely impossible, because you treat everyone slightly differently.

Hmm...

Why is it, since I am thinking along these lines, that when I've been at work all evening, toward the end of the shift, it seems like such a huge effort to look up at people and make eye contact? This never seems to be the case at other times, but by the end of work, it seems literally to be a huge physical effort to maintain eye contact. That really is odd.

I wonder what Sam wants for his birthday? I always ask for HMV vouchers, if people don't know what to get me. I could spend a thousand dollars on CDs and DVDs with no trouble at all. Will either have to have genius idea, or be depressingly generic. Some people, I know, really resent gift vouchers as gifts. This, I think, is bizarre. Much better than getting someone a Dixie Chicks CD and hoping that they'll like it. (And my example is strictly hypothetical, of course, not me making fun of Catie at all. No indeed.)