30 My beach towel is number 5
When you don’t have sheets, here’s what you do. You get a beach towel and if you’re on a couch you get pillows or cushions and you crush them down, like this and then you get your towel and you wrap it over the edges. Voila. You got yourself a bed. And you sleep in your t’shirt, your bikini cos then, when you wake up, you’re ready. Sleep with your dog close up, cos he’s your best friend and protector and if he needs to do wee in the night you’ll get him before he pisses on the leg of the couch or worse still, your hand or, he begins to scratch at the door. That way you don’t piss off your friends. I’m a reader. See. Here’s what I’m reading. I found it in the laundry at the van park. There’s a kind of book exchange going on there. It’s a Thriller. I don’t know if it’s good, but it helps me to sleep.
So when you wake up, you’ll look like you’ve got yourself half a beard, from the towel, see look at this. But it’s only one side and I like it. And check out outside – cool - you know you gotta hit the path, kinda down beside the road, it head out to the back beach, it only goes as far as the camp site. But that’s sweet cos I can hitch from there.
For breakfast you to eat Weetbix. Split her in half with honey. How easy is that. You’re done.
I tell my friends to count your possessions. If you own more than 50 things, life’s complex. I’ve got 58 in total. The dog doesn’t count. You can’t own a living thing. I’ve got 58 that means I gotta get rid of 8. Right here – a skateboard, bathers, my necklace, my towel, a board, a hat, an anklet. 7 things. Everything else I can forget about. Everything else I’ll bot.
Down on the path, people, dogs, a couple of little prams, olds walking slow and worried about me cutting their legs. Pad and now you’re gliding bush on one side, beach on the other. My dog with me, of course. I love this path, I love the lines – hear the noise they make – under my deck. And you get a rhythm going. Going. Going. Going. Nice. Here’s your ride.