Spider In The Towel (Part 1)

Debating A Sick Day

You might, by the time I am writing this entry, be wondering what the heck is wrong in what is usually the normal cycle of my life. No, I haven’t rented a laptop computer or started writing on the work computers like I used to do at Martinson Engineering but I have taken the day off. These glands of mine couldn’t take the punishment that were delivered to them last night as my nose was blocked and I kept repeatedly coughing around 2:00 a.m.

Being in a light trance-like sleep until 1:00 a.m. I had to wake up to blow my nose in the bathroom, further interrupting my chance of sleep. For the next couple of hours my getting to sleep didn’t better itself and as 5:30 a.m. arrived I woke myself up. The throat pain felt like it had almost subsided and my blocked nose also looked on the decline but having had a touch of proper sleep, my question now was should I head to work and wind the alarm forward half an hour or just sleep in and let myself heal at home for one day.

Yearning for a perfect attendance record at work for the first three months at least, I remembered how Lyssa told me she’d only taken one week off from work in holidays and still, they didn’t treat her any different than if she had taken four weeks off.

When 6:00 a.m. arrived this morning, contemplation was at a peak. Weighing the good points about heading to work against the bad I made my decision from such a contrastive debate. In one hand, it was a Monday, there wasn’t much sleep to my name, I was sick as a dog, I had no plans for lunch and I had to face up to all the work for my day. In addition, I enjoyed the idea of finally taking a day off so I could try on some contact lenses and shop around for glasses.

On the other hand, I didn’t want to get behind on work, Lyssa was going to meet me on the train, Najla and I had that chat with David and I had people like Linh and Jonas to chat to. Nevertheless, as you can obviously see, after five minutes of resting my head after the alarm rang where I was going to head to work, I finally made up my mind to stay in bed. Therefore, setting the alarm for 9:00 a.m. I went back to sleep and enjoyed the extra hours of sleep I normally don’t get.

Telling Jana

Mum came into my room at 7:00 a.m. to see if I had overslept but as I told her I was staying home she made her way upstairs. When 9:00 a.m. arrived I was procrastinating whilst ringing up Jana at work, trying to work out the best way to tell her I was sick. There were no lies in my story but I was just anxious, thinking that Jana probably wouldn’t give me the benefit of the doubt and in her mind, she would think I was just taking a day off, feigning my being sick.

The conversation with Jana was alright though as I told her who I was and as she asked how I was doing I replied “We’ll I’m pretty sick actually”. Showing some sympathy for me she wished me better and asked that if I was going to take another day off, to call Jana for the next day. Laying myself back to sleep with all the obligations over I turned the heater on myself for ten minutes, just relaxing in my waterbed.

When 10:00 a.m. arrived I woke myself up fully and headed to the bathroom so I could blow my nose that was starting to run. It was around this time when I started thinking of my plans for the day when I realized, renewed weekly train tickets were sparse in my pocket. This came as a shock to me in which the inevitable finally happened, I forgot to buy one on the weekend.

Wondering what would have happened if I ended up heading to work in the morning, I figured that I would have had to buy a full price weekly ticket or buy a daily ticket worth almost $10 and then that night I would head to Macarthur Square to buy a weekly, waste of money. Therefore, I am lucky in some way that I did decide to take today off due to my debilitating flu. Not only did I get to purchase my weekly ticket but I also got to save money on the cost of buying food and bus fare for work.

A Spider In The Towel

Whilst having a soothing shower around 10:00 a.m. I received one of the biggest shocks of the day. Stepping out of the shower, I wiped myself down with my hands first as I always do, straining my hair and making sure that I don’t drip excessively. Wiping my fingers and palms on the edge of the towel before picking it up, I figured that I didn’t want to use the wet patch I had just created so I was careful to pick up the towel on either side.

Opening up the towel I was much more conscious of my looking at the towel than my usual grabbing of the towel and wiping myself down thoroughly. It was this caution taken that finally led me to discover the big surprise waiting just about where I was going to plant my face in the towel. Undistinguishable at first, it was lucky that the towel was moving slowly to my face because there concealed in the ribbing material was a spider.

However, this wasn’t some ordinary little spider and what made me wary enough to move the towel as far away from my face was the fact that it had a huge black back end. The spider wouldn’t have been any bigger than an ant’s front body but just imagine the back of that body being swelled up ten times its size.

Yep, I thought it was a red-back spider with its distinguished large rear end but the only difference was the back was fully black, no red in it. As I tried to shake it into the toilet successfully I kept thinking to myself “What would have happened if I placed my face in its path and was bitten”, knowing from documentary movies that red-back spider bites are life threatening.

Dad Drops Me At Macarthur Square

From my ordeal in the bathroom, I washed myself down suspiciously and heading back into my room I dressed myself, ready to catch a bus to Campbelltown Station. Making my way upstairs to grab the Medicare Card from mum just incase I would need it for the optometrist, she was almost waiting for my arrival, thinking that I would need the card to see the doctor. While up there mum noted that dad was heading down to Campbelltown himself for some errands so obviously I thought to get myself a lift.

Listening to some music for a couple of minutes while dad finished shaving he started up the car as I closed the garage door and jumped in the car. There was mum, standing near the front door, looking at us adoringly while dad pulled out of the driveway. Having a small change of mind, when dad decided to head up St. Johns Road and to the highway I asked if he could drop me off at Macarthur Square. Having no problem with that, I figured that Macarthur Square would have a much better chance of having an open machine than Campbelltown and deciding not to take any chances, we headed there.

Jumping out at the top end of the car park just up from the buses I started to sneeze again as my nose was still sensitive. In addition, I spat two times upon being dropped off and as I never spit, this was only to regulate the nasty taste within my mouth at the time. Heading past Greater Union and across the street with my Adidas Pants, black bonds shirt and my Tommy Hat, I was dressed to suit my surroundings.

Glancing up at the skateboarders using the bridge walkway as a skating ramp I walked up the stairs and across the bridge, optimistic that I would be able to purchase a weekly ticket. With a train just pulling up and dropping off passengers from Campbelltown and beyond, I looked at a couple of girls walking past, my confidence above my old self of being quiescent but below my standards of Friday night because I had this nasty cold.

Therefore, I only glanced at their lovely bodies whilst walking past and felt their favorable vibe when finding that the ticket machine was open. Funnily enough, someone had scribbled over some of stop information for the buttons and the City button being one of them, I had to keep pressing buttons, guessing which one was for the City. Buying my ticket I then decided to make due a quick trip through the Square before heading back to Campbelltown Station for where I would have business with the optometrist

Running Into Kofi

Making my way up the ramp towards the outskirts of Macarthur Square I noticed a tall black figure which after a couple more steps looked familiar. Eyeing him as he did me I put up my finger and pointed at him in recognition. The tall and skinny figure turned out to be Kofi and next to him was some guy I haven’t seen before with a white hat that is sort of hard to explain.

Giving it a go, it was like a bucket hat crossed with a chef’s hat in which it sat over the eyes and extended partially past the head, looking good at the same time. Shaking hands with Kofi and then introducing myself to the other guy I started chatting with him in my croaky voice. Advising Kofi that I was heading down to Campbelltown later to buy contact lenses he told me I should shop around at Macarthur Square first.

Planning to do that, Kofi also told me a story about how he had to replace his contacts after one year and the reason he told me was because his pupils and eyes changed shape. As we talked for a couple of minutes I fared him well and then made the rest of my trek up to the sliding entrance doors of Macarthur Square. What brought disdain to my blinded eyes from the tiring sun was how I noticed that one Lebanese guy that just by looking at his face, I hate.

Not sure on what his name is, I recall that Naqi used to also hate him in which his ratty face that makes you think he’s a smart-ass and a trouble maker tells no lies. In addition, I think he’s related to Penelope’s family somehow as I saw him at their house once and also at Chevy’s on Friday night. Walking past him and a couple of other guys who were seated around the hedge seats, I just kept my eyes forward, glancing at him once or twice. You couldn’t separate the tension with a piece of string and although it wasn’t direct, my unwavering eyes told the story of disgust and animus.