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dream.
    Kathy continues to lead the Field, and I am considering whether to bump sociology seminar Lauren from the list, as I’ve seen her walking around campus holding hands with a guy. Georgia from the deli is still a possibility, and probably up for it, and I may end up sleeping with her just to get Ed off my back. If he’s so keen for Georgia to be put on her arse, why doesn’t he do it himself?
    “Time to break the drought, Chris,” he said tonight. “Do you good.”
    “I’m working up to asking Kathy out,” I protested.
    He gave me the one-eyebrow raise—an advanced practitioner, like Amelia.
    Yeah. The chances of Kathy ever having sex with me are slim to none. Ed reckons he’s going to make sure Georgia comes out with us after work tomorrow night.
    Harvey out.

Later
    When my sister and I were little, Mum would read us a book called Amelia Bedelia . The title character was a housemaid who kept getting herself into “scrapes” because she was a bit of a literal thinker. She’d get really upset when she got into trouble and would run away. Actually, no, I think her employer got really angry at her and sent her away. Eventually and after much adventuroussoul-searching she would come home. Her employer would greet her warmly, his earlier wrath forgotten, and ask her to make him some soup.

October 7
    Last night I drank too much and bedded She’s-big-she’s-blond-she-works-in-the-deli Georgia at her place. Conversation was slim pickings afterward. I asked her if she liked Tom Waits. She said, “Tom who?” Enough said.

October 12
    The timetable for exams and final essays is out. Six weeks until I’m all finished. It’s going to take a superhuman effort to get all my work in on time and keep the credit average I need to graduate with honors in my new second major next year. Interesting. I’m going to work as many shifts at Coles as possible over Christmas break in the hopes of saving enough money to cut back to twelve hours a week next year. Maybe then I could put a little more time into actual study. Doing honors sociology and all, it would be nice to give that priority.
    So, another year of school and then what? Too scary a topic. New paragraph, please.
    Mick, Rohan and Suze will be waiting for me at the uni bar. It’s almost dark out here on the lawn. I’d better go soon. I’m getting along quite well with a couple of the newer youngsters at work, both of whose knowledge of fruit and vegetable has blossomed under my firm but fair tutelage.
    Donna is a very old soul indeed. She’s fifteen going onthirty-five and has a pretty fucked-up home life. Always keen for a drink after work is young Donna. She is Bianca’s new girl pet; they’re becoming thick as thieves, taking smoke breaks out the back together and all the rest.
    The other one is Amelia. When my sister and I were little, sometimes I would piss her off so much she’d take a few steps back and then rush at me, fists raised. I would stick my hand out and plant my palm on her forehead, stopping her in her tracks. Her arms would flail about, getting her nowhere. She’d keep flailing until Mum heard the ruckus, broke it up and sent me to my room. For some reason I think of that sometimes when I’m talking to Amelia. She wears her entire personality on her sleeve. Upon (uncharacteristic) reflection, maybe I see some of myself in her. Zoe and I seem to have changed roles as we’ve grown older—these days it’s me that tends to flail around while she stands composed.
    Right. Beer o’clock.

October 22
    The new youngster, Amelia, has acquired a bit of a cult following of late. Consisting of, well, me. It’s relaxing to be in her company because there’s no need for guesswork of any kind. I am going to try to push her in Ed’s direction. A girlfriend would sort him out, I reckon, especially one that can read and write, and Amelia can certainly do that.
    This will probably be the last time I write in this notebook until the end of exams. I