There's Nothing Quite As Harmful As The Slow Moving Day.

It's lazy writing Wednesday, or 'La Musique Mercredi', the name I gave Wednesdays when I was in a more enthusiastic mood. I'm still up at my parent's house, recuperating from the track world champs. It's strange, though, being in the place where you grew up. It's like constantly switching between present and past tense in the one sentence. History is present and present is past. For example, I was just sitting in a cafe drinking a surprisingly not horrible coffee when I ran into a girl I 'went out with' in primary school. Not high school, primary school. After we'd said hello and agreed to catch up later she sat back down at her table outside. I wondered just how much of her opinion of me still came from that interaction, when we'd 'dated' for a month or so. At the end of the month she went to Somer's Camp and I went on the school camp to Warnambool. Apparently I'd flirted with some other girl while we were apart and on her return she dumped me. I was pretty bummed out about it, and distinctly remember sitting alone in my bedroom, listening to this song, and trying my best to cry, which I knew you were supposed to do when you get dumped. I wrote about this better in my zine, but in my zine I couldn't provide you with the song.




 Later today my old man came in to where I was laying on the bed typing, and tells me he has something for me. He hands me an old tent bag full of things going clink clink clink. "Is it money," I ask him. He tells me to look inside.

I do, and it's not money. It's all my old running medals. "Your mother pulled them out of the skip. You must've thrown them in there when we were moving house. They've been up in the top cupboard ever since then."

Here's a song I used to listen to a lot when I was being a runner. Note that one of those medals is for a state championships. I've never won one of them as a cyclist. Perhaps I should start listening to Beck again.




Like I've said before, being back here is a matter of constantly crossing the bridge from then to now.
 

However, even with all this moving backwards, I'm also moving forward. You can now follow The New Timer (xthenewtimerx) on Instagram. I haven't quite figured out how to use it just yet, but I'm getting there. Finally moving into the early 2000s.