Vibrating rooms and other tales from the road...

So, I'm on my seaside break 400-odd kilometres away from home, and yes, they are actually odd.

I'm in the sleepy, lead affected town of Esperance - home of Sammy the Seal and crazy-expensive 'boutique' shops.

After I arrived yesterday, I went on a bit of a stroll to stretch the legs. As I strolled I might've been forgiven for thinking I had sprouted a third leg and turned an unsightly shade of green, as for the duration of my walk, I got looks from everyone; every car, every adult and adolescent - not excluding the canine variety. I'm not sure why everywhere I go in this town, it inspires such passionate spying for the town folk - but, I gotta say, Esperance, I'm not loving it. It's giving me a complex.

Oh yeah, perhaps it could have something to do with my flaming red hair that I had dyed two days ago. Damn it. Damn hairdressers and their winter colours! I'm not sure this colour is going to give me the results I was hoping for. Eeek!

As I was driving down, I came across "Truslove Road" and I wanted to go down there - just to see what was at the end. Alas, I did not. I figured truelove without the 'e', can't be all that true?!

Oh, did I mention my fucking hotel room is vibrating! It wasn't vibrating yesterday when I arrived, but today some little men in big machines are working in the giant sandpit that is my neighbour, and it is actually making the appliances (and my spine) rattle. I'm not sure these sounds and sensations are conducive to relaxation.

I've only thought about work a couple of times and only long enough to be glad I'm not there right now. I hate that it has become another portion of my life that I want to close off from.

SB xx