An easy, fun and liberated year with upwards of 25,000kms on the car clock - weekly cello lessons in Mt Martha and a 3 day per week client an hour up the road in Glen Waverley (with Mike Oldfield's Tubular Bells redlining the car audio): then I saw the neurologist's face last night after telling him of a couple of more complicated episodes through the year.
It looks like "normal" all stops - again.
"I'll try my best" he said of his report to VicRoads.
The sadness about planning a life without driving is giving up Red Hill lifestyle: life among the boobook owls is magnificent, but I won't go through another year or more living here without a licence or public transport, can't do it.
So, inner city living/suburban living? There was a time when I would have embraced it - bands at Richmond's Corner Hotel, Fitzroy St eateries and Queen Victoria market. Sitting on the beach last night processing I figured I need to plan for connectivity this time around - and that necessarily conflicts with the sort of lifestyle I've chosen the past 20 years.
I'll find out mid January, about the same time I find out another MRI result.
True to this blog's name, I'm now utterly bored and tired of this b grade medical drama and want to change channels. The critter in my fusebox has taken on a Seinfeld face - several too many seasons.
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