Last night I plugged in a USB stick with the audiobook of Bill Bryson's "The Road to Little Dribbling" on it while waiting for my usual nightcap, the ABC's Late Night Live at 10 o'clock. I must've fallen asleep because it's now quarter past seven in the morning, and Bill Bryson is still reading from his 500-page book. Happiness on a stick!
One quick look out the window prompted me to turn to HIGH the electric heater, make myself a quick cup of coffee in the icy-cold kitchen, and return to bed for more of Bill Bryson. There's no point in even turning on the radio and perhaps hear Trump threaten to bomb Norway if he isn't awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for dropping a million bombs on Iran. I can almost hear his inflammatory rambling and weaving rhetoric, "Hand over the fucking Peace Prize or be obliterated."
After her first night of luxury at the Novotel Balikpapan, Padma whatsapped me from Samarinda where she's booked herself into the Vihara Muladharma for three days to attend a Buddhist retreat.
Her bedroom looks a bit more organised than mine but at least I won't have to listen to all that "Om Mani Padme Hum". Better her than me!
