Dear Diary

My darlings have delivered unto me enough combined sugar and chocolate to conceivably choke a horse. And I now own a coffee mug so huge that I must be wary of the undertow. It looks like it can hold at least twice the usual amount of caffeine/beverage of choice. Maybe 2.5 times the usual. It's going to be fun finding out what I'm capable of on that much coffee.

I have four out of nineteen of my parcels for Every Girl Deserves Beautiful shipped by air. All items are now in transit, so that's a weight off my shoulders. Two are now in Sydney and, as near as Beloved and I can fathom, being inspected and puzzled over because our import people can't figure out how I could plausibly turn jewellery findings into an offensive weapon.

This is the same mob who let a thumb knife [officially a concealable weapon by Aussie law] through with no qualms whatsoever.

Kinda like how the TSA picks on the Sikhs and Trans whilst letting all the white males [the most dangerous demographic] sail through without a single wand wave. Hell, they let Adam "I blew things up for a living" Savage on an aeroplane with foot long firkin saw blades in his jacket.

If anyone could Macguyver up a deadly weapon out of saw blades and plastic forks, it's that guy.

Anyway, I now have two items in Customs Limbo. Which is now officially an obstacle in the race between China and Burpengary. I have a sneaking suspicion that all nineteen will finally depart Sydney in one huge lump. Which is going to make life interesting for the poor postie.

Or the guy in the parcel truck. I kind'a pity them because I will likely have to sign for each of them individually.

Nineteen times, punch in or scan the parcel number. Nineteen times, hand over the electronic receipt thing. And then I sign that thing and hand it back for the next one.

BUT! I will have enough bits and bobs to make enough interesting earrings to decorate one hundred lovely people at the most. I might have to order more clips immediately, should I become inundated with orders. [I dream, and I dream big]

My plan a the moment is to make an even dozen of each style, so I have a stock to offer, and then make more according to popularity. I'm also planning to offer a free first-timer fact sheet. Things like, "There's no such thing as a clip-on that's 100% comfortable," and more on why. Pros and cons and on and on. It'll cost me nothing to give good clip-on advice.

My weight's back down to a low 94 kilos [the decimal number is lower than 5] so hydration before meals really helps. Lots.

Aaand Beloved and I are getting some investment property. Nothing flash. Not yet. There's a new development of some really fucking ugly hunchback duplexes, out MeMum's way. I find it really ironic that we're going to be owning a place that wouldn't have rented to us back when we were renting.

This will make exactly zero impact on my daily life. It's possibly my habit of desperately trying not to spend loads of money on random shit that allowed us to do the investment property thing in the first place. And we are only getting one of these slum-houses for rich people units, so we're not gloriously wealthy. Not yet.

But it is a sensible, long-term thing to do, because the government's getting really stingy with their alleged 'benefits'. And they're taxing superannuation. Getting into negative gearing and investment stuff is better than hoping the government still has the money owed to you by the time you retire. They can't put your slums rental properties in consolidated revenue and then piss them up a wall. Like they did with Da's retirement funds.

The more I think about it, the more I reckon people are going to realise that their governments aren't doing their jobs so well. The infrastructure is privatised and has gone through that phase where maintenance was not done and it showed. All our taxes are doing is keeping the shirts in Canberra stuffed. And our country twice so.