RM’s sitting on the couch wearing sporty red shorts and a slinky black singlet and I’m wearing new green slacks with a ‘Tennessee Nashville’ top that I bought from Rivers for six bucks a piece just yesterday. RM is salivating over her ‘stats’ and I’m starting a new post on my laptop that, as usual, has no real direction.

It’s only as I’m writing new green slacks that a months-old, guilt-ridden pressure rushes into my consciousness – party-drug style – and suddenly a direction for this post presents itself.

‘Products! Shit!’ I say to RM, who’s giggling excitedly over some new combination of numbers and squiggles and wing-dings.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I got sent that Nose Frida remember. We used it back in July when Maki was all clogged up and sleepless.’

‘Oh yeah. That was gross.’

‘It worked though. It sucked the gunk from Maki’s nose and then we all slept like nosefrieda1snot-less kings,’ I say, as RM shudders. ‘Anyway, the woman responsible for marketing them has sent me several follow up emails asking if I’d mentioned it yet. She doesn’t get paid unless it makes a blog post. I better write something up…’

‘Shouldn’t you write a post about Makedo first?’

Standing up, tearing off my t-shirt and throwing it across the room in a huff fails to redirect RM’s attention from her very cool Mac-Air and so I am forced to ‘up the ante’ on my hissy fit. I fall back to the couch, flop armless-ly across a few cushions like a startled sea-lion and finish off by wedging myself into an L-shape among the unfolded washing. Despite my impressively dramatic effort RM is still stat-gazing.

After sitting back up, resigned, I say, ‘I just took off my shirt and threw it away because I’m feeling incredible pressure to get these posts done. Pressure makes me feel all sweaty and chaffed. You know that about me.’

makedo-what-will-you-make‘Just do small posts,’ RM says. ‘Two hundred words a piece or something…’

‘I mean, I really like the products. The snot-sucker works well… Archie and Lewis and Maki loved the day with Makedo… and they gave us some free stuff to try at home… you saw all the cardboard castles we built…’

I stop because I am overwhelmed by the memory of dinosaurs and crazy somersaulting dolphins and several bogans doing tricks on jet skis, and then there’s Tyson hugging a plastic walrus and Archie losing his eyelids on a super-fast roller-coaster and it all comes back to me – I owe Sea World a post too. They gave the six of us 50% off a ‘day pass’ – a saving of $150 – if I wrote a post about the experience.

SEA-WORLD-LOGOMy braincase is an old log cabin. I am sitting by the fireplace holding a leaking gas cylinder. I murmur Sea World to RM and pull my knees to my forehead.

‘Don’t worry about Sea World,’ RM says. ‘They should have let us go for free. The kids loved it. It was fun… but we paid more than $150 just to buy them a burger each for lunch.’

‘But the monorail was so cool,’ I moan. ‘And they had such impressive amenities…’

‘Stop saying yes for such a small gain,’ she says. ‘Your time’s worth more than that.’

‘I just want to fit in,’ I whisper. ‘Laugh with the comedians, nod seriously with the high-brows, lift heavy with the bodybuilders, embroid with the embroiders, sign dildos with the porn stars…’

After several minutes of groaning on the couch, staring at my reflection in the lifeless black face of my 42-inch Plasma TV, and listening to RM tap-tap-tapping on her Mac-Air, I sit up, turn on my laptop and say, ‘I just don’t know how I’m going to fit it all in. Archie and Lewis’s swimming lessons, school, kinder, Karate, Gymnastics, homework, housework, The Vasectomy Diaries, the Rick Astley concertand three product posts… plus I also have to complain about having to do all those things and that takes time.’

‘I’m sure you’ll work it out,’ she says, cheerfully.

‘Well, tonight the effort’s beyond me. I’m just going to sit here in my new green slacks, listen to some strange music and watch your eyes sparkling against the glare of an Excel spread sheet.’

‘What are you listening to now?’ she says. ‘Rick Astley?’

‘Nope,’ I say, putting in my earphones. ‘I’m saving that for the concert this Friday night! Right now I’m going to search YouTube for a song that’s a little unbalanced, a little crazy, a little unhinged…’

‘Well, find that song and chill out a bit. You’ll work it out.’

‘Okay,’ I say.