Heaven On Bourke: Honey's I'm Home!

And it's although I just clicked my heels together and I'm back home in my bed feeling the familiar surge of freedom rushing through my veins. What do I do now? I keep my mind occupied by sharing stories of the last two weeks with the girls. Before I know it we're in stitches talking about Queen L's new best friend (to be revealed in a later blog post). As my flight arrived pretty late at night due to unexpected delays we decide to all call it a night. As we walked up the stairs to the very top of the DH in single file my phone suddenly vibrates in my pocket. I slip my hand into the depths of my deliciously warm robe and retrieve the cold metal object - one new message.

"Did you get home safe?"

My heart meltsssss, you're no longer so far away...in fact if I wanted to I could walk to your place right now and slip into your hairy, manly, wildly muscular embrace.

But I don't, I shed my robe and slip into bed - the light goes off and I suddenly feel exhausted and with every moment I sink deeper and deeper in my sheets - goodnight Bourke Street.

Next thing I know my alarm sounds, Good Morningggggggggg.

I realise where I am and smile, I stretch and rub my aching body against the firm mattress (fuck that mountain of heavy luggage). I meet the girls in the living room for a warm cuppa before they head off to work. Hmm what shall I do today? In all honesty I can't afford to eat out but I crave a good Surry Hill's breaky so badly, I opt for the next best thing and catch a cab to Coogee for a warm home cooked meal.

Mr. J is in bed. I press his buzzer several times before he lets me in. I walk up two flights of stairs before I reach his apartment, the door is unlocked so I slip in before any of his prudish neighbours can see me.

His apartment is dark, I look around but can barely make out a black leather couch.

"I'm in here" he groans.

I make my way to the bedroom and walk past his bed where I notice he is laying half naked and draw the blinds.

"It's a beautiful day," I sing

"Just look at the beach!"

He explains to me that after losing his job as a business man of some description who works on Pitt St (I couldn't really tell you what he does because I myself don't even really know) he's gotten into a very productive habit of drinking and sleeping. I comment on his new couch before suggesting he regain his strength with a hearty breakfast that he would make and we would enjoy together on his balcony.

We eat breakfast, it's devine and then he suggests we go for a run to Bondi, I agree and then we set off over the hill. Every girl running the opposite way gets caught off guard when they pass him, why not he's talk dark and handsome and has a cheeky boyish face that any girl could love and trust!

He wants to stop and do exercises and I'm too worried that i'm going to bump into the guy I actually like, we stop and I pretend to be his personal trainer.

"Come on boy, harder!! Wait stay there, thats a good picture".

"I'm feeling pretty lazy/creepy just sitting on this rock watching you".

Where was I you ask well If you look carefully at the picture below you may see the delicate silhouette of a Victorias Secret model - Yes that giant blubber of shadow is me.

Ok time to stretch it out...

Look, I must admit I was pretty impressed - I felt like I might have found my calling as a PT, I congratulated him on his hard work and rested my arms on his legs like the proud compassionate lover than i'm really not!