Fuck

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I tried to do something great today. Perhaps not great, poetic rather. And money was what stopped me. Money and an uncaring ticketing system.

As I walked around Sydney today - yesterday as well - a thought kept tugging at the back of my mind; to hell with work, delay my flight home, find Dawn and meet her. I called Qantas, called Dawn, found the flights and when and where to meet her and checked out of my hostel. I called Martin for his help, told him I was doing something very cool or very stupid and I couldn't tell which - maybe both. I got to the airport and went to the ticketing counter and was stopped dead, my return ticket couldn't be changed. I made two ticketing agents weep that they couldn't help me, that the only option they could offer me would be to just buy a new ticket for wednesday for $3000, or delay for at least a week and return for "only" $1200. To tell the truth, if I had the money I'd probably have spent it.

I don't know if it would or will lead to anything. It's probably a long shot at best, but for the first time in a while I'd really felt good. It wasn't just finding someone to squeeze who liked to squeeze me back - I honestly don't know how much she really felt for me, if this was more than two people out of their element enjoying a little stability. All that mattered was that life wasn't just about work and the drive home and the occasional game of pool anymore and that I was going to do something about it. No wondering what if I'd tried, no thinking "I should have". I was going to, I could say "I did". And fucking money stops me.

As I type, my cel phone's screen save shows superman flying along and smashing into a brick wall. I feel a bit like that now. Tomorrows flight is going to be long.

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