5.20am

I've been lying awake for the past hour and a half and it may be time to admit that I ain't gettin' back to sleep. My head keeps saying "Whatever happened to a good night's sleep? Whatever happened to Fay Wray?" which suggests to me that my mind has gone all student in the back row in period six of a Friday in the last fortnight of term and I'd better provide it with a more focused activity than lying in bed.

Ooh! I forgot to put the garbage out last night! How convenient that I'm up!

How about that - Just rolled the wheelie bin out as the garbage truck groaned it's way into the street, flashing lights reflecting off the rain-soaked bitumen. Yep. That's the way I roll.

Now... a coffee is in order I believe...

And the top story of the 5.30am news for the day is: George Michael jailed for drunk driving! Crashed into a London shop. Yep. That's pretty drunk. Least I hope so.

Alright. This early start warrants an excellent plan for the day. And here it is:
1. Drink the coffee that's on it's way.
2. 6am - take Blazie on a big, big walk. An hour should do.
3. 7am - nice breakfast - maybe fried tomato, capsicum and onion on toast. And another coffee.
4. Suss out the weather. Visit Sacred. Maybe unrug. Maybe not. That's the way I roll.
5. Go swimming.
6. Dye hair.
7. Watch 'Entertainment Tonight' and 'TMZ'. Cause I can. More coffee.
8. Stuff.
9. Watch 'Ellen'. Cause I can.
10. Check the weather again. Maybe go riding. Maybe not. That's the way I roll.
11. I'm guessing a nap will get the better of me.
12. 6pm - go to the theatre to do front of house for 'Cloudstreet'.

All this is providing the nap I mentioned doesn't actually occur from - say - NOW until - say - 10am. Blazie is still asleep. Actually he got up for a minute, lay on the floor, and then went "Nah. Bed's more comfortable." Pretty smart, the old bear.

I just remembered that I had a dream that Katy Perry got done for drink driving whilst delivering a gift bag to me, that Sean Penn passed out drunk in the middle of crowd surfing whilst performing a big rock ballad at a birthday dance party I was having for a few thousand of my closest friends, and that meanwhile Barbra Streisand was getting very pissed off with my friends and I sitting in the chillout area 'cause she didn't want to be called 'Barbra' and we kept saying 'Barbra this' and 'Barbra that' and 'Barbra', 'Barbra', 'Barbra...'

It's not even my birthday.