Residential

After 20 months, our building had its inaugural residents' meeting today. Generally a group of like-minded characters hoping to hold the management company to account when they're being crap, and to tackle important issues like broken doors and dangerously overheating flats. However I remain incredulous that one flat owner made an earlier complaint about washing drying on balconies. Who gives a flying f*ck if someone else has a clothes airer with some drying garments during a heatwave. The complainant was obvious during the meeting, and I wanted to advise him to find something more useful to do with his time.

Later I went to Arathi and Scott's with Helen, to eat good Indian food and debrief from last night's viewing of Nanette. It's interesting how much Hannah Gadsby's words have resonated with elements of other people's lives. She was not able to articulate the truth about her sexuality, and certainly not the awful things that happened in her youth, until much later in adulthood. What sort of damage does it do to someone's wellbeing to keep quiet such critical facts about their identity? It's more or less impossible to unpick the answer to that. However until homosexual teenagers or those who identify in other non-heteronormative ways are able to be as open and accepted as their heterosexual peers as they grow up, people will enter adulthood with an unknown degree of mental anguish, even if they haven't faced blatant homo- or transphobia.

Arathi also re-told a hilarious story of mistiming the start of a run after eating and needing to take an emergency ablution break on the guided busway path.