7:15 am – ensure I am up to welcome the sun mother’s gifts by ingesting a heroic dose of shrooms the night before. Stare directly at the sun for 5 minutes while repeating my daily affirmation, my housemates won’t ask me to chip in for bill money today!
8:00 am – like our ancestors once did I hunt and forage for my breakfast. Find a delightful-looking beetroot & quinoa salad that one of my 18 housemates must’ve made. Pick out all the good bits and leave the rest for them. I’m a socialist when it comes to other people’s food.
8:30 am – quick chakra recharge session in my crystal room. Position my Himalayan salt lamp towards my door to send out positive vibes to whoever’s food I ate.
9:30 am – now fully charged I thank Gaia for providing for me. Time to cycle into South Freo to meet my first client – a 60-year-old faux-spiritual rich lady who pays me $150 to read her aura.
10:45 am – successfully scammed, I mean, serviced, I turn my mind to myself. Time to make a series of Facebook posts asking where I can find exotic items and services. Ignore any advice I’m given, I just want people to know I am looking for an ayahuasca shaman to guide my next drum circle.
11:45 am – lie to Centrelink about why I wasn’t able to attend any job interviews this week. Let them know that when the universe wants me to get a job, a job will get me.
1:00 pm – beat some rough sleepers to a good dumpster dive spot. Take all the fancy yoghurt and leave some mangy-looking vegetables for the desperate. Make a lengthy Facebook post about my charity.
1:30 pm – cruise down to the park to do some slacklining. Mooch all this French backpacker’s weed while he whines about being moved on from South Beach in his van. I gave him a crystal as compensation for the green.
3:30 pm – arrive home and someone in my commune asks to borrow my bike. Demand $20 and reject their offer to pay it in good vibes. Only I can use that currency. Deflect their negativity when they say I still owe $1500 in rent.
4:30 pm – the ugly demand for monies owed has thrown my chakra out of whack. I must seek out the services of a local healer and realign. Receive full treatment and pay them in Kombucha I stole from my housemates.
5:30 pm – armed with clarity. I request a house meeting via a drum circle. I take the chance to air out my feelings about the negative energy being directed at me. Mother nature doesn’t ask its creations for money so why are all of you?
6:00 pm – once again write a love letter to Pete Evans using my own period juices. One day he will accept me as his wife.
6:30 pm – jump on Bumble to find a dinner. Write a quick social media post about the health benefits of activated goat radish before I set forth.
8:00 pm – I have found myself in the back of a disgusting van again after finding his plans to join Sea Shepherd irresistible. He doesn’t believe in deodorant so the van is pungent with tantric funk. Head back to Hami Hill.
9:00 pm – do my best to wash his stink off me before bed. Collapse onto my floor mattress and annoy the living shit out of my housemates with loud chants as I thank my dream catcher for staving off the employment forces of the universe.
11:30 pm – one final raid on the fridge to secure the best produce for myself. The perfect crime.
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