A call from Peter Jeffries. I thought it might have been NDIS, but there has been no other missed calls. Um, for some reason, on my phone, it all comes up as private numbers. I don't know why. It's kind of interesting, even personal calls. But, uh... I told Pete we're gonna get some property in tambourine, where I'm gonna pay the rent, or NDIS will, and, uh, Peter can leave all these equipment there, and we can start doing work. Um, I'm actually kind of not worried, really, about missing the call, because they're probably pretending they're, uh, busy and whatever, but they're damage control, and that's a great thing. Then I've got my psychiatrist interview, 1245 about my baseline medication, about my mobility allowance. Um, and it's all gonna be an affront on, uh, retard, Sean, my case manager at Centerlink. But who knows, he might be a friend, He may be a foe. You never know. That rhymes, doesn't it?
