I'm in an internet cafe on Sydney Rd and this is a really uncomfortable chair. It's 36 degrees Celsius and I have a blister on my foot from my shoes already.

Numerous holiday fails, most prominently my blue shoes and purple socks. Holiday fails backed up by holidays wins, most prominently my new Mimco wallet that I can not afford but will love for ever. Now watching handbag like a hawk lest someone else decides they really like my new wallet too.

I'm not hungry, and this means a wasted holiday. A number of contributing factors: 20% pissed off, 40% it's too fricking hot to eat anything, 20% emotional turmoil about what city I should be living in and 20% spoilt for choice.

I'd now like to declare blog bankruptcy, just for this week. This is what I won't be writing a post about in the future:

Christmas Day: Anyone in Melbourne who complains about the coffee should pay a visit to the Hobart Airport to see what real desperation is.

Boxing Day: A terrible latte somewhere in St Kilda and a half eaten piece of dry toast. Also an accidental trip to Cranbourne (thank you for the inconvenience Metro). An awful teenage boy says the F word more times in ten minutes than I have in the last month. Best friends drag my sorry self to some pub in Carlton that I don't remember the name of - not because I am wasted, because I am inattentive.

Sunday: Parthenon Cafe on Rathdowne St. Cold poached eggs and oily mushrooms that I push around the plate. Pizza and calamari salad at the Little Creatures Beer Hall on Brunswick St, love the vibe, thumping busy even though it is 3pm, love the VIP treatment (because I do still know some important people in this town.) Much gratitude to Jess Ho for pouring cider down my throat and letting me cry while I was pretending to watch Arrested Development.

Monday: North Cafe on Rathdowne, staffed by hipsters but I don't hold that against them. Latte, best I have had all week. I'm starting to get a bit tanned from boozing in the sun, holiday win. Head out to Dad's house for some Dad time and cold Christmas leftovers. My sister is engaged and has a rock on her finger the size of a bumble bee. I have ring envy. Afternoon, sun still shining, meet the Strawberry Siren at the Black Cat where the staff still remember my name (and probably a few things I wish they didn't remember). With the Siren in tow I make my first pilgrimage to the roof top bar above Cookie. I like. Bulmer's cider on tap and the place reeks of summer. Like being in a real life Corona ad, but in a good way because no one here would dare drink a Corona in public.

Tuesday: Kaleidoscope Cafe, 161 Sydney Rd. More cold poached eggs I don't eat, and I resolve to just stop ordering them because I obviously don't want to eat anything. The coffee's alright, but the company is much better. Lunch with Jeroxie in Clarendon St South Melbourne. As it's the holidays, almost everything is closed. We settle for BaB & 92 (what? yeah that's what I said) Korean and Japanese I settle for a Bento Box. Average, but it did the trick and it wasn't overpriced pasta from the cafe next door. Bronwyn makes me pumpkin gnocchi for dinner and it's delicious. The first full meal I've eaten in well over two weeks, and I am grateful for it. I suspect I am on the emotional mend. I also don't get drunk today, another positive sign.

Wednesday: This is today isn't it? This morning was a wander down Rathdowne, hoping for another spot at North, but I extend myself to the Rathdowne Food Store where a pretty waitress brightens my day, and I get to play with a tiny Chihuahua puppy at the next table. I'm a bit confused by the table salt in a ramekin, blatant false advertising about the quality of the establishment. Beans on toast, undercooked and under seasoned beans don't impress me much but I eat them anyway. I buy a bottle of water from a seven11 and the guy behind the counter is being abused by junkies. How very Melbourne. I"m thinking that I would like to make up the names of ice creams for a living.

So what's next? Good question. I'll let you know when I find out.