Monday, February 13, 2006

Having a Mediocre Job with an Extraordinary Mind.

You know you're in the wrong line of work when more than three parts of your body are resisting you on any given day of the week.

Feet: I have never liked wearing shoes. They make me feel trapped and off-balance. Each day I go to work and my feet resist. They tell me this by producing peach-sized blisters on each of my toes and big flaky pieces of protesting heel. The day I can go through a whole week in bare-feet while still remaining physically, financially and intellectually productive will be a good day indeed.

Back: Lifting 20kg bags of Chelsea sugar isn't overly horrible. But when you lift 10 of these in the space of half an hour and add it to the 10 12kg boxes of Cold Water Surf you lifted an hour ago, you can appreciate that it takes it's toll on your back. The sculpting/toning of my shoulders and arms does little to numb the pain and dread of sacrificing my entire back to a life-time of dull back pain.

Hands: To appear as though your hands belong to a 50 year old male coal-miner at the age of 21 doesn't appeal to me very much. Yet my calloused fingers tell a different story. I will have my typists hands back one day.

Heart: When you're hearts not in it, you can't fake it completely. But you can fake it to the less discernable co-workers. You cannot however fake it to those who really care and know that you can do better.

And the body part that protests the most yet is the most effective at convincing the other body parts to grin and bear it? The brain. My brain. My brain that is slowly being squashed into oblivion by mediocre career choices. I walk down the aisles with a voice beside me saying "You're a writer Renee, what are you doing sorting the Budget Biscuits into their proper place behind the data strip?" How do I answer the voice? How do I take the plunge away from the inevitable obscurity that others relish? How do I divulge the answers to a life-time of wanting something different yet choosing the complacent path into a realm of normal beings.

It's coming. I just needed a hand to hold, a love that pushes me and guides me and knows ultimately that I can do it.

Living Alone

I have never lived all by myself before. It's an interesting novelty that I seem to have had little to no trouble getting used to.

I am quite pleased with the fact that I can come home after work to find everything where and how I left it, and if there were six biscuits in the packet, and I can damn near guarantee that there are still six biscuits in the packet when I return home.

I can play the same Jeff Buckley song 15 times in a row if I choose to, without someone saying "What are you doing you strange girl?" I can even sing loudly and off-key whenever I like.

"Don't you get awfully lonely?" I hear you ask. At night I do. But I have a very special teddy bear during the week and an even more special life-size teddy on the weekends to keep me warm and happy.


Things are picking up alright. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

I'm going to quote for you, something I wrote about three months ago (It's probably not three months, but it will take effort to go and look at the actual date and frankly I can't be arsed.)

Ok here it goes "Life is great. Great flat, great flatmates, great boyfriend, mediocre choice of study"

How can life change so dramatically in such a short amount of time? Is there a pivotal moment in time where these changes take place? Or does the change come about through the ebb and flow of everyday existence? Rhetorical questions aside, I can honestly say that the crucial changes that have happened to me over the past few months were not altogether unexpected.

For one, I moved back home to Hamilton
Two, I got dumped on New Years Day
Three, I am no longer studying
Four, I have a full-time job
Five, I am living alone and I love it
Six, I have met someone wonderful who seems to understand me on a level I never imagined.

Life is so fucking weird..