Tales.

spidera — Mon, 16 Mar 2009 10:28:53 +0000

I am trying to work out what I will do, once I decide to stop working for the Government. Today was a good day, after 11 o’clock. Until then I presented the scan that I’d spent hours and hours on, and had basically nothing to show for. And rabbited away my presentation to the Research branch, while my head was screaming ‘shut up shut up oh god hurry up’, and only relaxed when I walked out of the room.

Everything stresses me out – I am so paranoid and anxious, whenever I’m not bored and procrastinating. I guess I would rather be busy but not so overwhelmed that I don’t know where to start. I would like to be busy with things I know I can do, that I am doing right, rather than staring, waiting to sigh, pull myself together, and hope it’ll be ok. It seems that I am doing alright, though, and that the only thing holding any of us back is experience, in this thing. It’s just a matter of putting up with the public service until experience comes.

I just hope that I never stop getting frustrated with heart-felt agonising over what to call the room in the corner, since the Department isn’t allowed to have ‘libraries’ or ‘resource rooms’, and ‘personal harbour’ has particular connotations. I have my own ideas about rooms so named, that they are a joke, but such ideas are clearly not shared. Inanities in the public service are serious business.

I started my new program at the gym tonight. And cooked the most amazing thing – taking a bit of extra time and actually using more than 3, or the same ingredients, is really worth it. This was just a really simple brown rice, vegetables + tofu and soy sauce.. healthy fried rice, I guess. Nothing bad, so tasty. And I even kept enough leftovers to take to work tomorrow. Despite having eaten way more than I needed to. The gym program is amazing, though. Not cardio based, but it’s been months and months since I’ve walked out of the gym feeling so energised and exhausted. My knees were jelly. Shaking all the way to the car; consciously using my quads to lock my legs with each step was the only way I remained upright. Amazing. Despite being shown the program and half making up my mind to never do it again, I really will make the effort. Ugly, unflattering positions and free-weights and all.

It’s nice to feel slightly excited about work in the morning, instead of abject dread and loathing, which has been standard over the past 2 weeks. And coming home and getting excited about design things has been nice. Eg, black and grey wallpapers, white, black and grey anything.

spidera — Tue, 20 Jan 2009 05:21:37 +0000

The library here is the most dismal I’ve ever seen, unfortunately. The space it occupies is optimistic, being that it could house far, far more than it does. But the high ceilings and airy spaces just make its meagre offerings look more sad and undesirable. I was so excited, being within such lovely walking distance to a library. Alas, the City library is still close to work, and I like accumulating books anyway.

I think I’m just in this mood, though, waiting for things to make me feel better. I’m lonely, waiting to be happy by myself here. Not lonely, desirous of company. I’m waiting for this place to feel like a haven rather than a stark shell that I have to gradually fill up. I hate the couches, and ripping my clothes and limbs every time I walk past one doesn’t make them any less ugly. I need a chair and a table. Though I don’t really need anything. I just want these things that I need more money to buy. The moving and establishment costs of this place have drained me until I start this new job.

I went to this shop on Smith St today, Lost and Found market, which just made me seethe. Maybe I’m not the right kind of person, just terminally unable to see beauty and inspiration in “vintage” things. But some things are just fucking old, hideous and found. Just walking through this place made me feel sick; I don’t want any of this crap in my house. I am running away from crap like this. And I don’t need to be continually assessed by hipster staff, who obviously don’t want people like me in their store anyway. If you put this shop on any other street.. Urgh. That’s what irks me. Also the number of times I read the word ‘vintage’.

I actually love that I am being this discerning with my house, though. I am determined not to ruin this suburb like I have ever other one I have lived in, and high tail it out in 12 months, vowing to never go back. There hasn’t been anything wrong with any of the places, beyond sharehouses losing their shine and my periodic need to get the hell out and start again somewhere new. Having no housemates this time is going to be interesting, though. It’s possibly the worst financial decision I’ve ever made, if I don’t take into account that I’m finally doing what I’ve wanted to do for years.

I’ve already made some significant decisions this year. Like staying in Melbourne, and taking this lease. And they were obviously decisions made in the split second before I even mentally digested what the options ever really were. Like, instead of considering moving to Canberra for what six months ago appeared to be my dream job, crying and getting everybody to convince me that not going is The Right Thing. I was never going to go. And now, staying here for love and this other job seem like the only option. I love this suburb, and this boy who tells me he loves me for the most bizarre reasons. Like, my copy, paste and tab skills, filling out online forms. And my angry and obsessive arrangement of books on my new shelf.

It’s going to be a good year, though. It feels like I can finally breathe, and look for things that I want to do, and actually try and be happy, rather than having to first do my homework and worry about everything else. It’s like I’ve finished worrying about setting myself up, and can actually sit back and enjoy it.

spidera — Thu, 09 Aug 2007 13:13:29 +0000

So lately, I have been spending time reading for uni and putting all my eggs in one basket, again. I need to find something that isn’t dependent on someone else, or something dangerous or unattainable. Because killing time waiting for an internet conversation isn’t something I want to get back into the habit of. I thought I’d stopped that when I was 16. It’s just nice to be able to talk with someone interesting, about nothing in particular, but everything. I have lost the impetus to even try and talk to Michael about most things, and have lost other people with whom I used to talk. There are always things that I’d never tell anyone I know, though.

I am lonely, and the amount of uni work I am ploughing is absolutely monstrous and isolating. People don’t seem to understand that very few contact hours correlates to many, many hours of outside work. I am not being lazy if I don’t work 5 days a week when I only have to be at uni for a few hours a week. Yesterday I spent hours and hours reading and planning my social policy assignment, and today I just sat around wondering how the fuck I will ever be able to get on top of everything. My ‘days off’ are all going to be like this, all guilt-tinged, I know. Because if I’m not at my desk or at uni, I’m procrastinating. I know it’s unhealthy to be unable to enjoy anything, and even worse to sit in front of a computer pretending to work, all day. I am trying, though. And I have been productive. I am just so scared and stretched.

It’s 11:07, I haven’t done any washing because someone’s clothes are still in the machine, I’m not tired, I can’t bring myself to read a fiction book because fiction is a treat that I can’t allow myself when I have so much other stuff to read. I am even dreading the weekend, because tomorrow night will just be awkward around Ben and his friends, and Saturday night will be.. I don’t know, but probably nothing out of the ordinary, or lonely. I want fresh blood! But I don’t know how to move things in that direction, or when, or how. Or if the thrill of the chase is clouding my understanding of the situation. I mean, I’m sure it is, but it’s so much fun. So exciting, new, and unexpected. And ridiculous! But fun! Through this all, I have something to look forward to at the end of the day, and maybe it will be something more than that? I don’t know. I shouldn’t think about it, but I can’t help it. I have butterflies thinking about it. I have to stop, because, you know. Eggs in one basket! Holding onto something that isn’t even there, in the way that I am thinking about it. But fun!

spidera — Tue, 31 Jul 2007 13:28:23 +0000

I spent a lot of time writing, while overseas. It often came down to choosing whether to cart around my book or notebook; the choice made me anxious, and late, on a few occasions. I wondered how I had ever survived without always having a notebook with me, and what I would do back home, when struck with the need to record something. At some point in the re-settling home process, I became ‘too busy’ to read and write, which indicates that something is wrong. I don’t want to lead a life that’s too busy for those things, which became so important for all the right reasons, and kept me sane and together while scared and alone. Or happy and alone.

Over the last few years I have stopped writing, and started filling time with pointless pursuits for which I have nothing to show. I have a wonderful record of heartbreak and travelling, though, but now I also want a fresh start for the rest of things.