Job Cunting: yes, I'm very mature.Job searching is okay for about three weeks, then it can be a little disheartening. Fortunately for me, I’ve passed through the stage that involves high anxiety and am now enjoying ‘the moment’. I’m selling stuff I don’t need on Trademe, and that makes a massive difference each week. Well, massive to me anyway!
Checking out jobs, I sometimes think I should apply for all sorts of boring and weird things and see if I get any response at all. I could apply for these :
• We are looking for qualified and experienced QA/QC Officer, for immediate start. Minimum 1-year experience required in NZ food manufacturing industry.
• URGENT need for Railway Signalling Technicians for immediate work based in Auckland
• Your interest in banking will help you identify the right banking solution for our customers.
• Are you looking for a customer focused role within the insurance industry? We have an exciting opportunity available.
Yeah, well you get the idea. Sometimes I’ll read an advertisement for something and I’m amazed at the language used. It’s exciting. It’s challenging. You will have to be a team player. You won’t mind going the extra mile. When I read that sort of thing I think. “No”. You have written a stunningly unoriginal advertisement and so you must be unoriginal, your soul and skin brittle with air conditioning, your hair unyielding with product. No, I am not a team player. I like to talk to people, but I prefer to work on things alone, so that I can concentrate. I get too distracted otherwise. I possibly have ADD. The online test said I may be ‘severely ADD’. Gee, steady on. But it would explain why conventional jobs are so difficult for me, why it’s nearly impossible to be tidy no matter how hard I try. This is something for me to investigate. Journey with me (when I can afford to get it properly sorted) as I discover weather Ritalin might actually be the answer.
A friend who got properly tested and diagnosed said it changed her life, that she wouldn’t be where she is now if she hadn’t started taking Ritalin. I asked what effect it had. I’ve been on anti depressants years ago, and the side effects were truly horrible. My friend said she suffers no side effects, that things just feel ‘clear’, like she knows what to do. I wonder if it would help me find my keys more often.
I’ve also been looking for another place to live. I love T and her son, but I long for a quieter atmosphere, and I’d like to use my ‘nice things’ which isn’t advisable when there’s a teenager slamming your rare china into the cupboard with sullen chip inducing regularity. The cost of living alone might work out to save me money in the long run.
It’s actually a beautiful day. I feel excessively tired, as if I’d been trekking for days. I dreamt I had lots of money and two hot men after me. Nice. One of the men was handing me something in the dream, something small with great meaning, but as he did so I was waking up and realising it was a dream. I was disappointed as I thought it was real.
I got a text and a phone call from Simon yesterday. He’d like to take me out for dinner. What he really means is that he wants to slip me onto his big knob. Aint gonna happen.
I don’t know how I expect to meet a lovely man when I stay home reading all the time, but my Golden Dawn experience really rattled me . Ah well, forgive and live. I forgive you bully boy bouncer. You’re just a sad child, and I can understand that. A lot of sad children disguised in the ‘grown up costume’. Being angry and hoping you die in a car accident isn’t going to help.
Well dearies, it’s time to have a bit of lunch and then go and post one of my trademe sales.
Oh, and Andrew and I went and saw that movie ‘The Hunger Games’ the other day. I enjoyed it. I know it’s meant for teenagers, but I thought the acting was pretty good.
I’m currently reading a romantic comedy style book, one of those in which the heroine is always under thirty and about to meet the man of her dreams. She doesn’t go on endless internet dates with men who admit to having wanked in the kiddie pool. When the hot guy in the book does something wrong, it’s all a big misunderstanding.That’s what I thought might happen when I fell for The Painter. I had really hoped he was going to come to his senses like they do in the movies, but nope! Once I accepted that this wasn’t going to be a Drew Barrymore style blockbuster ending, and especially not a Meg Ryan one (don’t vomit), I think I could have accepted it if we were friends, but even that hasn’t happened. Nob. Yes. I'm talking to you Mr Painter Man. Wake up and be a friend ya dick head.
I have to keep remembering that it’s okay. If life is a mirror and I’m meant to find the reason or the lesson, then I guess it would be about being much kinder to myself, and forgiving of others. As I keep being thankful and happy, more to be thankful for will turn up. If someone turns up and they treat me poorly, then instead of lamenting it, complaining excessively, I can find a way to use it as a map. Oh, and don't stick with an abusive situation for extended periods in the name of forgiveness, that doesn't work either. Real forgiveness will lead to healing and renewed joy.
If my life was a modern romantic novel it would be a very long story. I don’t know if I’ve read one where the heroine is over the age of 38, hasn’t had children and does random things career wise . As the days go by, the thought of children becomes less appealing. I know I’d be an amazing, loving mum, and I know if I just wanted to get pregnant Simon would be quite willing ... yet unlikely to be fully present as a father. When he and I first became lovers I asked what his fantasies were, and he looked embarrassed. I thought, oooh, this is gonna be kinky. In fact, it was sort of the opposite of kinky. He said what tipped him over the edge was imagining we weren’t using protection and that he was impregnating me. Goodness.
So Universe, Jesus, Angels, thanks so much for the good friends I have, for the little bits of work that have come my way, for the lovely sun filled room in which I currently sit. Life is damn good. I don’t care if I sound like a wanker, but I’m going to say it; I’ve had three good cups of coffee and that really does make me happy.
The cat, she slumbers. The sky is blue. Moo moo moo. May my own romantic comedy please unfold with a little bit more of the romance and less of the comedic tragedy.
Love well. x
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