Some Day I'll Burst

Please somebody hire me! I'll do whatever you want. I'll wash your feet, sell your product, clean everything, keep records, be your personal slave. All I ask for is minimum wage (I'm not greedy) and standard 37.5 hours a week, preferably Monday - Friiday but I don't mind doing odd weekends. Oh, I also ask that I work in an environment that is free from negative vibes of any kind. Tranquility is the way forward.

Thank God for my mum. She calms the head when it gets roary and stops me from chucking everything up in the air. OK, she didn't manage to stop me walking out on the last job but if she'd heard the way that c**t taunted me she would have done a lot worse. I thought I was patient but clearly I'm not. I'm rather depressed that my blog has been marred by all the bullshit that I can't even discuss in detail. It frustrates me more that I have to skirt around the issue when I'd love to divulge the layers of lies, deceit and drama that has created this whirlwind at work. If only for the fact it would relieve poor mum and poor Jakers from the burden of having to listen to it.

I know I probably could discuss it properly. I don't tell anyone in work that I have a blog and it's pretty unlikely that anyone who works there would accidentally stumble upon it (now if they were looking up dogging in Tardree forest it would be a different story). I guess it's more for my own sake. I know I don't do a professional job but I'm (meant to be) an adult and I feel that I should be professional about things anyway. I'm hoping that it's just a phase and I'll crack and spill the beans. That would be much more cathartic.

In the meantime, Mexico....

I'll Try Not To Kill You

Next bad day I have in work I'm just gonna count down the days 'til I board that flight to New York. Yes, I finally booked a flight. I leave on the 16th January to New York then catch a flight on the 20th to Mexico, With the mere press of a button and withdrawal of £361.50 from my bank account my mood has greatly improved.

I think I just needed a bit of direction in my life. Something to work towards and look forward to. And, unlike my trip to Thailand, this trip will be a little better organised. It actually feels like a weight's been lifted off my shoulders. This isn't a dream anymore it's reality. And it was probably always as easy as this but I just didn't realise it.

Hopefully my blog will be a lot brighter and interesting in about 6 months time. One thing I know is I won't be going anywhere without my SLR. I missed it so much in Thailand it just ain't worth the agony. I may post the film home to save lugging it about though.

I never regret a single day in Thailand (except the basketball hoop night) but it was hard work arriving and being thrown into teaching so soon. The one thing I really look forward to on my next trip is relaxing and doing whatever I want for a couple of weeks. Of course, knowing me I'll be working within a week as God seems to think I don't like being unemployed.

There are also whispers in the air that I will start driving lessons soon. You can expect posts upon posts of driving disasters. Going to another country to work and live and possibly catch swine flu is nowhere near as scary as the prospect of being inside a huge hunk of metal with wheels and pedals and sticks and gadgets and being expected to actually control it. I find it hard enough steering a shopping trolley so a car should be fun.

Surfin' AJT

As I mentioned before, I've been feeling a bit down (translates as: absoulutelty totally miserable). There is one main reason for this. Work. I don't know how many times I've been told by so many different people that I shouldn't let it get to me. I've agreed with them and tried not to care so much but I've come to realise this is impossible for me. It's just part of who I am. I do care and I do take my job seriously. Which is why I should really be trying my hardest to find a job that requires me to care.

Things got so bad on Monday that I started thinking that I should use my savings to enrol myself on a Social Work course instead of going travelling. I'd get myself a pet rat and work and study until finally I'd be in a postion where I didn't have to settle for minimum wage menial bullshit. But it's my dream to travel and I'd never be happy settling in a career unless I'd experienced the exotic. The pet rat and social work degree will have to wait.

Thankfully, the girls I work with have given me a bit of strength to carry on. I broke down in tears on Monday. They have all agreed it's been a long time coming. Even just that consoles me. I don't mind showing my emotions as long as people understand why I'm feeling them. They have fully backed me up and said they're surprised I lasted this long. They have told this to a key member of the company and they have also told her about their own discontentment. Things are unravelling slowly but I'm clinging onto my sanity for a wee while yet. If I can just ride this job out 'til I go travelling I'll be able to diclose all the gory details but for now I'll keep clinging to my board.

HB's Out Of Lead

Blogger was toying with me there. Being a bit of a dick if you ask me. I was momentarily worried that I wouldn't be able to share the delights of Biorythm charts. I do so love a bit of hippy dippy tosh. But it's true. All of it. Of course it is!

Anyway, these people (I don't know who these people are; hippies, witches, goths?) have decided that everyone has their own personal biorythm chart, which is calculated from your birthdate. This determines when we experience highs and lows in your physical, emotional and intellectual energy.

So this is why I'm feeling so depressed, lethargic and tearful. According to my biorythm chart I'm low in all forms of energy. Basically, right now, I'm lazy, tired, irrational, sad and stupid. That's pretty much accurate. I'll only believe it's true though if in ten days time, like the chart suggests, I'll be on top of the world. And even if I am I'll put it down to the power of suggestion.

Very Woody!

I met a girl on the bus travelling on her own. She said she was gonna cycle from Tibet to Nepal. Crazy, cool chick. She was sweet. Young in age but she had old laughter lines around her eyes. She wants to be gardener, I want to be a carpenter. I think we come from the same place. Heaven maybe. Or hell. Or some crazy jungle on a crazy island in the middle of the ocean where mermaids marry pirates and show them how to find the treasure at the bottom of the sea.

I want to live in a wooden house. A house in a tree made out of trees. I'll sleep in a wooden bed with wooden sheets. I'll brush my hair with a wooden brush and clean my face with the sap from the leaves. I'll watch the wooden TV showing the same Squirrel Show every day. Everything will be bark and smell like the earth.

I wrote this on my travels in Thailand after meeting a lass from Oz who inspired me. She was so disciplined and head strong but she was always late for class due to the fact that she always fell asleep on the train to school and missed her stop. Anyway, my obsession for wood at the time (and still now really) doesn't seem quite so innocent after seeing this Monthy Python sketch. Apparently their funniest sketch ever. My favourite will always be the Lupin sketch where Dennis Moore steals lupins from the rich and gives them to the poor.

Average Friday Afternoon

Life at the Dreen is never dull. Mum's car broke down so Bert had to pick her up from work. They picked me up too. Although it was a short journey it was filled with banter, slagging and laughing. Mostly at Bert. First his early morning driving skills were scrutinised. Then we chortled as Bert's gaze following the strawberry-blond farmer boy driving by on his open top tractor with a cigarette hanging from his mouth James Dean stylee. I asked Bert did he fancy him.

Upon arrival home we were greeted by two gorgeous dog beasts full of joy and happiness at seeing not one, not two but three of their Masters home at the same time (this is a rare occurrence). Then as we sat down for a smoke and coffee, Young Loveheart arrived with two tubs full of locusts. Bert and him were conducting experiments which, inevitably, led to locusts escaping. Very random. But I don't have time to reflect on the randomness and lovliness of life in general because it's the Day of Fri and it's been a heluvva week in work and I have several dates with several people, the most important, of course, being Mr. Jameson.

10th June

Woah! What a day! Not only is it the anniversary of the death of an old boyfriend but it's all kicking off in work. Mum says she can't wait to pick me up each day so she can hear the next installation of the soap opera that is my job. Damn, I really wish I could blog all about it but I can't. For so many reasons. All I can say is that big changes are happening be they for better or worse. Although it's stressful I know I don't have anything to worry about. So I won't.

Anyway, I have more important things to think about today. On the 10th June eight years ago an amazing guy I'd just split up with died in a house fire. You probably wonder why I'd split up with him if he was so amazing but even then, when I was 19, I knew that just because you loved someone didn't mean you were meant to be together. When Will died we'd been split up for a few months. We'd done the splitting-up, falling out, making peace and the wishing each other well for the future. He was happy when he died. He'd got back together with an old flame and he was making plans for the summer. Despite this I still took his death really badly. The guilt, regrets, what-ifs were overwhelming. Every dramatic event in your life plays a part in shaping you as a person. It's only looking back now that I can see the different effects it's had on me. But I'm not writing this seeking sympathy. Eight years is a long time for the heart to heal and, if truth be told, I didn't let myself grieve for that long because I didn't feel I had a right to. When it came down to it I was just lucky to have known him and loved him.

I know this is pretty personal stuff to write about but I've been doing a lot of self-reflecting lately just to try to understand myself better. I'm wary about discussing my emotions but so often I find myself writing blogs that get deleted or I go and do something and by the time I've come back I've lost the nerve to post it. The thing is, I love writing. I don't want to make a career out of it but it's something I do want to be good at and I'm not going to progress with it if I hold back too much.

See, now I just feel like a dick.