Now of course I'm back to work again (I like eating, apparently, and that kitchen won't pay for itself). Right now I'm tea laden and viciously hating the RCPA QAP survey.
No wait, right now I'm tea-laden and giggly for no good reason. I'm not happy with the RCPA survey, but them's the breaks if you want to work in a professional field and apparently I do.
I'm fighting very hard at the moment not to fall into the Pit of Despair. I changed jobs to give myself some breathing room, but it seems that the indians just keep coming and coming; mixing metaphors is also one of the things I was trying to get myself away from.
The utterly crushing depression at the beginning of the year was a bit crap. In the same way that running over your cat in front of your kid is a bit crap. Not that I have done that, and here I knock on every piece of wood I can find, because just lately, universe, you seem to piss all over me whenever I open my metaphorical or actual mouth. Not that I'm paranoid or anything.
I don't mean anyone has shot my dog (I don't even have a dog) - or run over the cat, if you like that better - just I find myself being held up a bit. I was having a high dudgeon moment about something and not half-an-hour later found I had to do exactly the same thing. Because that's how it all pans out; beware the high horse you ride today because you may have to clean up said horseshit tomorrow. And that high horse horseshit is heavy. Add some insecurity, a dash of loneliness and a ravening fury about the uses to which your life has been put, and hey presto! misery central.
Millions of people have it worse; these things will pass. I'm doing my damnedest not to complain about what I do or don't have, because really, even if I felt I was in the worst job in the world (personally, telemarketing ranks slightly below shovelling shit in an abattoir but only barely), I'm still out in front - look at husbandly and small lad, they are so marvellous - but I'm getting a bit frustrated with the timetable here. There are things I wanted to be doing by now, and I'm not doing them.
Some of those things, like the kitchen, I'm deliberately not touching. The four-month-supposed-to-be-only-one bathroom renovation extravaganza makes me very, very tired and thus not enthused about being without a kitchen for any length of time. So I wait until I can save some more dosh. Okay then.
So then I think about organising the house. It's lovely, of course, to have a house that I can do anything with (in a severely limited way - we have the most stupidly proportioned house in the world; it can't even boast interesting angles). But oh, there are just too many rooms. Obviously thinking about this at four in the morning is a bad idea.
It comes down to being tired. And sidetracked. And tired.
I had my five days off and instead of spending it doing anything I wanted, which incluuded such delightfully decadent things as cleaning the bathroom*, I wound up ill. Before that it was a do I had to attend. Before that another do; and various running around after goods for birthdays, easter, oh wow I'm in fine whingeing form this morning.
I'm not even thinking about writing. I'm so...discouraged and feel like a complete prat. I also feel extraordinarily stupid these days - starting a new job will do that to you.
* I like cleaning our bathroom. Sad sad sad sad sad.
I did finally catch up to current day mimi smartypants, so points to me for that.
And in a horrifying aside, why the hell did I look at this and why am I linking it now?
In my perusals of smartypants, I found about a great website called BookMooch, a site for giving away and receiving free books. Well, nearly free. You pay postage to send them away. My first ten books will go in sometime today.
We watched X-Men: The Last Stand last night before I came in to work. I tried to talk small lad out of it, because it is sad. In the all-of-these-people-die-and-the-good-girl-is-now-bad-and-even-the-others-are-morally-ambiguous sense of sad rather than this-is-a-completely-crap-movie sense. Others may disagree, if they really want to.
At the end of the film, small lad turned to me and said "you're right Mum, it was sad, but sometimes I need to feel sad. I've been happy for yeeeeears now."
He quickly amended years to months, but I like the balance of the outlook. Not quite sure where it came from; I'll take it anyway.
The plan for today, since plans are a good way to stay out of the Pit of Despair, except when I don't/can't/won't stick to them, is to take small lad shopping this afternoon. On the shopping list, aside from something nice for dinner (because boy am I tired of I-can-throw-this-in-a-pot-or-microwave-and-no-cooking-skill-is-required foods), are:
- Lego castles
- Megamind the DVD (as opposed to Megamind the Horse Rustler?)
- Real coffee in a cup and everything, instead of dishwater in cardboard (coming soon to a theatre near you - Dishwater in Cardboard! You won't believe we charged you money for it!)
- A book. Because clearly my collection of two-thousand or so is lacking something.
I'm not really CMV negative, I'm too old for that sort of thing.
