In One Ear and Out the Other

While the rest of the world is commenting on the Royal Wedding, I'm watching Simon Schama's A History of Britain. The last time I watched this, Alex was a baby and propped up in front of the tv while Simon told us both about King Charles II.

I'm determined to update this blog more regularly then once every couple of months. But not that much happens to me. I go to work. I spend time with the boys. Not exactly the stuff about which sagas can be made, unless they're very boring sagas.

I've spent the last two days re-reading Dune by Frank Herbert. I've read it many times, though not for years now; I got more out of it this time than ever before. Ah, bliss. Almost as good as a warm bath.

Meanwhile William the Bastard is being promised the throne by Edward the Confessor.

Let's leave politics to other heads, since my greatest plans for today involve ironing, dinner and going off to work. Maybe less ironing than the whole three baskets worth, and possibly a less ambitious dinner than roast beef with mini-yorkies; the going off to work will be the same.

I find myself very fractious at the moment. I'm not doing anywhere near the sort of writing I thought I would be doing or at least trying to do, but then I didn't really know what I was getting myself into with very long shifts. I'll get used to them - another six or twelve months. Sigh.

Harumph. I'd say more tomorrow, but I'm not sure about having anything else to say. Twirling onwards then.

The Eyes Have It

I'm awake, it's true.

The new job. Oh, it is terrific. I'm repeating myself on that score quite a lot lately. I don't really believe I've been this lucky.

In May, after Alex's birthday, when all of the dishes were washed, everything done and squared away, I had this thought that "this is how normal people live". Now I'm there. I'm living like a normal person. I'm living - as opposed to lurching from one shift to the next, listening to all of the whingeing about how the roster, she is so bad; listening to complaints about everything under the sun.

My old job was not all bad in total, but it's leading that the best thing anyone can say about a workplace is "it's the same everywhere else". It isn't, something I already knew - after all, I had worked somewhere else - and now I'm living the proof of that. Granted (while I'm qualifying this), not everyone was in the same boat. And that's enough qualification.

I'm still in the honeymoon period, true; real shifts, all on my lonesome, are at the end of this week. All at full tilt (five-on, five-off, two-on, two-off) from then on - but I will have regular days off. I have plans in those days that I will be able to carry out.

Bliss.

So today's plans include some cleaning, some journal writing, some musing on the state of the non-existent but being worked on bathroom (renovations, thy name is hysterical laughter), and some kitchen planning, since that is the next room to go.

First things first. Mindless entertainment today - vacuuming plaster dust. The fun never stops.

Untying the Choking Brain

Finally done it.

I've quit my old job, got a new job and start on October 21. Whooppee!

It's a bit disconcerting that the response from most of my friends has been "about time!". Better late than never, I say, and if I had left earlier, I wouldn't have had the awesome opportunities of the Cerner project. So, could be worse.

Something that cracks me up about this: the willful misunderstanding of why I want to leave all this (what, the curtains?); disregarding that I might have some plans aside from working myself into the ground and assuming this is a negative move. I'm only leaving because I'm not happy? Really? Couldn't be because this is an awesome opportunity and I'm not subject to anyone else's whims than my own and my family's. Bahahahahaha.

Ooh, cat screech just went off in my head. Never mind. When I'm gone...I never have to think about any of this again.

Now onward to another night job, with better conditions, spread of shifts (i.e. there is a spread of shifts, rather than this lurching around with the previous roster). It's a bummer in some respects - finally our roster is getting attended to and I'm about to leave. Sigh.



Never mind, everything is going to be alright.

Spiffy Abounds

For some reason I'm sitting here with a blanket over my knees instead of turning on the air conditioning, but other than that, it's a normal day.

I look up at my ego wall and consider straightening one of my certificates inside its frame, but for some reason I feel affection for its skewed mien.

This week is more and yet more working night shifts with barely any breaks off, but oh well, what the hell, at least I'm not flying into a mountain.

Have once again finally had enough of the neighbour and just been over to ask her to keep it down. Much better than sitting here getting wound up every time her voice penetrates through the three closed doors and brickwork in between. Bloody hell.

Feeling a bit more than slightly guilty at the moment as I'm about a month overdue on my letters to my Aunty, but I hereby vow to write one today and print it on my beautiful new printer. It's awesome.

This afternoon's plan, since I'm free from cooking dinner tonight, is to take t'yoong man out to Campbelltown, buy some batteries for his beautiful new walkie-talkies, some vegetables for all of us and maybe call in to JB Hi-Fi or Dick Smith and get a new toy. A composite AV cable for my iPad, a cordless keyboard, or something. And an iTunes card while I'm there. Maybe. We need food more than we need that and I'll have to check the bank balance first. And I doubt Mark Latham will be there this time, as he was when I bought the printer.

The reason I'm free from cooking dinner tonight is because somehow the boys missed the dinner on the stove yesterday and had sandwiches. I enjoyed it though, although I think I rather overloaded my bowl for work. I spent the rest of the evening walking around very upright because my stomach was so full. Hard life, not.

The creative writing course has finished, although I didn't attend the last class. Originally when I booked in I was working every second week before the class. Not too bad, I think. HA! It turned out to be every week. So on the final, faced with exhaustion and an overwhelming desire not to be looked at like I had two heads, I chickened out.

The previous week I fell asleep at my desk just before the class started (at least it wasn't in class), and the horrified looks were a bit off-putting. So it goes. Still worthwhile, and if I can get the rest of my life sorted I'll book in for another couple that I have my eye on.

Getting my life sorted means getting out of this horrible roster and getting some normality back. Reclaim my life from its ashes and so forth. Possibly attend some social functions. Without having to go to work afterward.

Bliss.

Not just for smack-heads.