I think the ole braineroo needs a bit of a push …

Am attempting, with all my heart and soul, to finish off some work. But words are not flowing from my chocolate-drenched noggin right now. So here I am. Procrastinating online.  Lucky I haven’t checked Facebook in a while.  That could possibly end me for tonight.

Ok, not all my heart and soul.  Some of it.  The majority of it.  The parts that I need to complete my task.  So I can go watch Back to the Future with the boy and then a little Craig Ferguson and then go to bed.

Aaaaand then earlier today I downloaded Viber and Whatsapp onto my iPhone.  Now I feel like the time will soon be upon us (us, or just me?) where I will no longer need to utter words to people to communicate and have meaningful relationships, I will simply send them text messages and they will never hear my voice. EVER.

I recently read somewhere that procrastination is like a credit card. It’s lots of fun untill you get the bill. And by “recently” I mean less than 5 minutes ago. And by “somewhere”, I mean I googled it. Just then. Just then I googled it.


St Leonards is beautiful, and don’t you forget it!

I was walking back to the office from lunch today and a guy without a shirt on ran past me. I didn’t know if he had come from the methadone clinic or Fitness First.  He had pretty decent looking runners on so I’m gonna assume he was more than likely going for his lunchtime run.

Besides, I think if you’re coming from a methadone clinic, your most important health concern is coming off the drugs, not building cardio strength up.

I just submitted a review I should have finished ages ago. I tell myself not to be afraid to fail.  But that was ridiculous.

My feet are freezing.


Keep on keeping on …

I had lunch with a friend on Saturday and we were talking about our jobs. How I was often frustrated with mine and how she really needed one soon as her contract with her current job was nearly up.

I asked her what she would do if money wasn’t an issue. She said she would do something like drawing or painting, or take up art classes. I told her I would write about anything.

Then she said, “It’s funny. All the fun stuff is the stuff that’s the hardest to make a living from”.

So every day I get up, go to work, do my job as best as I can, come home, recharge to do it all over again the next day. At least I’m writing … something … every day.  Which is more than what I was doing two years ago, which was dreaming of it.

Baby steps. If money were no object, I’d probably be doing the same thing I’m doing now. So even though sometimes the daily grind is frustrating and tiring and you really feel like you’re in a rat race, I’m glad it’s in the direction of something I never thought I would be doing.  It’s an evolution. From doing something I thought I wanted to do, to doing something I never want to do again, to realising what I always wanted to do, to then making steps to doing it, to finally – FINALLY – allowing myself to do it and develop it and continually learn and grow.

Evolution. And baby steps. Baby baby baby steps.

Taken from Jiuck's flickr page at http://www.flickr.com/photos/jiuck/

Taken from Jiuck’s flickr page at http://www.flickr.com/photos/jiuck/

My, Haven’t You Grown …

I'm a big kid now, and I just have to accept it. Image taken from http://weknowmemes.com/2013/03/growing-up-sucks/

I’m a big kid now, and I just have to accept it. Image taken from http://weknowmemes.com/2013/03/growing-up-sucks/

Had an epiphany the other day that I am, despite all evidence that may show otherwise, a GROWN-UP.

The fact that I’m calling my adulthood being a “grown-up” is reason for me to believe that I still haven’t really wrapped my late-blooming head around that fact. I should’ve probably stopped being in awe of this the first time I moved out. Or the time I turned 21. Or the time my friends and family members started gettin’ hitched and having kids etc etc.

But nope, I stil kind of think I haven’t reached full-on, hardcore adulthood yet.

So when – and how – did my epiphany hit?

My boyfriend, who is more like my favourite person in the whole world, confirmed he wanted to put up with me till his dying days, knelt in the rain and pulled out a piece of bling  we are now looking to get insured and appraised. I cried. He cried. I joyfully announced it to random people walking past. They congratulated us.

But that’s not when my epiphany hit. It hit when I got home to call the parentals. I looked down at my left hand and the grin grew and grew. Then I noticed my right hand and saw the $3 ring I bought on sale at Lovisa. It was shaped like a skull. It was supposed to look like silver but bits of not silver (I want to say copper?) were showing through. It looked liked a teenager could wear this ring.

It looked like the complete opposite of what my new ring was and what it represented.

I felt like such a fool, like one of those people you see who could really rock a sophisticated outfit but just end up wearing shit from Supre coz they read too many trashy mags and watch too much reality TV.  Then I realised I was probably doing a bit of self-sabotage in this area anyway.

Like the way I come home at the end of every day and do next to no cleaning up, not even a little bit, coz I still act as if I live with the parentals and the dishes will clean themselves, somehow. Hell, I paid for the washing detergent and I bought the plates. I should be able to look after them.

Or the way the inside car handle on the driver’s side of my car snapped and I still haven’t gotten around to fixing it (or rather, organising for someone else to fix it). I paid that car off and it was the best feeling when I got rid of my biggest debt – I should be able to keep that momentum going and put a little love into my car.

Or the way I decided, when I was quite comfortable in an old job, to throw it all in and follow my heart.  It takes courage to change career paths and I did it.  The development has been slow and there is still so much I want to achieve and learn, but I did it.  But I don’t think I give myself enough credit for this move. In fact, if anything, I should use this and build on it too.

I feel like a fraud, like I don’t know if I am a grown-up or not. Like that episode when Monica turns 30 and she completely stuffs up her thank-you speech at her birthday. Old enough to be a thirty year old, but too stupid to do with class.

That’s how I feel like I’m living my whole life!

Ahhhh, the getting of wisdom comes with age, right?

In a little (long) while, I will be part of something bigger than just me. And that’s the most grown-up I’ll ever be. Until a third wheel comes along. But I’m definitely not grown-up enough for that.