Decisions: a Wobbler's worst nightmare
I'm tired and going to write something pissy......
I have three weddings to go to early next year. Little sis gets back from Chile in January and is moving to Wellington to start uni and I want to be here to settle her in and make her home cooked meals. I love Wellie, love my flat (my view is spectacular, the flatties are okay (; ) I have fantastic friends. But apart from the above I have nothing tying me here. I'm just procrastinating, stagnating in a job i'm not passionate about, and surely I'm too young to accept this? Will I still be flatting here when I'm 30 (no doubt with married friends who will take me and the three cats I will have by then in out of pity)? That's not right dammit. I've always liked dogs better than cats.
What brought this on? <<<>>> The realisation of how small my world is. Ungrateful sod that I am. It has been so nice having had a 'home' for almost a year now. But I don't like the idea of waiting for the world to come to me. I haven't been on a flight longer than an hour and a half since I was three when my parents brought baby Lou and I from Adelaide to Tauranga to live. I think it's my earliest memory, I can see a velvety-green curtain on the plane, perhaps dividing cabins. But that wasn't my adventure, it was my parents. I'm grown up now. Well, I should be.
So with the teddy bear leaving at work there is a whisper that I may be offered the role and while it would be a challenge and I would be in a fairly good bargaining position and I could save properly and still live comfortably, I can sense my whimsies being snuffed out in this place, the pixie being manipulted into a "right little bureaucrat". But Limbo has his nasty little hooks into me, because if I find a new job that I love now I might not want to leave. And I so want to take off in May after all the nuptials. Although the idea of leaving also petrifies me. Oh I'm such a lost wee soul, I could slap myself. Laurie is reading a book about how we are all miserable because we have too many choices. Yes, Life would be so much easier if I lived in colonial times, had five kids by now, and a husband that could sue me if I didn't have sex with him.
I know exactly what I'd say to myself right now If I was me.
I have three weddings to go to early next year. Little sis gets back from Chile in January and is moving to Wellington to start uni and I want to be here to settle her in and make her home cooked meals. I love Wellie, love my flat (my view is spectacular, the flatties are okay (; ) I have fantastic friends. But apart from the above I have nothing tying me here. I'm just procrastinating, stagnating in a job i'm not passionate about, and surely I'm too young to accept this? Will I still be flatting here when I'm 30 (no doubt with married friends who will take me and the three cats I will have by then in out of pity)? That's not right dammit. I've always liked dogs better than cats.
What brought this on? <<<>>> The realisation of how small my world is. Ungrateful sod that I am. It has been so nice having had a 'home' for almost a year now. But I don't like the idea of waiting for the world to come to me. I haven't been on a flight longer than an hour and a half since I was three when my parents brought baby Lou and I from Adelaide to Tauranga to live. I think it's my earliest memory, I can see a velvety-green curtain on the plane, perhaps dividing cabins. But that wasn't my adventure, it was my parents. I'm grown up now. Well, I should be.
So with the teddy bear leaving at work there is a whisper that I may be offered the role and while it would be a challenge and I would be in a fairly good bargaining position and I could save properly and still live comfortably, I can sense my whimsies being snuffed out in this place, the pixie being manipulted into a "right little bureaucrat". But Limbo has his nasty little hooks into me, because if I find a new job that I love now I might not want to leave. And I so want to take off in May after all the nuptials. Although the idea of leaving also petrifies me. Oh I'm such a lost wee soul, I could slap myself. Laurie is reading a book about how we are all miserable because we have too many choices. Yes, Life would be so much easier if I lived in colonial times, had five kids by now, and a husband that could sue me if I didn't have sex with him.
I know exactly what I'd say to myself right now If I was me.
posted by Pix @ 11:23 pm
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