I haven't felt free all the time I have been off work. Not really. Most of my time off, I've felt like I should be doing something, which hasn't always been clear. Something. I never seemed to have a moment just to stop and think, this is it, this is my time to put my feet up and relax. I always seemed to be worrying about what I was going to do, work wise, what I should be doing, writing wise, what was I to do, you know, the future generally?
I'm sure that means something? I'm an airhead perhaps? I'm sure that means I wasn't doing it right? I should have gone straight onto the dole and I should have sued my old company for being counts. Now, I think maybe I should have found some casual work.
I'm sure that means... I'm sure that means... I'm sure that means I've just waisted the last 7 months. Wasted?
I mean, at the very least, I should now feel relaxed, refreshed and rejuvenated. I don't, not particularly. Not really. I feel like I have let my life coast and that I always knew that I would have to take the reigns again.
Did I just piss that all away?
Eek ads! I think that is what it means?
Oh, bum. Big fat bum. Bum! Bum! Bum!
That, of course, is a very high brow regret, as, no doubt, you can tell. Of course, I wouldn't change anything, it was what I had to do at the time. How much money did I just blow? It is what has got me to this moment, to this day.
Yay!
And now it is coming to an end and strangely, now I feel like I am on holidays.
This week I have been waiting for the plumber, that's been my job this week. Of course, the bloody plumber has been coming since last Thursday. The second plumber. The first plumber was coming since the Monday week before that... and I still haven't heard from him. Plumber number 2 was coming Thursday, then Friday, then Monday afternoon. Then this afternoon and now, apparently tomorrow afternoon. The office girl is very sorry, she's embarrassed, she says each day, but "the boys" have been tied up in some emergency.
Yay!
And the last of my days slip away.
I just wanted to get my leaking down pipe fixed, so the damp in the wall can be bought under control and then I can repaint the two walls that are affected, then I can rent the room out. Why not, I think, it just sits there empty.
People tell me that I'll get $200 per week for my spare room, To tell you the truth, that is the only reason I want to rent it out. That is enough money for me to want to give it ago.
$200 per week. Does anyone think that sounds about right? I don't know?
Shane pays a lot less than that, but he is a friend and he lives with me because he split up with his boyfriend and needed some where to live, as was the case for everyone who has lived with me. They've all been friends, they've all needed some where to live. My house has been called Reno affectionately for years, as it is where my friends come when they are getting a divorce.
But now, the $200 is purely to make money. This will be the first time that I will live with someone I don't know. It should be interesting? Here we go. Well, here we would have gone if the plumber would just turn up. Of course, I could be fixing the inside while I wait. But this week, while I have been waiting for the plumber, I've felt like having some time off. I've been pissing around with my old photos. I should have been a photographer.
March 01st is my first day of work. Back into the office, back to the concrete jungle, back to the small minds and big egos.
Yay!
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