Harry and I are through; the relationship was good, very good but it burned itself out towards the end in a final blaze of glory.
Oh my goodness but the climax was worth the wait, yes it was.
Which basically translates as I was up until 2am finishing the book.
Which basically translates as I was a sleep deprived bitch at work today.
I’m serious about the deteriorating language and the blog authorities… Ed.
It didn’t help that there was some power playing and politicking going on that caught me up in the crossfire. You’ll get the idea of how I was affected by it I was when I tell you I threatened to resign and move back to NZ 3x today…
This is largely because I had the most delightful phone call from Woh Woh (aged 2) yesterday who, like my young squire, insists that in every play phone call he makes he is talking to me. Sometimes his mum let’s him ring me just so that some days that’s actually true. We chatted about Thomas (the Tank Engine) and Alfie, the excavator and blew kisses at each other across the Tasman.
But the mood indigo is also about the fact that I really need a break from work, it’s been 6 months since my last time off, and as much as a trip back to NZ is always wonderful there really isn’t much time for lazing on the beach and reading novels and actually switching off. Something an ISTJ like me needs a fair bit of…
Which is what I should be doing next week. Instead of studying.
So, I’ve decided to schedule the time to make sure there is some time out scheduled as well. I mean, I live at the beach, maybe I should actually go there…
Until then I’ll keep breathing, and tonight I’ll take a bottle of bubbles to dinner where I’ll hang out with a couple of my favourite girls, talk about Macs and men and between us we’ll solve the problems of the world. Until I go back into the storm in the morning.
Hopefully, if I sleep a little longer tonight than I did last night I’ll float on the waves, however big they get.
Instead of sinking.
[Not So] Random Collection of Definitions
- Definition of Irritating: No Internet access at home for 72 hours…
- Definition of Ironic: Internet access fixing itself while I spent for 45 (FORTY FIVE) minutes waiting for Optus pick up the dang phone and not noticing that I was back online until the rep actually answered the phone and I had to go back to the laptop to attend to the issue…
- Definition of Mind Numbing: The onhold music at Optus.
- Definition of Incendiary: The effect that the Optus IVR (Integrated Voice Response – i.e automatic answering system) has on me to which I am usually heard to reply “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you”. Seriously.
- Definition of Satisfying: New clothes, seen, tried bought and paid for in less than an hour… (doubly satisfying in that now, should the occasion arise, I’ve actually got something to wear.)
- Definition of Legendary: Having a boss who not only doesn’t mind that a large part of my real job day was spent working on an outside (as in private, for my business) contract but who actually downed his own tools and solved my problem for me in HIS time…
- Definition of Close:Three people sharing a 1 bed apartment. And no, the three of us are not actually sleeping in that bed. I’m on the airbed on the floor. In the kitchen. Between the catfood and the trash can. Now THAT’s close.
- Definition of Short: The time allowed when you only have 1/3 of a 50litre water tank’s worth of hot water for your shower.
- Definition of Daft: Writing a blog post instead of sleeping at 23:38.
And So it Continues
For background to this story see the original note
And the video response
So I came home the other evening to find every last parking space within reasonable walking distance from my home taken, with just one exception, a small block between two driveways which will fit my car from nose to tail.
I’ve parked here before and been objected to in person as apparently one can’t just swing into the driveway ‘willy-nilly‘ with my car there. I’d like to point out that I’m not encroaching on the driveways at all… but I am close to the edges and having been objected to before, I left this [admittedly, virtually illegible] note on my dashboard to cover my butt…
Clearly they didn’t see it… this was under my windshield wiper when I got in the car the next morning.
Next time I’ll just put a piece of paper under my windshield so everyone thinks I’ve already been barked at… Until then I’ll keep posting these notes…
It makes me feel better.
It Was Only a Question of Time
Breathe Dee…
In…
Out…
As if that could be enough to stop the shaking which means I’m appearing to be experiencing delayed shock.
I haven’t blogged much about the year from hell here, (or there really). Actually I’ve not done much more than allude to it at any given time; blogging really only evolved out of it and was therapy to deal with it rather than sustenance through it.
It was a nasty, nasty, nasty situation (and period of time), and it was all because of a man (not a lover but a leader) and it was uglier for the fact that I was in the middle of it all right there, right next to him in the centre, and in being that close I could not see just how ugly it was and neither could I see just how many people were being damaged because of it.
I know, serious stuff. And yes, they were very definitely damaged (as was I), and some of them are still.
It’s been 3 years since the n-bomb went off and he disappeared in a puff of fallout, 3 years since I saw him or his family to whom I had been so close, virtually 3 years to the day. But as the title suggests, as they have not left the area and I haven’t really changed my patterns to avoid them, I met his wife at the shopping centre today [cue sharp intake of breath.]
Truth to tell I’m surprised about how easy it was to slot into conversation, no heart pounding, no drama, just a hug and a ‘Hi’ and 15mins of fairly normal conversation catching up as you would with any old friend after 3 years.
Except that I can’t call them friends. I can’t ever call them friends again. No matter how much they may want to re-establish contact, to get together and chat about the year/s from hell and to work it out with me.
I just can’t do it because I was damaged in their company, and at their direction, and it’s only after long sessions with my shrink that I’m actually back on the ball and any kind of together either emotionally and spiritually.
But until now I’d forgotten how close to them I was.
And, as mental as it sounds, just how much I actually miss them.