Sigh

I've been a good girl.  I have applied for a couple of jobs - even though, what I really want to do is slack about for a couple of weeks.

I thought the gardening would energise me a little.  Certainly the large solid looking gray spider that emerged from the ground when I was digging a hole caused some swift movement on my part, but mostly just resulted in me having flashbacks as I was about to go to sleep last night.  I think it was a wolf spider (picture at bottom of page of link) but am not sure - there are so many to chose from.

Bloody hate spiders.

Technically I appreciate them and their role in the ecosystem, but I just don't want them near me.  It wouldn't die either.  I kept missing with the hoe and when I did think I'd hit it, it seemed to have no effect.  I think it is still out there.  Doesn't make me want to do any more gardening.

If only it hadn't crawled towards me.  I could have coped if it'd gone the other direction.  I have to go now - I have the shudders again just thinking about it.

My Monday after the encounter with the spider may have slightly resembled this ExplodingDog Cartoon.

Flappy hand wave

It having been so long since I have interacted with anybody, I find it hard to start again.  Rather like the few times I saw my dad after the family broke up.  Nothing to talk about - and as it turned out, no real shared history to base anything on.  He'd always been off working the farm or watching television or talking to other adults.  Being thrown up into the air and caught again when I was a toddler, though thrilling at the time, doesn't leave one with much to converse about.

I am getting a lot of reading done.

I bought a quill and some ink on Thursday.  Perhaps I shall inflict some handwritten letters onto friends next week :) 

I'm FREE!

Called to assemble for a meeting Wednesday afternoon, five minutes before due to log-off and be let loose for the evening, we are informed instructions have come from on-high that all labour hire employees are no longer required and I attempt to stifle my joy discretely and fail, whilst one of my favourite ladies starts to cry.

I am not cut out for call centre work, though perhaps I judge harsh and unfairly? 

I wasn't busy enough because I only knew how to do a little bit of what was required and we weren't allowed to read books or surf the web in-between calls which left me starring off into space figuratively gnawing off a virtual leg and trying to work out finances - as if one is claiming unemployment one is not really supposed to voluntarily leave a job without a good reason and thus apparently incurring a eight week wait before payments will start. 

Enforced stillness has a bad effect on me.  I get emotional and paranoid and like to burst into tears at the slightest provocation.  Completely ridiculous, I know, but I've never had any control over that part of myself and therefore a further downward spiral into self-loathing is like to start, so really ... I cannot express how grateful I am to be let go :)

I have a fridge.  I have chairs.  I have met some very very nice people.  I have even managed to pay off my credit card (though that probably won't last for long).  I have done well out of my last temp job.

Other stuff I wrote whilst at work

O how I miss thee
ever reliable online rhyming dictionary
wot previous was a finger-tip type away
you always knew just what to say
***
Who was it who wrote that song what goes like "time keeps on ticking ticking ticking into the future"?  I want to punch them in the nose.
***
unhappy with my lot
I invest in lotto
***
I wonder if there is a limit to how much Camomile Tea one should drink a day?
***
I would like to live somewhere that has church bells that ring out the hour, like Hobart, but not actually in Hobart.  Hobart is too cold.
***
Like hyperactive ants at the start of their working day
Keen to go forth and produce for Queen and nest
They are feckin' little annoying pests
getting into sealed jars, cupboards and plastic packets, what choice is left?
but to poison the little bast--d pests
Camomile doesn't seem quite enough
or an appropriate equivalent to snuff
out rambunctious bothersome nerves
as poison to ants, what would better serve?
Has anybody got any proper d---s?
sigh, it's not even lunchtime yet.

Stuff I wrote at work

Nothing
my brain screams
stretching the word out to breaking
but quietly
and to itself
instead of shooting off its mouth
and disturbing others who might be less than understanding
at my inability to function without something to distract me
and why is it that when I have to the time to do something right
I will nearly always do it wrong?

***
raindrops keep falling on my head
and running through my brain
but only that one line
over and over again
and maybe i should sing the song that has no end
attack being the best way to defend
but that would just result in my attacking myself with something worse than I already am
farout, this is doing my head in

***
um ... a single rhyme to while the time
that is passing so slowly
but so
I find I'm lacking a rhyme
to torture and tease into some kind of line
leaving me in a bit of a bind
and bereft
loose
dangling in the wind
like unconfined genitalia
and the afternoon continues slowly

Sunday

Only five minutes left of paid internet and I've read hardly anything and how am I going to write anything in that time? gah!

Moooooaannnnnnnnnnn

Aye currumba - these new people - darn them - they leave no signs.  No checklists with insultingly large ticks.  No leaving the grill door open so you know they've been.  Nothing.  Nada.  I have to wait (and anticipate) a letter containing disheartening comments.  Probably they will say something about my old fridge which is currently residing in my carport until such time as I can find someone to take it away.  Maybe they will insist it be gone in two weeks and come back and inspect.  Who knows?  I could care less.  I am sick.  I care for nothing.  Lord please kill me now, so that I do not have to suffer this cold further.

There are no obvious coughs or running red nose to garner sympathy with.  I just feel really really bad.  I live on in vain hope that Glenn Richards will magically release his solo album over the weekend and I can at least die happy.  (I have fingers crossed it will be out by the end of the year).

I am an embarrassement of a fangirl *sigh*  I acknowledge my failings.  When working the election hotline I mentioned him and Augie March whenever Shepparton cropped up or some other town mentioned in one of his songs.  Even Melbourne airport was a trigger, cause the only reason I knew how to spell it was because of The night is a blackbird.

Having spent the last month answering questions about early voting, whether or not somebody is on the electoral roll and attempting to reassure panicing little old ladies about fines, I am afraid I am a little over the election. 

I am still considering watching the coverage this evening, which will make this only the second election I have ever done that for.