Tuesday 18 March 2008

In a heap round their breakfasts in yesterday's clothes

This has to be the worst-timed post ever. I spend all day bored out of my mind, but it's only when I want to have been asleep half an hour ago that I actually get around to writing an update. I might not have internet access or the time to blog at work, but I'm in one of those annoying places where sitting in front of a computer when I get home from work isn't so appealing.

It's no surprise that I miss working in the bookshop. In fairness, I don't think I did the job for anywhere near long enough to appreciate how mind numbing it would get -- I wasn't full time, and didn't stay more than a couple of months, I think 40 hours a week and working weekends (as would inevitably have happened) would have done much to take the shine off it. But right now, I can dream and reminisce about recommending books to customers and talking to cute girls who wanted to know what books of Robert Frost's poetry we had. I don't miss dusting the shelves, or being restricted to only one 20 minute break a day.

I've been avoiding updating lately because my frame of mind or emotional well being took a distinct turn for the worst. I made reference a few weeks back to a shaky state of affairs and despite some occasional patches of sullen sun, things deteriorated. I don't much like talking about how I'm feeling, and so was shutting people out emotionally and writing about it felt just a tiny bit too much like talking about it. Much better to remain quiet with my thoughts of self harm. My powers of hypocrisy know no bounds, it would seem.

It took Dune to make me realise what a complete arse I was being. She gave me a good talking to and told me in no uncertain terms to sort myself out, which got me to pull myself together a bit. It's not like someone has waved a magic wand and made everything all better, but it's got me to stop being so self pitying and actually try and feel a bit more alive. I know perfectly well that the power to be happy is well within my grasp, and that I expend huge emotional effort on feeling shit, and so for the time being I am trying to make an effort to the contrary. It has also been brought to my attention that if I want to move out, I need to make it happen -- rather than sitting around and waiting for my friends to want to move out with me, and if I actually took the time to work out a budget it's more than feasible.

In other news, Dune and I go to Seville on Thursday evening for the long Easter weekend -- to check out the 'Santa Semana', or Holy Week, festival. If I didn't know better, I'd wonder if she was trying to save my soul, since this is the same girl who invited me to go on a pilgrimage last year. Really, I think it's the appeal of Spain and the history and the idea of doing something different. This also means that I am taking half day at work on Thursday, and am making up for it (or making it up in my wages) by starting an hour earlier every day.

The whole issue of work is a particularly sore spot for me right now. Today I was training my newest colleague -- who started just over a week ago and is already looking to leave as soon as she possibly can -- and I noticed on her desk a copy of What Colour Is Your Parachute?, a multi-bestselling guide to job hunting and career changes. I flicked through it a bit, and on noticing some parts on finding out what jobs suit your personality, my colleague mentioned to me the idea that what job one might do could, possibly, not be the best fit. I laughed and said I had little illusions that what I do is something I am well suited to -- it requires no creativity and offers no intellectual stimulation at all, and one of the few things that keeps from insanity is the opportunity to talk to various suppliers on the phone. However, I recognise that 99% of the population of the planet feel the same way about what they do. "Oh, you hate your job? Why didn't you say so? There's a support group for that. It's called EVERYBODY, and they meet at the bar."

I struggle between feeling like I have sold out, that I have given up, that I am one of the people who would have liked to be a writer or an artist or whatever -- but gave up on it, rather than one of the people didn't stop believing and made it happen. If nothing else, at least I have the temperament of the artist.

Adventures continue in London with Dune. We met up with Jiminy and Non-Blondie again, and took again in the sights and smells of East London -- wandering down Brick Lane, before ending up again in the local pub we like, and playing darts. The darts game was made more exciting when Non-Blondie's celebration dance looked like it might send her through the trapdoor into the cellar, but although I would have liked to have won, I don't think that would have been the way to achieve it. And perhaps it was made abundantly clear to all involved that I am not kidding about my coordination or spatial awareness, but I think they were fortunate that nobody accidentally got a dart in the side of the head.

Last weekend, Jon and I returned to Camden with Dune -- and made it further than the pub this time, exploring Camden Lock market, having lunch in a Mexican place in Covent Garden and ending the evening in a pub in Charing Cross. There also as a result of that evening needs to be a whole post now devoted to film and cinema, as it has become a subject so weighty it needs its own space to breathe.

All in all, I've pulled my head out my arse a bit, work sucks, bites and blows -- and never in any good ways, but I have started looking for a new place to live. I stress only started at this point. Oh and I can now speak very rudimentary Spanish -- albeit Latin American Spanish (since it was the only short course the library had left), and with a charming Essex accent.

I am thinking of changing the name of my blog to "Hey man, now you're really living" after the Eels song that makes me happy...

7 comments:

  1. I'm not entirely sure that I've heard the Essex accent described as "charming" before, but then again, I'm not entirely sure that your accent is a particularly strong brand of Essex.

    This post made me sad. I know that you think talking about things isn't going to help things, but I don't think bottling it all up inside is in any way helpful- either to you, or the people around you who want to do what they can to help you. Shutting them out emotionally hurts everyone (I don't for a second mean you should talk about things to make other people feel better, I just think you shouldn't hold it all inside just because you don't think it would be helpful to talk about it. It's hard to predict how opening up can help).

    I'm glad Dune has been able to talk at least a little sense into you. Yes, work sucks, bites and blows, in none of the good fun ways- but on the other side of the coin, it's giving you a regular income which enables you to have some sort of social life, and possibly helping you find somewhere to move out. While I don't think your living arrangements are all that bad at the moment (they could be much, much worse, after all), I can see why you want to move out (and for the record, I definitely would want to in the same circumstances). I know how important it is to you, so I think it's great that you're at least starting to look at it as a feasible option.

    It's all well and good to pine for a more stimulating career path, but I think you're right in that the bookshop probably wouldn't have been great long term either- while the subject matter was interesting, you were, and would continue to be for the foreseeable future, a shop assistant. It's not really any more creative or stimulating than what you're doing now, once the glow and novelty of working with books wore off. That's not to say you should give up on finding a job you enjoy more than your current one, but I don't think allowing yourself to wallow in self-pity over that is going to help matters. I know it's not as easy as saying "snap out of it", but on matters like work, you can choose to look at either the good side (the money and being able to do fun things like London on the weekends, or Spain) or the bad side, and that is going to affect how you feel.

    I think the trip to Spain probably couldn't have come at a better time- if you're starting to pull yourself back together a bit, and work is a sore point, perhaps a little trip away, with a change of scenery, weather, and pace, is just what you need.

    Another essay, sorry. x

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  2. Oh, and in a weird twist of fate, I heard that song on the radio this morning on my way to work... which by my calculations would have been right around the time you were writing this. Creepy!

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  3. I think "charming" is definitely used more ironically in this case, heh :)

    Yes, I have turned into my grandmother. She does good stern talking to's too.

    I reckon Jay, you just gotta do what you can. I think you can afford to move out, if that's what you want and who knows what this job might give you in experience/skills or even something better.

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  4. I hope that spain picks you up a little. It's always good to get some distance between what you do everyday...gives some perspective. I'm glad you have Dune there to give you a stern talking to - maybe you needed it?

    I must add that I'm thoroughly jealous that you can just pick up and go to a new country over the weekend like it's nothing. hmph! Show off.

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  5. Amanda: Don't ever be sorry for writing an essay. It's not that I don't think talking will help, so much as that I don't feel comfortable talking about my feelings. I even struggled with it in therapy. I thought at first you had heard Great Lakes Myth Society on the radio, but it turns out it the was far less exciting Eels you heard. Would you support a blog title change?

    Dune: I don't think you have turned into your grandmother, but she has certainly taught you well in the ways of the stern talking to. Sometimes they are needed though, as in this case, perhaps.

    Raine: thank you x

    Mez: I am thoroughly jealous you live in Melbourne, so I think we're about even! It's not like I can pick up and go to another country any old weekend, being Easter this wasn't cheap by a long way -- but I do very much appreciate being able to see Europe, and resolve to make more of my geographical position.

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  6. Well, I never really understood "Arm the Homeless", or where that came from, so I'd have to say yes. The song has a few mixed feelings, both happy and sad, but everyone thinks you're a crazy old cat, so it could work.

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