Okay, so I have been missing in action as far as social media is concerned. I’ve been busy. I have so many things on the go at the moment I’m not sure where I begin and end. Ive had to look after me a bit. Here’s a bit of what I’ve been up to.
You know that Eminem song from 8 Mile that has a line “Back to reality, oh, there goes gravity” – well that’s playing in my head right now.
I have acquired a job (necessary to buy food and pay for shelter and buy four desperately needed new car tyres) with a major retail group, the pay isn’t great and the shift hours are long. To get there I take two buses (I hate buses). I have also started my last 100 hours of clinic and completed a first aid course and am slowly plowing my way through 10 case studies. But I can see the tiny light at the end of the tunnel— I hope to have my studies finished by the end of the year (fingers crossed).
Over Christmas I wrote another novel and edited it. I was hoping to get something out early this year...but that remains to be seen. I’m also working (sporadically) on WS6. The basic story line is done (has been for some time) but I need time to edit the crap out of it.
I’ve also had some family upheavals and my share of issues this year. It’s all weighed me down like a ton of bricks. I also realized (yet again) how unfit I was, from writing and started walking for 45 mins every night with my extremely pleased pooch. I also went to a yoga class.
Though I will admit my main issue has been that I burned the candle at both ends for too long. I suddenly woke up a couple of months ago and realized I was old. The retail job has confirmed this fact, my knees hurt and my sciatica actually woke me up this morning in the wee hours.
So here I am on a rare “day off” thinking there is nothing like having to work packing and stacking and serving all day long to make me realize how much I love to write. The banal mind numbing reality of it all makes me want to escape more than ever to my little world of dreams and fantasy. I long for my writing cave and my words. Funnily enough those muses that left me to deal with my problems have returned, and part of me still feels too tired to indulge them.
This morning I was marveling at the fact that when I fish around in my wardrobe for something to wear on my day off I instantly find what I am looking for. On work days I seem to pull out every ‘size too small’ and inappropriate item I own until I have no choice but to remove the entire contents of my wardrobe onto the floor and sift through it—or turn up at work wearing jeans and a sequined halter neck.
The bus I take to work, smells like socks and mustard, I share the ride there with mostly school children and yesterday they “accidentally” let off a stink bomb. Yes, a real home-made rotten egg-putrid stink bomb that travelled down the bus like an evil mist all the way to the driver who promptly pulled over to scold the offending kids while I sat in the vapor with my cardigan sleeve over my nose wishing to be anywhere but there—even on the next bus, where I would most likely be crammed in like a sardine and left without a seat and have no choice but to stand and try not to be thrust over the other passengers by the G-forces of the bus stopping—whilst simultaneously wishing to quit my job and use the incident as fodder for a book.
When I arrived at work I had been stacking products for half an hour when my manager, for the second time, (third actually) came over and reminded me of the uniform requirements. She offered me a jacket three sizes too small, and I laughed. I had to point out the fact that well-endowed women have to wear clothes a little larger, she returned with a jacket one size up (that I had no chance of ever zipping up) and I had to shove my arms into the polyester sleeves which then made the task of moving my arms (to stack shelves) a little harder. I know there worse things in life but I predicted this exact situation and also the fact that no matter how honest I was with the manager that she wouldn’t understand. (She mentioned something about ordering me a larger size).
To top it off I am being thrown in the deep end next week, with little experience and training, I will be running the store while a staff member is on holiday.
I know I am very capable of doing so, but I've only been there a few weeks. The lead up to this inevitable task has been stressful.

The dog is bored and lethargic, the washing is piling up, all my clothes have been removed from the wardrobe (?) and I don’t know where I am or what I am meant to be doing today—though I feel this tremendous pressure to get something done and my back hurts (sciatica).
Not to mention I have had this pinching urge behind my eyes to cry, for about the last month.
Though I have food and shelter and I no longer slide around corners in my car, though it was fun, I now grip the road and have far less chance of being killed, yay.