Got a haircut today. Pretty much just walked past an empty salon, then walked back and right on in to have my hair cut on the spot. And I love it. This is a revelation. I have always had trouble with haircuts before. And how ironic, when I am in a completely new and unknown city, that I walk into a salon, and get the exact cut I asked for, from an Irish hair dresser. Result.
Last week was one of those weeks that I simply want to banish from my existence. Apart from Friday and through the weekend, where Marm came to stay, I was in Hell for four days. Not going to reiterate what went down as it's a tad raw, but I welcomed this week as a new beginning, a fresh start. I am an unemployed person now, with a few prospects - one called Cucina, and the other Gloria. Yes, Familien, I may be returning to the mothership. Which, to be perfectly honest, I am quite content. Translation: my first job (that lasted more than one week and actually knew what my last name was), was at Gloria Jean's Coffees. And I loved it. Love. Loved. Loved it. So cum Friday at precisely 11am, I will be doing a trial at GJ's Randwick. Have applied for a number of other jobs, some of which I'd really love to get, but these past two weeks have been instrumental (as well as painful, emotional, raw and downright awful), in tuning my mind and body to what I can handle, what is good for me, and what I truly want in life. Marm really helped with this. She brought me to life. For a second time. She seems to be quite good at this. We talked. A lot. It was great. I finally had someone to talk to. Over coffee. At the shopping centre. In the car. On my walk. We so weren't meant to be alone in this universe. It gave me so much clarity.
I think too much. I plan. I anticipate. I worry. I obsess. I get disappointed. I drive myself insane. I simply couldn't explain to anyone why I could not stand my job at WMH. The thought of going back there and surviving an eight hour day made me want to slit my wrists. Since the very thought of slitting my wrists causes a queasiness to run through my hands, this was serious. I can't stand blood. At one point, I wanted to be a midwife. In what absurd universe would I ever be able to be the rational party amongst women giving birth? I think I would be the one screaming for an epidural. I can't even hack getting an injection, let alone witness a watermelon being squeezed through a, a...never mind. We all know what I'm talking about. Back to my revelation: WMH was talking big plans. Big plans for me, in the GFS, busy busy full on role, become cadet fighter then sergeant major, blah blah blah. I felt like all these plans were being made for me that were so ill-tuned to what I want for my life. This sounds so melodramatic - get a grip, it's just a job. But as usual, I got carried away, and felt overwhelmed with this expectation that I was going 'it' for the next 20 years. No no no! I want to act! I want to be free! I want to be able to go to Colour Sisterhood on a Thursday morning! I want to put creativity and passion into my work! I felt so trapped there. I didn't want to have this glorious weekend and then have to endure four days of doom and gloom. Gloria Jeans may not seem like much, but hey, at the very least, I will make friends - hoorah for that!
You know what? I'm so glad I'm not working there anymore. I couldn't convince myself any longer of the perks that everyone else kept slugging my way. "Such great money." "Only four days a week!" "Lovely people." "So close to home." "Variety with the two job roles." "Great feather in your resume hat." No. NO. No more. Were any of these people actually walking in my shoes? No. I know it's rich of me to say this, especially since my track record for jobs isn't exactly great, but I refuse to settle. I know I'm only 20, and for some reason seem to be in a hell of a rush to reach my goals, but I don't care. I don't want life to pass me by. Then again, I don't want to end my life prematurely, so I think I better slow down a tad. Just a tad though.
My 'Remember Me' post is incognito. Promise it won't be long.
NIDA tomorrow :)
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