Just when I think I'll briefly close my eyes for a few minutes the phone rings, isn't that always the way?
Bored, direction less and still poorly motivated. I haven't publicised my holiday widely, thinking a week completing niggling jobs and spending some isolated time would help me regain my equilibrium and gain a bit of perspective. In truth I haven't really gained or done anything for the past two days, beyond visiting the Biddlecombes in Knowle which I'll admit was very valuable.
I'm not even sure how much weight I
have carried for EJT on her return to school; she stuck in her room upstairs and me twiddling around on the internet downstairs. I imagined I'd spent hours writing,
and perhaps I have, but it doesn't appear I have created a great deal
of value.
I have spent a lot of time drinking
coffee and reading newspapers, so at least I'm caffeined-up and up to
date with current affairs.
Thankfully I have a few more days to make this holiday count for something, so I shouldn't despair just yet, although I feel less enthused at the prospect of selling myself & CV completion than I did on Monday. But on Monday at least I was full of gusto to make headway with my jobs list.
We're going to Birmingham tomorrow, a
different city to while away my time in. EJT will shop with her Mum,
and I in turn will mooch-around, imbibe more caffeine & current
affairs, visit Rich at Ignite (with a budget) and perhaps visit the
cinema. The only problem with the flicks is that there is much on at
the moment.
Liz will invariably ask when she gets
in what I have done with my day, and I will shrug my shoulders and
look blank. I think she knows I'm not at my best,
as do family, but we are skirting round the issue whilst we wait to
see how everything progresses.
I have reached the conclusion that a
vast majority of men don't like their jobs.
I like my work (caring) but I don't
like my job (the bureaucracy of caring) I keep looking at a far off hill of
improvement “It'll be better come March” Once all the rubbish
about jobs is resolved and we're in the new building. In terms of
work it is rare for me to be optimistic.
Always struck with the concern; if not
nursing, what? What else can I do?
A record store / label / distro in this
current economic climate (both financial & musical) is madness;
it wouldn't generate the income required. Better as a hobby. I have
to have faith that the right thing will come along.
Not good enough to be a writer, all
novel ideas are trapped in my skull.
Not funny enough to be a comedian.
To much self-esteem and to many
responsibilities to up sticks, run away and hide until it all blows
over.
I'm naval gazing again … never good.
Consequence of a direction less week-off alone. Too much navel
gazing, not enough self-discipline. Story of my life.
Sharp slap ... back on track.
I really should pop into work and forward some information from my hard-drive there to my home PC. But I haven't been able to face going in, I don't need (or want) to be made aware of the goings on in my absence and I don't wish to be embroiled in any discussion. I should have e-mailed it before finishing on the 2nd September, but I simply forgot in the desire to escape as quickly as I could.
I'm going to have to go in, no discussions ... ... ... perhaps on Monday?
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