Writer, photographer, "rapper" and general technophobe takes on the internet in what could be a very, very messy fight. But it's alright: she's harder than she looks, and she's wearing every single ring she could get her hands on.


Wednesday, 27 May 2009

Enough is enough

It's 3pm, and I'm half dressed (bottom half still in pyjamas). Today, I have: 
  • visited three job sites, and seriously considered pretending I can speak Polish and have a degree in Business Economics
  • applied for four jobs, none of which I am qualified for
  • applied for two jobs, both of which I am over-qualified for
  • applied for six jobs: none of which I actually want
  • cut a piece of bread so badly that it got stuck in the toaster, burnt and filled the house with smoke, and then I got shouted at "for trying to kill all the appliances again"
  • 'poked' at least four men on Facebook, just because it feels like human contact
  • had a long conversation with the cat, who took that as her cue to follow me around the house, crying and trying to sit on my chest
  • rung my recruitment consultants to explain, again, who I am and what my name is
  • asked my mum if she's finished reading my manuscript yet, so I can start editing: she hadn't
  • watched the last half of One Tree Hill on E4, and then the first half of it on E4+1, and then spent at least ten minutes trying to work out what was going on 
  • taken my grandad to the hospital
  • picked him up again
  • looked at my brand new wrinkles for 12 minutes in the magnifying mirror and wondered whether I was able to see the actual physical onslaught of time and age happening in front of me
  • wondered whether one day I will look like a Skeksky from The Dark Crystal
  • refreshed Hotmail 248 times in the hope that something good was in there. It wasn't
  • asked mum again if she had finished my manuscript. She still hadn't
  • shouted at the cat to leave me alone, and then - when she did - shouted at her to come back because I was lonely and bored

Something has to change, because I've had enough. My plans - to find work, earn money and then bugger off around the world for an indeterminate amount of time, while my book becomes a multi-national best-seller and I'm totally oblivious because I'm teaching children in Indonesia - are going to hell on a hand-cart, as my dad says. I'm not just unemployed anymore: I'm unemployed. Frankly, the only thing stopping me from watching day time telly is the fact that I hate day time telly more than I hate boredom - I'd rather be talking to the cat - and I'm not just happy to take my grandad to the hospital because I'm a nice person and it's raining: I'm happy because it's something to do

So: the plans are simply going to have to change. If life isn't going to bend to me, I'm going to have to bend to it: and so help me God, if I don't do it now I'm going to go absolutely bonkers.

When dad comes home this evening, I'm going to target him with an investment opportunity: enough money to take a TEFL course (Teach English as A Foreign Language course). I will, of course, pay him back when I'm earning: but, more importantly, it will almost guarantee my departure from the house before the end of summer. Which, I'm sure, will make him reach into his pocket quicker than if I put a rocket there: if I'm irritated being here, I think it's fair to say that dad is even more so, as I almost never do the washing up and insist upon playing music he hates far, far too loudly. I also type very loudly, very late at night, and thus dad keeps dreaming about tiny tap-dancing mice (probably: I haven't asked him).

I'm going to do a course, and then I am going to leave. I am going to go and do something, because the recession is showing no signs of loosening its strangle hold, and I simply cannot sit in my pyjamas for the rest of my life: it will kill me. And if teaching English in a strange place is what I need to do to start living again - start experiencing, start seeing, start actually being a part of life, instead of watching it from the sidelines - then teaching English in a strange place is exactly what I'm going to do.

So that's how I'll spend the rest of today. Researching. And possibly making a cake to butter up my dad.

In a minute, obviously. After I've told all this to the cat.