Quitting

Wow, this is really really hard. I didn't take into account the hours after work when one is used to de-stressing with a cigarette and a glass of wine. Stressful day added to the mix makes thinsg quite impossible. Woe the day 11 years ago that I put one of these lovely things into my system. It is very very hard to say goodbye. If I want a future that includes children I must give this up. Logically speaking, I don't think I'll be happy at 50 with my cigarettes and no child. In the meantime I have hell to deal with (as well as a 6 day week and management servers going down which makes me unable to do my job re: timesheets/invoices/cost reports).
Small fact added that I need $$. I need these things to work as they should so I can live. OK. Calm down, Ring various important persons on the morrow and fix it. Destroy the detritus of another months failure. Keep hoping.

Before the Fall...

A little bit of pride in seeing my vegan views published. No idea how big/small the readership is, doesn't matter. I have a small glowing coal of satisfaction. Tomorrow Mr and I give up the nefarious cigarettes. I have two left that I will smoke tonight in order to make Monday 'clean'. Apparently smoking adds 10 years to your fertility,-which means I have the same chances of becoming pregnant as as 43 year old...not good. Mind you, it's an old old habit that probably should be chucked in the name of progress. Will busy myself researching animal rights/smoking-related issues. I haven't done this before because I didn't want to quit. Now I do, and I need ammunition. My health has never been sufficient reason. Global warming, land used as cash-crops, the economics of third-world countries and animal testing may just do the trick.
In other news we finally had Lydgate at the cottage on saturday/sunday and I got to feed him again. I forgot how lovely a thing this can be. He grinned so hard when he and mr picked me up from work that my heart leapt. This boy is a lovely thing. We shall whisk him off to Caloola as fast as humanly possible and walk in the bush together. We will cook and play cards and silly word games and have adventures. This thought will keep me going for the next 4 weeks of teaching.

Lorikeets and Millie's Mix

Woke up at leisure, gorgeous winter sun streaming through the kitchen. Sat down to chilli rice and a cup of tea and Kaz Cooke's "Up the Duff" but should have touched wood. Definately not pregnant again this month. Grrr.

Thought, "Well, that sux, might as well do some sucky admin work just to top it all off" and did.

Have found a gorgeous assistant tutor for Saturdays. Faulconbridge will be awash with Grrrl power henceforth.

Realised that too much time on word puzzles was unhealthy and that Mr hadn't had a great meal in some time, so whipped up an onion and 'parmesan' pilaf with some nutty soy burgers for his dinner. This will be served with a nice big salad that only I will eat. He won't mind at all.

Tomorrow is the start of the evil 4 day stretch that wipes me out. It begins at 8.30am with marketing conference calls and doesn't end until 2pm Saturday.

Oh, need to pop into the doctor too and pick up my mega-painkiller prescriptions too. All so much fun. The good news is that my broad beams, shallots and garlic are sprouting merrily and my daffodils and jonquils look strong and healthy. The feathered beauties that frequent my pear tree destroyed my cabbages but left the spinach alone. The umerrow woke up, loved to a sunny spot, slept, woke up, moved to a heater and is asleep again. She lives a marvellous life. I think I need another word game now....

Katoomba hospital saw my bum

That was fun. Pain kind of hijacked the right hempisphere of my skull for a few hours and 3 mersyndol didn't even touch it. So I was bundled into the grey beetle of salvation and promptly deposited at Casualty. A grumpy triage did my obs and I was deposited into emergency. There I waited with a worried Mr, with pain making speech impossible until a white-haired doctor who sounded like Tom Waits felt my head, took my obs again and finally sent for a male nurse to shoot me up with drugs. Now someone other than Mr has seen my bottom. He didn't even tell me what a lovely shade of white it was. Mr tried to placate him by singing a few bars of the Flower Duet from Lakme, but the station nurses started looking thunderous.
Apparently I had a migraine. Never had one before, but am left with tremendous sympathy for sufferers. Dr Waits did test me for a temporal something-or-other but my very special something or other readings were only 11 and 17...apparently that means mild inflammation consistent with viral infection.
I think they should send ones blood to the micro lab and come back with a picture of your very own virus. "Here, this is what you have..show it around at work in case no one believes you". My virus must be very very large with hook-like tentacles and a bad attitude. I suspect it has poison sacs lined up along its barbs and special headache-toxins that race through neural pathways shorting them out (visuals like on medical shows).
Anyhoo, I'm stoned off my nut now. More drugs in me than I would have thought possible. Early night a definite, and serious bed time on the morrow. Another 6 day week approaches and I would prefer it without the screaming agony this time.
All Scottish holidays hereby accepted,-no cooling-off period required.

It would be, it would be so nice....

I would like to be leaving on a Jet-Plane about now. Zonkingly exhausted and relying on caffeinated substances to get me through the day. Uncharacteristically, I'm dreaming of beaches and fruit and breezy huts. Mind you, if someone said 'sorry, the tropics are full, you'll have to go to Scotland' I probably wouldn't weep.
My hand are covered in unsightly chillblains and I have a lergy I can't seem to shake. Right now, I look forward to bedtime. It gets me quite excited,-the idea of an 8 hour blackout.
I want to eat salad but my house is so cold of an evening it seems like torture to even consider it. It is soooooo time for a holiday, even a working holiday would be OK.
I am summoning the energy to teach music for 4 hours this afternoon. The God of pianoforte is apparently not available, nor is the God of 'all children are special' so I'm going to have to try summoning the God of fiscal necessity.
To add to the fun, I have a nice sticky left eye that is suggesting conjunctivitis.
My appetite disappeared last week and hasn't returned. I am quite annoyed at this. One of my stand-by pleasures, and it's out for the count.
It didn't help that I spent 5 hours last night listening to the most depressing client stories in the universe. 'Then I f*n got an f*n sledgehammer and f*n smashed her phone, little b*tch was askin for it. Dont f*n push me, I'm tellin ya' (me trying to explain why text-based study was important to drama development...she thought I meant 'text' messaging).
I need an energy and motivation injection Doctor,-prescription please?

Committed

I think I have finally reached the conclusion that I have indeed taken on too much. Working 6 days a week and trying to study is just not working out real well to be honest. With the demands of two jobs, I am finding that when I do have time to study, my mind is well and truly elsewhere. The second job in particular requires alot more admin hours than were originally mentioned (that, or I'm as slow as a wet week with paperwork), and my hours at the School of Music seem to be increasing.

I have therefore decided that I will defer my Uni enrolment until 1st semester 09. It feels an awful lot like giving up,-even though I know it isn't. I need to reclaim some time for myself to indulge in things that make life worth living. I need some hours to cook meals for us, to be in my garden, to see my friends and family without feeling that I should be studying. I need a full day off to go for a drive to farmers markets, or to see a view. I need time to clean my house and to do the washing. These seem like small and trivial things, but without them I am eating, sleeping and working.

I haven't discussed this with Mr as yet, but I know he'll be supportive. It is a shame, but my strange personality is well-formed and there are things that make existing worthwhile that need to be taken into account. I haven't seen cybervixen for months and my contact with my brother is sporadic at best. I haven't seen a live show in almost a year, and there is no space for personal creative growth.

It's time to say 'enough'. and mean it.
When you see pieces of yourself unravelling you need a day of mending or holes will soon appear in your carefully constructed pattern. You have the option of deliberately unravelling and starting over with a new pattern, should you wish, but if you are fond of the old garment and have no wish to don a new life, mending is preferred. Mending should be undertaken when necessary and extraneous concerns relegated to their rightful place in your grand scheme.

Mending is best accompanied by lots of tea and strolls in winter sunshine. Hand-feeding a king parrot will help, as will laughing at a kitten, mashed potato and fun novels with little intellectual content. I will go to work today and tomorrow. On Sunday, I will make mending phone calls and emails and get things sorted. Wish me luck.

Lovely lovely Sunday

I adore my day off. The sun outside is warm and gentle, the day is still and cool. I slept in, had a leisurely breakfast whilst reading the paper, did a bit of admin, went for a stroll, cooked seitan for this weeks sammiches, and am just about to assemble some vegan pizzas for dinner. Nearly out of yeast flakes though, and that in itself, is quite a tragic shadow over my otherwise relaxing day:-)
The week that was has fled, and the week yet-to-be is fast approaching. I am patting myself on the head smugly for surviving without any major dramas. Mind you, my every muscle is screaming...that would be the direct result of not having done a full-on actors warm-up in over 12 months and then doing 5 sessions in one day. Speaking of which, I am unduly disturbed by the inability of most children to touch their toes. I will change this:-)
I was intending to do some study today, but am trying to convince myself that it is ok to have an afternoon off once a week. Microbiology is an old friend, but statistics and I have never had a warm relationship...
I have a little Cam in one of my classes. He is horribly bright, cheeky and irrepressible...as a result I adore him to pieces. He is so much like our Lydgate it's almost scary:-) I don't mean to play favourites, but it is very hard to remain aloof with this mischevious little sprite.
I am considering an afternoon nap. This seems unbearably lazy, but the idea just won't be shaken. Don't judge me too harshly,-I think I'm going to give in to the impulse for once.