Disarray II | Gelflings At Play

Author: Molli
Saturday 30th August 2003 at 5:58 am
Category: Angst, Depression, Journal, Poetry

Tags: despair, learning, living

It’s been a wretched couple of weeks or, more to the point, the weeks have been fine, I’ve been wretched. My birthday was what it always is – better for the fact that I didn’t see or hear from a single soul all day – worse because I still sometimes wish I could be different about the whole thing. Oh well, another year survived.

I’ve not been writing for the usual reasons – too much to say but nothing really worth saying. Work has grown increasingly more unbearable and I am, as always, directionless, rudderless…lost. I seem to live with this permanent ache of homesickness. I can’t think how else to explain it except to say that, when it gets this bad, all I feel is that I want to go “home.” The problem being: Where is that? It took me four years to get into my own place again after camping on other people’s doorsteps for all of that time, and I do love being here on my own, surrounded by my books and candles; music playing, open fire blazing – there’s more warmth here than I find anywhere else…… but I spend too much time crying. It just seems so senseless to have created something with all of the trappings of a true home, a place that is so intimately ‘me’ in every way; not a single thing here is impersonal. Every object has its own memory attached, its own story to tell (refrigerator and the like being the exceptions) – yet there is no one to tell those stories to. I already know the memories they represent. I know the significance of every single item on the shelves and window ledges – my home reinforces to ME who I am, but might just as well be silent, empty as far as the rest of the world is concerned.

My sister called me at two a.m a couple of weeks ago to come and pick her up from somewhere. Not an unusual request. When she got into my car she immediately started blathering about herself and what she wants and then asked if I wanted to buy a house with her. No. I’d had a rotten night at work, I was extremely tired, I had to be at back at work at 9am and she wants to start planning my (sorry, “our”) finances. I asked if we could please not get into it as I’d had such a bad night already. Her response was “Just out of curiousity, is there ever a GOOD time to talk to you?” “Probably not, no.” What I was thinking was, “Around about the time you think to ask how I am, what I’ve been up to, how my life’s going.” She never even asks. She just barges into my life whenever it pleases her, dumps herself, her life, her problems etc. on me and never thinks to ask how I’m doing.

And she wants me to LIVE with her? I don’t think so. At least, coming home to an empty house, there’s no expectation of anyone being here who might care.

I need to be up for work in four hours and, surprise surprise, I can’t sleep. Going through one of my ‘bad’ phases again of not being able to sleep at all as opposed to my normal state of not really wanting to sleep and so not even bothering with it. I don’t think it’s helping my state of mind at all.

My boss asked my opinion of something earlier tonight at work and I told him not to ask since it’s patently obvious that my thoughts don’t count for anything there. I then went on to explain where that response came from and then told him that I don’t WANT to care so much about the place when neither the manager nor the owners seem to give a damn. He spent the rest of the night staring at me as though I’d grown another head. I presented a theory to Rob the other night which may or may not be valid. After losing it at work last Friday because of all of the bullshit with customer complaints about my boss and a number of other dramas, I realised that I’ve probably reached this point of being so entirely hung up on everything being perfect there because I don’t have a boyfriend or children to lavish that sort of attention on. I pour my heart and soul into the place because I have nowhere else to focus it. So, either I find myself a hobby in a damn hurry or I quit that place before it kills me. It’s too much to be caring so intensely about every little detail within the business when the people who SHOULD care, quite simply, don’t. Anyway, that’s my theory about why I’m letting minor problems within the place stress me out so badly. From what I’ve seen of other childless women, becoming entirely career orientated seems to be about the norm these days. That would be fine for me too only, a) this restaurant is not MY restaurant, b) waitressing has never been and will never be a ‘career’ for me, it’s simply a way to pay the rent and c) while I do enjoy charming the hell out of every soul to work through the doors, I don’t find the job personally satisfying. It’s effortless and requires nothing in the way of intelligence or creativity.

My mother sent away for an information pack about correspondence courses for me – mostly journalism/editing/story writing orientated. The cheapest course costs just over a thousand dollars and the fees have to be paid up front. Where on earth am I going to get that kind of money? I live week to week with nothing left over for myself. I can’t even afford to buy books anymore and they were my only “luxury” items to begin with. I haven’t bought a new cd in years. Hell, these days I get the resaurant to feed me or I simply don’t bother eating. Even if I could pay for the course as I went, I still don’t have any ’spare’ money for it. Assuming I did, I wouldn’t have a clue as to which direction I’d like to take with my writing. Facts are facts, when it comes right down to it, I simply don’t have any faith in my ability to write professionally at all. I guess, even if I did have the money, I’d most likely find some other “reason” (i.e. excuse) as to why I ‘can’t’ do a course because, at heart, I think it would only prove that I’m not intelligent enough. Little scaredy cat me doesn’t want it PROVEN that she’s stupid! Lame, very lame of me, I know.

There we go, just what the world needs more of – someone whining their trivial bullshit in a public arena!! I bet you’re thrilled you went to the trouble of reading all of this!

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