Facebook Farce

I'm on Facebook but I'm still not 100% convinced that it's a good thing. People have been able to track me down despite my use of a pseudonym of sorts. I guess they've seen the people I've added as friends and put two and two together. Why should I be so worried? I have a blog that is available for all the world to see right? Well, no one would know about my blog unless I told them about it. My surname is not on it anywhere and no one would really go looking to see if I had one but on Facebook people deliberatley seek you out. People I may have wanted to forget about (even though that has not yet happened) and I have been surprised by the people I had forgotten about who have made contact with me.

The thing about Facebook, aside from the fact that my very good school friend adds all kinds of nasty messages (which I love by the way) is that it is sooo time consuming and difficult. To do anything you are required to add three million applications and send it to every one of your friends before you even get to say "hello" to them. I don't care if they send me a diamond ring or feed my pet or add fish to my aquarium. For these reasons alone I rarely look at it. When I do however I'm surprised at how much activity has been unleashed since I last logged in. Do these people sit on Facebook all day everyday? Are they there just waiting for someone to throw a mudpie at them? Do they hang out everyday to see who sent them a bottle of vodka at happy hour? Are they so desperate for companionship that they see nothing wrong with throwing gross images of bums with exposed haemorroids at each other? Whatever happened to doing that in real life with a close circle of friends that you actually spent time with face to face?

I can see the advantages of Facebook. For example my brother was able to arrange his twenty year school reunion through it. He tracked down all manner of people who all met in our home town over the long weekend to drink as much booze as they could guzzle at the World's Greatest Pub Crawl. Having gone to my 20 year school reunion just a couple of years ago I can see why it was worth it. Mine was a hoot, even though I hung out that night with the same people I hung out with 20 years ago and promptly ignored the rest, just like I did in school. I would like to think I had grown somewhat since that time but apparently I haven't. Let's face it, they were boring then and were still boring at the school reuinion. Some people just don't change. Maybe that's my fear with Facebook. The boring people will contact me and they will still be boring and that, combined with the hard work that is Facebook, will finally see me deleting my profile and searching for something easier.

Best $99 I ever spent

I had to get out of town for the weekend. After all it was a long one and I had originally planned to head to my home town to join in the World's Greatest Pub Crawl...only to help boost the numbers of course and keep them number one. That was proving to be too difficult to organise so I headed up the coast with the kids instead to see some friends who have recently moved there. Since they now live only one block from the beach, have a fully stocked liquor cabinet and access to the best prawns I've ever tasted, they will from now on be known as My Best Friends and I will be spending so much more quality time with them than ever before. They deserve it.

The only downside to the weekend was the weather. It didn't stop raining. It wasn't enough though to stop us from enjoying ourselves immensely. On the way up there I decided to stop off and buy a portable DVD player just to make the trip a little quieter by keeping Henry entertained. That turned out to be the best money I have ever spent in my entire life. It came in handy too while I was busy taste testing several new wines and eating the best prawns I have ever eaten. The free Dora the Explorer DVD that came with it is now all worn out.

We did get to the beach late Friday afternoon briefly and then my friend and I headed to the surfclub to taste test some local beers while Maya and his wife (my other best friend) took Henry home for a hot bath. Since he won $360 on the pokies he decided to add to his liquor collection on the way home and we continued to live it up as only the luckiest of us can. All in all it was a lovely, relaxing weekend full of sea air, great company and new wines.

Henry's Washing

Henry likes to help me hang out the washing. He also thinks that unless he uses 1000 pegs it will blow away in the wind.

This is my life

I often wonder what my life would look like if it was presented to the world as a black and white sketch. i.e one without depth. How would it look? Would it be presented as me, with my children and husband? The Pacific Ocean behind us? Or the natural Australian bush? Or some chaotic abstract?

I often think about how my life is presented to others. If I was to write one paragraph would it appear interesting? Formulaic? Bloody minded? Boring?

Let me see if I can pique your interest with one paragraph.

Born in a small semi-coastal Queensland town to parents who struggled to keep both their marriage and respective businesses. One of five children, all of whom love and respect each other despite their differences. Never finished high school but later managed to complete one year of university studies and win an academic award for excellence. Spent years moving from one job in one location to another because the lure of life was too magnetic to ignore. Gave birth to a child out of wedlock, raised her predominantly alone. Later married and had another child. Moved into the health research field (which she now loves) as a result of the doldrum work undertaken when employment was a necesary evil. Nearing 40 and still unsure of how to celebrate impending middle age. Proud of the fact that despite all the illegal things she may have done in life she was only caught (unintentionally) shoplifting at age 37. (Everyone needs to be caught for something)

So, I ask you, how do I paint that? Should the Pacific Ocean, peaceful and crazy at the same time, with a hint of mischief, be my backdrop or should I opt for the Australian bush - serene but colourful? Or... should I get some boring studio shot - one in which a neutral background of clouds which represent nothing be my thing?

Happy Mother's Day

To all the wonderful, hardworking, beautiful mothers I know - Happy Mother's Day. I hope yours has been as wonderful as mine. I've enjoyed breakfast with my own beautiful mother, my sisters, who are also mothers, my husband and my children. We then all came back here to drink tea while we straightened my sister's unruly, afro hair with a hair straightener heated to 4000 degrees because that was the only way to get those curls to lose their bounce.

Afterwards is when the real treat came. My husband went out and bought me two dozen of the biggest, freshest pacific oysters he could find and french champagne to go with it. Right now he's cooking me up a prawn curry and I'm salivating at the thought of it.

All this caring and loving leaves me wanting to remind everyone of how important it is to care for even those we don't know very well.

Yesterday I attended the wedding of Maya's half sister. The bride was beautiful, the weather was perfect and the whole thing went off without a hitch. Perfectly planned and executed. After the ceremony we all met up at a nearby cafe for drinks, meals and a little bit of partying. A work colleague of the bride, someone who I had never previously met, was seated at my table for dinner. This woman was such a happy, beautiful person that I warmed to her instantly. She imbibed a little too much on the free flowing champagne and very quickly found herself a little under the weather. She left the table between courses to have a cigarette. When she hadn't returned after the rest of us had finished our meals I got a little worried.

I went to look for her but could not find her. I asked some others, people I thought were her friends, to help me look for her. Their responses shocked me. They were all like "well she's probably gone for a sleep in the park, she was pretty drunk you know. She'll be right. She'll sleep it off and get home some how". I was horrified that they could care so little. We were after all in a cafe, located in an inner city park, a place where one certainly would not want to be left alone under a tree to sleep it off. Who knows what might have happened to her. I continued to search for her but to no avail. I again asked some others to help me find her. I was worried. People who knew her said she didn't normally drink but she was stupid for drinking so much so quickly. It was like they were inviting her to attract trouble. If it were my teenage daughter and her friends were so callous I would lock her up and never let her near them ever again.

Eventually she was found. She had been just across the road, waiting for the effects to wear off a little. She was ok. A little sick but otherwise fine.

Guitar picking

My daughter has gone to a party and taken her guitar. Should I be worried? I would like to think not because she is a superstar now. A guitar picking, song playing superstar in her own right. She jammed with my brother-in-law last weekend and he has been short listed to play with Paul Kelly through a Triple J competition. That means she's only a breath away from stardom. Soon I'll be kicking away potential suitors from the door.

Until she returns I'll stay awake. I wouldn't want her to think I was happy enough to sleep while she was showcasing her talents in front of her peers.

PS ignore the curtains in the background of this photo, although I quite like their hideousness. They came with my sister and her husband's recently purchased home. They have no intention of keeping them, at least not in that room. They were thinking of giving them pride of place in the loungeroom.

Busted Whoopee Cushion

Whoa! Look at me, two posts in one day! I had something on my mind and it occurred to me that perhaps there are other people in the world who are as insane as me sometimes. I occasionally get these irrational thoughts of having to be super organised. I only sometimes have these thoughts because usually I am so "take it as it comes" and life gets a bit crazy as a result.

Anyway I had just opened the refrigerator to find all manner of half eaten left overs. All of them still perfectly eatable but by next week they won't be. Suddenly I thought I had better get rid of everything in the fridge because, you know, I might be starting my new job for real next week and well, all this fridge stuff will be in the way and I might never get a chance to clean it up, EVER!

Then I panicked about the enormous pile of ironing lying on my spare sofa, right in the middle of the loungeroom, right where I can see it. I wondered if I should manically start ironing but then I just walked right past it. I did nothing about that panicky thought and as soon as I had moved away I had a panicky thought about how dirty the floor is. I've been so caught up in having no job and believing I'll have time for it tomorrow that nothing has been done. I know I've said in my previous posts that I've been doing this stuff but I lied. I haven't done any of it. There's stuff that needs to be done and I've not done any of it!

I have been busy job hunting and catching up on talking to my friends by email who are probably going to be so happy that I have a job to go to and will not have the time to harass them with written words of nothing. They'll probably throw a party.

I sat on the whoopee cushion too hard and busted it. It's no longer funny.

So I'm over the business of finding a new job, although I did yesterday receive two more requests for an interview. It felt pretty good to say I was no longer in the running. Still I have yet to iron out the details of my new job. Hopefully that is going to happen Monday. In the meantime I now need to find time to just hang out and do nothing.

Week one of being unemployed was full of the grief one feels over losing a job. Week two was full of applying for jobs and week three has been tidying up loose ends. Now I need one more week just to lie around like a slob sucking on lollypops and reading trashy novels. Of course if I get a spare week that's not what I will really do. I'll more than likely spend it doing some more washing, ironing, shopping, cooking and cleaning. Anymore weeks off work and I will be dead broke so I probably shouldn't push it too far.

Henry has taken to role playing and always wants to play "daycare". He wants me to be him and for him to be mummy or Miss Alison, his day care teacher. Last week he had an ear infection. He had a dose of anti-biotics over the weekend and seemed fine to go back to daycare on the Monday so I sent him. I got a call from Miss Alison around lunchtime telling me he was upset and saying his ear hurt. As I had just finished at a job interview I asked her to comfort him till I got there and to tell him I was on my way.

He had fallen asleep by the time I arrived so I picked him up and carried him out to the car. He roused and was fully awake by the time we got home. I gave him a dose of pain killers and he was back to his hell-raising antics within half an hour. It's this episode that he wants to replay when we play "daycare".

He tells me, in a stern voice, to just lie down and rest on my mattress. Then he suddenly shows concern for me and in a gentle voice says "it's alright, your mummy is coming soon". He then walks out of the room and comes back with a huge smile on his face and says "Hi darling, are you ok?" He leans in close and whispers in my ear something unintelligible. He then attempts to pick me up and tells me he is going to take me to see Dr Helen. He then runs out to get his doctor kit and comes back to gently guide me into the chair. He says "Now Henry, how are you feeling? Is your ear sore?". He checks me over thoroughly just as Dr Helen would. Then he offers me a lolly and says "I'll show you to the door, it was nice to see you again Henry. I hope you're feeling better soon".

If I say the wrong thing at the wrong time during these games I get a lecture. He stands with his hands on hip and talks in a stern voice but doesn't seem to be saying anything I can understand. Perhaps that's a sign that he doesn't understand me when I am angry...phew!

So we have just now bought a whooppee cushion and the two of us haven't laughed so much in months. The best $2.99 I've ever spent. Fake farts are just so damned amusing.

Job after job after job

I've been out of work just a little over a week and I've had two job offers. I also had a second interview this morning for a job I'm not sure I'm suited to but I've had a verbal offer for a job I am very excited about. All the details of it are yet to be polished as they have created a position for me.

Finally I managed to land an interview with someone who recognised and appreciated my talents.

In the meantime I will enjoy my time at home taking care of the family and doing their washing, ironing, cooking and cleaning. After that I'll be keen to get back to work and ignore it.

Lovely shirt and other lovely shirt

Being unemployed means not having to dress up because, well I've got nowhere to go. I've tried to make some kind of an effort to look at least half way reasonable while hanging out at home however. Yesterday I pulled out my nicest pair of jeans (the ones without any holes in them), t-shirt and knitted shirt which is unravelling at the seams. Henry took one look at me and said "Mum, why do you have on that lovely pair of jeans and lovely shirt and other lovely shirt?"

I told him that I had dressed like a Queen just for him. I wanted him to admire me for my ability to continue to pay attention to my appearance even when I have no reason to.

Sons are the best things a mother can have. Henry is always complimenting me. When I get a hair cut he is always the first to say "Mum, your hair looks nice". If Ben or Maya leave the house with only a cursory goodbye Henry quickly prompts them to say it "nicer". "Dad and Sister, you need to say goodbye nicer to Mum and give her a kiss".

I know that this might not necessarily carry over into his teenage years or his adult years but for now I'm going to soak it up.

SC1 - Demonstrated ability to update blog in a timely manner

The process of looking for a job is a full time job in itself. It is almost impossible to find the time to find one if you already have a job. Lucky for me I don't currently have one.

I've addressed selection criteria after selection criteria and written cover letter after cover letter. Well maybe about four or five in actual fact but because addressing selection criteria can sometimes take an entire day it feels like I've addressed millions of them. And why do they all have to be so ridiculously stupid? "Demonstrated ability to multi-task in a deadline driven environment while remaining calm under pressure". Of course you can't write something like "I have been a mother for 15 years and multi-tasking is my second name. I am able to successfuly use the bathroom while taking a call and peeling a banana for my toddler son whose deadlines are non-negotiable. I have however, well developed negotiating skills when dealing with more reasonable and mature minded people such as my husband and 15 year old daughter who have learned that patience always pays off. I am able to calmly explain to them that requests from the Managing Director take priority because he is easily able to make life unbearable for the rest of the team if his needs are not met".

No, one must sell oneself when addressing selection criteria and although I would consider the above example to be perfect, a potential money paying employer doesn't want to hear it. They want to know that you're familiar with job hunting buzz words like "team player", "implement", "Executive decision making skills", "effective communication skills", "exceeding sales expectations". Things that at the end of the day just show that you know how to use buzz words but don't say that you in any way can do the job.

So obviously I've managed to address some selection criterias reasonably well in the past week because I've been out of a job only one week and already had two very positive interviews. While I need the money I kind of wish it had been a little harder. Some more time to dwell on my own much needed mind rest would have been nice.

Never mind, there are plenty of people looking for jobs and I should just be grateful. But all those Gen Y'ers out there looking to change careers so frequently are turning the tides with employers. They're looking now for people who want to commit and are offering great working incentives to keep them. Lucky for me I guess.

Will keep you all posted on my progress

Love and Dusters

Why is it that men look sexy when they're pushing a vacuum cleaner and weilding a duster but women just look tired and frumpy?

I know the answer to that and it's probably worthy of even further psychoanalysis but I'm not sure if I have the energy to go into that right now. Oh stuff it, I will.

It's because it's so rare for men to be seen doing anything other than lying on the couch with a beer in one hand and a remote control in the other. They're out of their comfort zone but when they do deign to pick up the duster they do a damn good job. That makes them hotter than hell. It makes us want to remind ourselves of why we married them in the first place. Sadly that's when we have to make the effort to wash our best flannelette pyjamas and dig in our drawers for the "love" undies - the only pair we own without a hole in them - and show them how much we appreciate the fact that they appreciate us enough to pick up the duster.

Crappiest Week Ever.

Since the only joy I've had this week was hearing Henry ask the cafe waitress if she knew the Spider Pig song I'm not going to write about it (my week that is). I am going to say that I'd love to run away to a deserted island that has a refrigerator stocked full of tequila, lemons and sea salt.

Anyone want to join me?

Bamboo Energy

This morning, just when I was wondering what I could do to entertain Henry, I got a text message from Carla. She was heading to the Botanical Gardens to entertain her own children there. She invited us along. Perfect! My brain was able to relax because it had been given an answer my other brain did not have to seek out.

As always Carla and I discuss the difficulties of parenting small children. She has two small children and I only have one small child but still the difficulties are the same. We sometimes remember to say how nice they are too. She's decided that the only way to get any peace for part of the day is to take her children out and tire them out. I'm the same. If Henry is bored for even two minutes my life is hell. Sometimes I am already sick of hearing the word "Mum" by 6AM. The word is usually accompanied by a bored sounding groan. It's similar to a cat who hasn't been fed for a few hours. It's "Muuuummmm" followed by leg hanging. It's nice to be so loved but not so nice when you're trying to take care of morning ablutions - the time when EVERYONE deserves privacy.

Charli and Henry greated each other with the biggest of hugs as though they hadn't seen each other for almost a century. Henry, whose energy is never depleted, had climbed several rocks, swung from some bamboo and swum across the lake by the time Charli warmed up. By then Zie was getting ready to sleep so we had to leave.

On the way home we stopped by the local barber to have Henry's hair trimmed. Despite my telling the guy that I didn't want short back and sides that's what he got. He looks like an army sergeant now. I won't be taking orders from him.

Whip Cracking Easter

Whip Cracking




Keeping Up



Disturbing the Peace





I often wonder how my children would have turned out if I was a Labeller. By Labeller I don't mean one who likes to file away personality types. I'm talking in the more literal sense. You know, like if I was to get my Brother P40 and make labels for everything in the home. Labels such as "leftovers 13/3/2008", or, "White Undies size 10", or, "Please Place Your Stinking Rubbish In The Bin and DO NOT Leave It Lying On The Floor Or I Will Kill You".


If I had been a Labelling Parent would I have had enough spontenaity about me to want to teach my son how to crack a whip (as shown in the photo above labelled "whipcraking").

My father taught me how to crack a whip and this weekend I displayed the technique as I was taught it to my 17 year old nephew. Since my nephew was a toddler all he has ever wanted is a farm of his own, full of big bad bulls to boss around and because whip cracking is an essential farm-owner skill he knows how to do it well. He dared to challenge my technique and my claim that my father had taught it to me. In his gruff 17 year old manner he grabbed the whip from my hands and said "Grandy would never have taught you to crack a whip like that. You'll knock your bloody eye out" and proceeded to show me how it was done. I didn't admit it to him but he was good and although I could crack it my technique was crap. He can swing that thing around his head and crack it one billion times while it's still airborne. I'm not even kidding a little bit. It's not surprising really. My father, who taught my nephew had a favourite trick; to have us hold a lit cigarette in our mouths just so he could knock it out with the whip. I don't want to hear any of you saying that it was child abuse because I was a fully grown adult at the time and that was his way of saying "don't smoke".

I was trying to teach Henry the technique that I claimed my father had taught me but my nephew took over. After a long observation time of approximately thirty seconds Henry thought he had it down pat. He ordered his father to "stay out of the way Dad, just stand back, this is really dangerous". He then proceeded to try and swing that whip around his head just like he'd seen his cousin do. He almost got it right.

He also thought one afternoon that he would join Maya and Riley for a bike ride. Unfortunately they were way too fast for him. He tried hard to keep up as they rode down the driveway and out the gate. As they got further away his feet left the pedals and hit the ground. He must have thought he would somehow go faster that way.

The Easter bunny came and left some eggs in his Easter nest, made from an old hat and some grass and the cow, heavily pregnant, kept to herself despite Henry's best efforts to disturb her peace.

We had a fantastic time and it was a shame to come home. to avoid the weekend traffic we drove home via the inland higway and enjoyed the scenery but it took us a very long time to get back. If I was a Labeller I would probably have printed one that said "Successful Family Weekend" because none of us fought...much.

Thunderbird 3 - Get Ready for Blast Off!

Henry has been asking for a Tracy Island for some time. He's even begged me to make him one. I tried but apparently we didn't have enough alfoil or the right sized yoghurt containers. This is Australia, not England and we don't have Blue Peter.

We've searched, kind of, for a Tracy Island and the asking price of some of them on ebay is equal to the national debt of a third world nation. This obsession might be short lived too and we're not prepared to get a bank loan to buy one.

As I was mentioning Henry's obsession in the lunch room at work one of my co-workers piped up to tell me she had one sitting in her shed and it was going to be donated to charity over the coming weekend so it was lucky I brought it up when I did. Yesterday, she brought it in and I brought it home. I locked it in the boot of the car and when we got home I gave him three guesses as to what could be in there. His first guess was "It's Thunderbird 2", second guess was "It's great", third guess was "I'm going to love it". He was right on two counts. When he saw it he almost stopped breathing.

He hasn't left it alone since and even insisted on sleeping with it last night. As he drifted off he said "Mum, this is so totally cool and I am so totally lucky".

The power switch is currently switched to off

Maya has started her own blog and last night she was reading mine, you know, just to make sure it's not better than hers. She said, "Mum, this is funny, you're not that funny in real life but for some reason all my friends think you are". I told her it was because they were obviously smart and she had a lot more work to do in human studies.

So far she hasn't written much on it and I'm allowed to link to it but there's no way she's EVER going to link to mine. That would be just plain embarrassing. If I had a myspace she would positively die from the embarrassment of it all because everyone knows that if you do have a myspace you need to delete it as soon as you have finished celebrating your 25th birthday.

There's also something really very cool about today. No it's not my birthday. I am actually home ALL ALONE. That's right, there's no one here but me. I have the music turned up to full volume and I'm reveling in the peace inside my brain.

Even I think they're totally cool

Henry's current obsession is the Thunderbirds. This obsession is much more intense than any other he has so far had. We thought it might be nice to buy him some kind of Thunderbird toy and so looked to see what we could get. Apparently not much under $300 because it's no longer made. Anyone with anything Thunderbirds related should check out ebay to see how much their treasured childhood toys are going for. We did however find a box of Thunderbird VHS movies and episodes. He's watched them all over and over. This is his effort at turning them, and a few misfits, into Thunderbird 2.

A young guy that I work with loved Thunderbirds too as a child and brought me in a matchbox model of Thunderbird 1 which has not left Henry's hands since he got it.

Special Online Price Today Only. No Further Reductions. 20% Off. Until Friday.

Today is Friday and I don't work on Fridays. Well I don't get paid for the work I do on Friday at least. Usually Fridays are put aside for catching up on all the stuff I don't get done at home while I'm out getting paid to work. But I also have Henry at home with me on Fridays. I love that about Fridays but it also means I'm limited in what I can actually get done. I've learned to compartmentalise and prioritise my Friday. I usually decide what I'm going to do for the day soon after I wake up. I dream about the list of things that need taking care of in the early hours while I'm drifting in and out of sleep and then while drinking my first cup of tea I mull over them all. Usually I've made a final decision by the time I take the last sip.

This morning, while mulling through the list in my mind I decided I wanted to do something that would have a visually appealing end to it. The pile of bills, while they would be able to be filed once they were paid would simply make my bank statement ugly. The pile of clean washing had only grown over the week and while it might get put away if I folded it, it would grow just as large by the end of the day. I could dust and vacuum but it seemed pointless because the dust never disappears, it just moves up into the air and then settles again somewhere else. I walked outside to say good morning to the world and took a look at the state of the garden. I knew then that I was going to at least make an effort to do something about it.

Normally I try to achieve only two things on Friday. That's realistic for me considering I have Henry at home with me. If I think I can do more than that and don't manage it I get frustrated. So I decided it would be the gardening and the folding of the clean washing and if I can complete only those two things I will feel a sense of achievement.

I'm a lazy gardener. I like gardens but I don't have the time to do anything too creative or to dig weeds all day. I like to do things the easy way. My garden was looking more like a weedbed than a garden and the few actual plants that are in it all look a bit sick. Never mind, I thought. I'll just break that job down into smaller parts too. I'll get weed matting and then some mulch and that should do it.

I went online to find the contact details for our local lanscape supply place. I was going to call them to see firstly if they stocked weed matting and secondly how much it was per metre. Their website told me all I needed to know. They had it in stock and it was $1.80 per metre. I put Henry in the car and off we went. Less than a five minute drive from home and we were there.

I told the young but friendly looking girl at the counter that I was there for some weed matting. The following conversation ensued.

Her: Yeah we've got some, it's $2.95 per metre

Me: oh. But the website says it's $1.80 per metre

Her: Yeah, that's our internet price. You have to order it online to get it at that price.

Me: So if I go home now and order it online for $1.80 per metre can I pick it up or does it have to be delivered?

Her: No, you can pick it up.

Me: So when I come back to collect it will you cut it from this same roll?

Her: Yeah. That's just our special way of doing it. It's just different, you know.

Me: (acting as though I completly understood) Yeah, I know. Ok. I'll go home and order it and be back in ten minutes.

Her: (looking quite daft) uh, ok, sure.

I don't think she believed that I would do it but I did. I drove the three minutes back home, ordered it and paid for it online and returned to her store with the order in less than ten minutes.

She had seen me pull up and as I walked through the door she was obviously telling her work colleague that I was the woman who had gone home to place an online order. She rolled her eyes as I walked in and handed her a print off of my order. She tsked and then stormed outside and without measuring, cut me what she obviously guessed was five metres of weed matting. She then scrunched it up and practically threw it at me.

I thanked her profusely, being sure to sound completely over the top and appreciative of the fact that she had gone out of her way to help me. She stormed off back into the protective confines of her air conditioned demountable office.

I didn't quite have enough to complete the garden but what I have done looks so much better and almost as though someone actually cares about it. I haven't yet started on the pile of clean washing but I'm thinking it might be just as easy to burn it.

Therapy in Boredom

When people ask me how I am I resist the urge to tell them that I need to win lotto, get a maid, a gardener, a nanny and a therapist. Instead I say that I'm fine, that life is good because it is, if I ignore the fact that I need all the aforementioned things.

Being a working mother is hard as anyone who has to do it can atest to. Lately I've been trying to make time to walk each afternoon with my neighbour. I use that time as therapy and offload all that worries me to her. Tonight however she didn't want to go walking. Her excuse was that she had walked hard today and had spent the entire day engaged in some heavy duty cleaning. I think she may have been sick of me offloading onto her.

I justified my reasoning by reminding myself that she isn't working right now, SHE has all the time in the world to exercise and clean. SHE doesn't even really care about how I feel. SHE is just selfish. I therapied myself and was able to work out that my feelings were born out of jealousy.

Right now I would almost kill for the chance to not have to work. Sure, I might get bored after three years or so but I would make the most of that boredom by reading three billion books. I might even learn how to sew or even make a vegetable garden. It would just be nice to have a pile of washing that at least appeared to become smaller on a daily basis.

It's not going to happen any time soon but never mind. I'm planning on inventing a machine that makes money that looks so real no one would ever know it's not.