The World According To Me

So, one week and one day ago it was my birthday. I turned 28. I had the most awesome day. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Part of the excellence was due to me handing in my resignation. I don't have a job lined up in Adelaide at all. The facts of the matter are that I have basically have three weeks to find a job and a place to live (with the cats - Lucy is going to mum's house) in a city where I am not.

Hello, Universe? It's me, Kymmy. Halp pls.

Awesome.

Righto, so the opportunity for me to have fruit for morning tea each day isn't going to happen, for some reason unknown to me. And I still have a generalised dislike for recruitment agents.

On the upside, I am going here on Saturday and I cannot wait. So excited! This will be the second festival I've been to this year, which makes 2 for my entire lifetime. Yeah, I'm a saddo. Whatevs. I'm going to see the Grates again, and that makes me a happy little clam.

I had a photo I actually did want to post - of my weekend activities when I'm not frolicking around a city I don't yet live in, being a knob;




I made somewhere in the vicinity of 90 of these babies on Sunday - they have pork and coriander and water chestnuts and shitake mushrooms and lots of other things in them and they taste AWESOME. There are about 70 of them in my freezer at this moment, allowing for the Sunday night dinner I provided for a mate.

Next stop: Pork Buns.

Can I just take a moment here to rant a little and possibly offend someone in the process? Yep? We cool? Excellent.

I have never before had any dealings with agents. I've always gotten my jobs (all three of them) via replying to ad an in the paper - employment; kicking it old school. But now things are different and these days, firms who don't use agents aren't usually the ones you want to be employed by. If they're too tight to fork out some commission to get the best staff then they're probably going to cheap out on the bikkies in the tea-room. I'm sure there's a study out there that has created those tenuous links. And biscuit-quality is important to me. So is salary, strangely enough.

So in my quest I have been liaising with some agents to try and get the Massive Life Change underway. The first one I contacted, about 6 weeks ago before I went on my mission, supposedly had the monopoly on the market for my line of work. She's done nothing, so far, except to make promises and then REALLY piss me off by yesterday getting one of her underlings to phone me and tell me she had a fantastic part-time opportunity and would I be interested?

Ummmmm, no. I need to work full time to you know, pay the rent and eat and stuff. "Interesting", she says, "I'll put that in our database. And what area of law are you looking at?". How about the area which covers your principal actually taking notice of what I said in our meeting 2 weeks ago? Or someone reading my cv? Or the one that looks after reading my carefully crafted cover letter? Pffftttt.

An etiquette query - is it okay to tell an agent to shove their database up their jacksie?

It wasn't good timing, yesterday. I am pms-ing like a mofo. It's crazy. I declared to my colleagues yesterday that I simply needed to be quarantined for the next few days. It would be better for everyone that way. How good would it be if there was actually a quarantine for crazy hormonal women? For a few days each month we could be confined to a couch with a doona, multiple family blocks of cadburys and the complete series box set of Scrubs dvd's? Thank me for my ideas later.

I digress. The point I wanted to make was that I have formed a strong dislike for most of the agents I have had dealings with so far. The other point I wanted to make was that I have 3 opportunities in the beginnings stage to effect Massive Life Change and one of them is so exciting I want to wee my pants. 4 clues - 1. Fruit. 2. For. 3. Morning. 4. Tea. ohmigod. (the ohmigod was not a clue. because that would make it 5).

Another, unrelated point was that I had such an awful day yesterday that I came home and opened a bottle of wine. Almost finished it, too. By 8pm. I have re-confirmed with myself that I do not really enjoy drinking alone. But I slept like a baby.

I also got sent some photo's of The Fabulous Night Out Where I Was Looking Hot (see previous post). I laughed so much I actually cried. I was not looking hot at all. I was looking totally cocked. Why were my perceptions so skewed? HILAR. I cannot believe that extra extra tall bloke kissed me. I wouldn't have kissed me.

I know that you and I have a fairly short history - not even twelve months have passed since I first visited. But I have returned to you four more times since then, you are my extended weekend away of choice, we always have so much fun when I visit. Your offerings of bushland and beaches within a reasonable drive from one another, your (mostly) super-friendly citizens, your cbd - friendly to the directionally challenged like me, you know I thought it was just the beginning of something beautiful. Am I rushing you, Radelaide? Are you feeling pressured that I want to take the next step? I know it's a bit of a leap, but I feel ready, I feel this is right. It's right, isn't it?

So how about you come good on the job side of things? The interview I took on Monday was really positive, the feedback I got was all awesome, it was just that tiny little thing about the no knowledge of state-based procedure that the HR lady couldn't get past the 2 practitioners concerned. The HR lady loved me, Radelaide, she wanted me and wants me to know that the door isn't closed as far as me and that firm are concerned. I hope the door isn't shut between me and you.

There's just not a lot more on offer at the moment. Oh I know, I could apply for a more intermediary position and piss it in but I don't want to be financially restricted and not be able to enjoy yours fruits to the fullest. And what fruits they are...remember Friday night, Radelaide? Remember those pills and all those lovely people you introduced me to and me kissing that superbly extra-extra-tall man and dancing like a demon with my new friend and my existing friends until the sun came up? I'm glad you remember, because, truthfully, I am a little hazy. All I know is that it was wonderful.

And I want more. Much, much more.

I'm scared too, Radelaide. I'm scared of it just being me and you and sporadic interaction with the three people I know there, and being lonely. But, really, it would still be much better than here, where I am now. Do you know that the highlight of my weekends at the moment is Iron Chef on Saturday nights? Sad. Not the way for a lass clinging to the last few moments (okay, years) of her twenties to be living her life. No siree.

I know we could make it work, Radelaide. I just know it. I'm ready.

Kymmy
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I'm back to being able to listen to 'Fans' again. I think it was the end-of-weekend blues that I get. Or, more specifically, the have-to-go-back-to-work-tomorrow blues. It happens.

It's my 7-year workiversary today. I've made it. Now I can resign when I choose and know that that pro-rata long service leave payment is in the bag. Sweeeeet.

It's all good.

You know when you need to yawn and stretch at the same time and there's nothing that can stop that high-pitched 'yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee' coming out as well? That just happened to me while I was in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil for my coffee. Just to keep you updated, you know. There's something very lovely about that 'yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee'.

I saw my mum and one of my sisters on Good Friday. My sister, who is 18, very randomly tried to pluck a stray hair from my eyebrow with her fingernails, without warning. After batting her hand away with a 'WTF are you doing, you weirdo?!' she said 'It's sticking right out!', as if that is explanation enough for what I momentarily thought was going to be an unprovoked eye gouge. I conceded that my personal maintenance was askew, declaring 'I'm just so unkempt right now'. I then went to point out to my mum that along with my crazy eyebrows, I had myriad grey hair coming through. I put my hands up to my head and went to part my hair to show her exactly where they were, when she said she had already noticed. ALREADY NOTICED HER 27 YEAR OLD DAUGHTER'S GREY HAIR. WITHOUT ME SHOWING HER. I am having my hair done tonight. I had my waxing done yesterday. Even though I am lucky (according to my friend who is Italian) to have quite fine, light hair in most of the places I don't want it, the difference an eyebrow wax makes to ones' mood is astonishing.

I realise how shit that makes me sound. Nevermind.

It's funny how the impact of a song can change according to ones' mood. I was listening to some Band of Horses earlier, and thinking how horrible it would be if you accidentally put their cd on in the midst of a break-up low. On the other hand, if you were happy and hopeful, the same music would be uplifting and inspiring. See: Jeff Buckley.

Kings of Leon's 'Fans' just came on before. Usually this song makes me happy in my heart and pants, but tonight it only added to my anxious state. I think it's something to do with the momentum of the track, how it rushes and rolls and quickens with the heavy strumming. I love the song but tonight it almost broke my heart. I don't know what's wrong with me. The same things that I usually love about that song tonight made me almost burst into tears.

In exactly one week's time I will have had a job interview. I don't want to put too much emphasis on it but the market is very slow right now, so if I don't come through with the goods then the relocation may be set back awhile. And I don't want that to happen. I've mentally checked out of here, moved on, moved away. Started anew.