*cough*

*cough*
"Why would anyone want to leave here?" asks Mark.
I wonder... it could be the "21st Century Sweatshop" atmosphere, it could be
the politics, it could be the constant complaints from customers and staff
alike, it could be the strict adherence to ridiculous procedures. Or a
combination of all of those...

Wow. What an incredible day yesterday was. Full of laughs and smiles and love and togetherness. Not a mope nor gripe in sight! It was a lovely sunny almost-spring day, and we lay in bed for a couple of hours just to snuggle. We just did stuff and it was great. I couldn't even tell you now exactly what we did, apart from the washing and dinner. Oh, dinner! We made a pizza - gluten free, mind you - and god we did a good job! That was a nice pizza! We got all dressed up for dinner, and had roses and candles and stuff, and it was all beautiful. A fitting end to a beautiful day.

At home feeling like crap. This seems to have happened a lot in the last couple of weeks! Previously it was dizzy spells, today it's a cold. I look kind of like Rudolf - you know, the red nose, the antlers, pulling a sleigh, and so forth. I feel miserable and icky. Aidan's been an absolute angel, of course, he looks after me when I'm ill. He tells me I'm beautiful when I look like Death warmed up. Beautiful is the last thing I feel right now - I feel like if I saw a child they would probably run screaming and telling their mummies they saw the boogieman.

Anyway, forgetting the previous update...

Last night was incredible. Simple dinner, then wine and talking and other stuff by candle light... beautiful.

I just wrote a long and bitter blog, and then deleted it. It made no sense. I just wish I wasn't so thoughtless. I wish I could be unthinkingly selfless. I wish I could heal Aidan the way he needs to be healed. I wish I didn't keep fucking up.

Time now to relate the dizzy happenings of the last week.

Tuesday was fairly bad, stayed home. Wednesday, fine. Thursday, went to work, felt very very very dizzy, and was rescued by an angel. That is, Aidan left his job early to come and get me and bring me home. Friday, still fairly crappy, stayed home.

Fine since then!

And now I'm at home on Aidan's birthday while he's out a Nine Inch Nails. Thanks for the suggestion, "Anonymous" - I've already got sexy underwear. I suspect body paint probably has gluten in it (everything bloody well does, it seems) so I couldn't have it but Aidan could... it's not a bad idea! Where, though? SexyLand? I've never noticed it there. Anyway, it'll have to wait until at least next week... who's bloody stupid idea was it to make women bleed for a whole week out of every month? Ridiculous! And who's even dumber idea was it to make us incredibly horny for that entire week? Anyway, enough griping.

I'm at home and the place is a pigsty. There's something about mess... it reaches a point where you just get depressed at it and cleaning seems like more effort than it's worth, so you just sit and sulk and try to will the dishes to clean themselves and the floor to vacuum itself. That method hasn't worked so far, but that's no reason to stop trying now! (Kind of like tradition - just because something stupid has been done for three hundred years, that's no reason to stop it now!)

I was talking to mum earlier. I've mentioned jokingly that Nathan is my only competition, and I told her Aidan was out with Nathan tonight. Mum's all like, "Are you alright with that?" as if I'm honestly worried! I laughed and said "Of course!" Now I don't think poor mum knows what to think! Anyway she called to say happy birthday to Aidan, so I have to remember to pass on the message when he gets home even though it probably won't be his birthday by the time he gets back.

Sometimes I feel so useless, so pointless. I don't even know how to express what I mean. It's like, I want to be something special to Aidan, to do special things for him and make him feel special. So when he told me that the only thing that ever made him feel attractive was being hit on by gay guys, I wondered why the fuck did I bother trying for so long to achieve that very effect? I felt I'd failed and been superceded. Then there's birthdays - he says he's never really had a good, fun, enjoyable birthday. So I want to give him one, I want to do something really special. But instead that will be done by Nathan and Nine Inch Nails. What am I here for? Am I not good enough? Can I never do enough, that everything I want to do is outdone? Then there's last night... "I'll be home late," he says, fair enough, that's fine. I look forward to him getting back and snuggling and all that... but it seems now that late last night has become after work this afternoon, he never came home. He went out for a pub crawl. Well, that sounds like fun. Certainly more fun than coming home to his miserable sick fiance. Fair enough. Such an angel he was yesterday, leaving work to come and get me and take me home when I couldn't walk alone, looking after me... how dare I expect him to sacrifice his highly enjoyable evening/night/morning for me as well? I'm so fucking selfish. And useless.

I'm at home today, took a sickie. Got dizzy spells every time I move my head. It's an odd day. I keep starting to cry and I don't know why. Sure, I feel like crud, but it's not that. Just little things - a sad scene on a DVD, or a silly memory from years ago. However I also feel very restful today, which is great. I'm relaxed, which is unusual for a weekday. I think I needed a day off - being ill has it's good points!

There's a man who sits outside the Catholic Bookshop on Lonsdale Street
every day. He is homeless, thin, unkept, and must lead a miserable
existance. I can't help but wonder how he came to be there. Surely at some
point in his life he had a home, a family, a job of some sort? What sad and
destructive path must a man follow to lose all he has, and end up on
Lonsdale Street with a backpack and a handful of other people's spare
change? I often think of stopping to talk to him - to find out, to make him
feel like someone cares, to take him out for lunch! But something stops me.
I gave him money once and told him to have a good day. Then I realised what
a hollow and pointless thing that was to say. But it was too late, I had
already turned the corner, he was out of sight.

*smirk*

I bought Aidan a bunch of flowers yesterday, and took them to his work
during my lunch break. Nothing expensive or flashy, just a nice colourful
bunch of orchids... but gosh, what a reaction! He was over the moon! I only
did it on the spur of the moment, on a whim, and I'm so glad I did! I love
making him feel all cute and loved and stuff. So gorgeous!

In the course of my duties at work (believe it or not) I have come across a website called Not Good Enough. Goodness me! I've always known that the human race complains more than anybody or anything in the history of history itself, but that's just pathetic.

Stuff

One thing that gets to me about Post is the petty adherence to ridiculous
processes and procedures.

One thing that gets to me about Aidan is how easy he can be to take
advantage of. I worry for him.

One thing that gets to me about Melbourne is the miserable people.

One thing that gets to me about myself is my eternally itchy nose.

One thing that gets to me about now is that it's still 2 months until I can
quit Post.

One thing that gets to me about life is it's inevitability.

Problem Identification

I've worked in the same field for so long that my mind has narrowed. I am no
longer open to all possibilities. When considering future careers, all I can
think of is call centres or bookshops.

When I was a child I dreamt of being a singer, an actor, a marine biologist,
and everything in between! Now my dreams are dead.

I hope that a nice long break and a trip overseas will re-open my mind, and
allow me to see all options and paths. When money is no longer something
that needs to be saved, maybe I can study a little, muck around with
different jobs, whatever...

Spoons in Popular Culture

"There is no spoon." - The Matrix
"I found a spoon." - Terry Pratchett's Reaper Man
The Tick

(to be continued... any suggestions, leave me a comment!)

You wouldn't think that a parcel could just vanish. But they do, on a
regular basis. An item with a barcode might be scanned at the correct
Delivery Centre on the correct date - but then it disappears! Addressee
denies receipt, it's not at the Post Office, it's not in the Dead Letter
Office! Gone! Where?

Oh God No...

I've been at work for 40 minutes, and already I'm bored and apathetic.
Already there have been debates over policies and procedures and petty
politics. Already I want to go home. I keep reminding myself that I only
have to be here for another 2 months, that's 8 weeks, but that's 2 months
too long.

Where am I living?

I feel like I'm in America! In the last few weeks there have been bomb
scares at Werribee Plaza and Southland Shopping Centre, and today there's
been an "alleged" shooting out the back of the Reservoir Post Office. Nobody
seems to know anything about it, though...

As of today, Aidan and I have been together for exactly one year. There have, of course, been ups and downs, but on the whole it's been incredible.

How can I even begin to describe the last twelve months? It's been a blur of romance, intensity, and happiness, with the occasional minor irritation or misunderstanding thrown in. On those occasions, we assume the Fighting Position - holding each other as tightly as possible, crying on each other's shoulders.

I have grown up so much in the last year, and changed for the better. I've wanted so badly to become a better person, to deserve Aidan. I think perhaps I'm getting there, albeit slowly. We have both been through a lot in life, and although the scars are not physical, I think we have begun to heal each other's souls.

Aidan, I want to thank you for... everything. Being there for me, letting me be there for you, understanding, loving, and accepting. I love you with all my heart and soul, and will always do so.

Well, yesterday was improved, however unlikely this may seem, by watching Spiderman and Spiderman 2 back-to-back, and then I was in a good mood when Aidan got home! We went "shopping" (yes, SexyLand and some other adult shop in Braeside), went out to a Thai place for dinner... happy night!

I don't like tonight. Aidan's at a Seether concert, I'm home by myself. I'm bored, lonely, and I have a headache. This place is a mess, and instead of cleaning it up I'm wallowing in it, and in my own self-pity. I am fully aware that if I clean up tonight, I'll have shit all to do tomorrow while Aidan's at work. And on Sunday while Aidan's at work. What kind of weekend do you call this? "I'll put off cleaning so I won't be too bored later." As if it's some kind of treat I'm saving up for when I really deserve it. God my head is killing me. It has been all afternoon. I wish it wasn't too early for sleep. I tried to make bread again tonight, but despite being in the oven at 200 degrees for almost an hour it just stayed doughey and yuck. In the end I lost my temper and threw it in the bin. One more failed bread attempt. I've been weirdly moody tonight, talking and yelling to myself, throwing things around, crying, and so forth. I'm ok now, more sedate, although still down. My head feels like a tetanus injection. The same on-going ache that just won't go away no matter what I do. I just want to scream at it, "FUCK OFF!!!" but I know it's useless. I mean the pain, not my actual head. My head is sort of useful at times and I'd rather it didn't fuck off. I think I've decided to abolish paragraphs. Or maybe I just didn't bother putting any in.