Working Hard for the Money…Then Giving It All Away.

I need to win the lottery. Or invent some incredible new thing that makes me billions of dollars. Or become a ridiculously famous author. Or a stripper. Whichever of these options that makes me the most money, I choose that one.

Here’s the thing. I’m not really driven by money. Even though I know it’s essential to live, I’m not chasing dreams of high powered corporate jobs, or having high aspirations in any given career. I just want to create, and travel and meet interesting people, do new things and collect experiences rather than material possessions. The problem is, unfortunately due to life and adulthood being a major inconvenience, I need money.

I just got paid and sat down to work out my outgoing expenses for the week. After my rent, my weekly car repayment, the usual small deposit in my savings (which is actually for bills etc) and on my credit card, and the money I’ve set aside to see the dentist tomorrow (*eeeep*) I have $150 left. One hundred and fifty dollars with which to buy food, essential items – don’t you find that all the important stuff runs out at once – put fuel in my car, buy a Mother’s Day gift or flowers or something for my mum and allow myself the daily chai latte that gets me through my mornings at work. It looks like I’ll be eating a lot of Mi Goreng this week.

I know that there are others far worse off than me, and that the fact that I have a regular income means I’ll never really be too deep in hot water. But I live alone and pay everything by myself and sometimes I would just like to go through a week without having to count every dollar that I spend. In one hand and out the other, isn’t that what they say? Well, I better find a solution soon, or that stripper idea might start to seem really appealing. And anyone who has seen me dance will know just how bad an idea that really is.

I Hate my Job and the Universe is a Jerk

I hate my job. I work in a kiosk in a busy shopping centre, where it is always loud, busy, full on and stressful. I can’t make a cup of tea – or ten. I can’t relax. I deal with misogynistic jerks on a weekly basis. I feel incompetent most of the time. And most of all, I have no passion for it. And that, I think, is the thing I hate the most.

For the past couple of months, I have been applying for jobs in my home town. Anything, everything that came up that was part time or full time, because a casual job just isn’t enough to pay my rent and my car loan; the two biggest and most important financial responsibilities in my life currently. I got rejection letters aplenty, and otherwise, silence. So I started applying for jobs in the city.

I have been borrowing my friend’s internet any time I can to apply for any jobs I found that fit the criteria I was looking for. All I got was more of the same. I was getting desperate. And then yesterday, I got a phone call from a place I had applied for last week. A menswear shop in the city, full time on a five month contract. I have an interview next Tuesday.

And then today, after my workmate quit, my boss came to me and handed me a letter of offer. I’ve been working casual for over a year, and he offered me a full time position. So now I have this dilemma. Do I hold off until the interview, or do I say yes now? Well of course, I’m going to take the job. Because despite how much it makes me miserable, it’s the best offer on the table. Full time, in my current town, in a job I mostly know how to do. The universe has a way of forcing you in the direction it wants you to go. My decision was already made before I had a chance to make it.

So props to you, Universe, you sneaky sonofabitch. I guess one of us here has to be the adult, and since I’m no good at playing that part, I suppose it’s good to have someone in my corner. Even if that means staying at a job that causes me undue stress for financial stability and some modicum of security. *sigh*

Long Lock Lamentations

I’m not a girly girl. I don’t like pink, I’m not overly fussed with makeup, I’m more likely to wear shorts and band tees than dresses and I’d rather watch a horror film than suffer through a chick flick. But one of the few things I’m girly about is my hair.

Indecisive and impatient to a fault, I cut my hair periodically and have never grown it much past my bra strap. Usually it gets to my shoulders and I hack it all short again. Of course I immediately regret my decision and plan to grow it again, until it reaches that same shoulder length and then I cut it and grow it and cut it and grow it and…the point is, though I have always dreamed about it, I have never had long hair. The last time I hacked it all short was November, 2012. I haven’t cut my hair since, except for a trim every six weeks or so. Despite wanting to cut it, and being frustrated by how slowly it grows, I have refrained from my urges and my hair is once again at bra strap length. This is a milestone for me, ans every compliment I receive makes me thankful I’ve stuck to my decision.

Not long after hacked it off.

But with long hair comes it’s own set of problems. Things like;
1. You find hair EVERYWHERE. With the amount of hair that I shed, I should be bald. The bathroom floor is covered with it, it clogs plug holes and gets caught on everything. I won’t lie, I’ve even found hair in my butt crack after showering. It’s a serious problem.
2. That shit tickles. I’m constantly searching for phantom hairs that have been lightly brushing my face or arms. Plus, I usually panic, thinking a spider is crawling on me and have to pull kung fu movements to attack said imaginary spider, only to find that my adversary is in fact my own hair.
3. It’s hot. With summer in fill swing, I want to cut my hair now more than ever. With so much hair, that gets progressively heavier as it grows, I get even more overheated and sweaty. Honestly, it’s like wearing a jumper on my head.
4. It gets in the way. I drive with the windows up because otherwise, I get blinded by my own hair. It falls in my face when I read, flops in my eyes when I lie down, pokes me in the eyeballs when I’m watching a movie. It’s downright irritating!
5. Headaches. Having to wear my hair up so often for various reasons, I develop headaches. Even when I tie my hair loosely, it’s not uncommon for me to have to deal with increasingly achy pain in my head region, all due to having long hair.

It’s a tough life, being a girl with long hair. Some days I love it, other days I want nothing more than to shave completely bald. For now, I shall remain steadfast in my decision to grow my hair, and just deal with all the countless issues that come with it. The things we do in the name of vanity. No wonder girls are crazy!

Progress, yo.