Weeds and Woes


I’m awake. Which would be fine at a reasonable hour, but it’s 2:45am, and I’ve already been awake a while at this point. Why am I awake, you ask? Well, for two reasons; gardening, and finances.

Moving house is a time consuming and expensive process. It is even more expensive when you’re breaking a lease. As some of you may know, I moved six months ago to a new town for a job. Things were looking up; I had money saved, I made new friends, I was finally out on my own again. Then it all pretty much went south. I no longer have that job, but for a while I was managing fine. Until five months passed, and still no one would employ me full time. Which brings me to November.

Finally, I had to concede. I emailed the real estate to inform them that I regrettably have to break my lease. I said it was due to a ‘change in circumstances’, which is a polite way of saying I am broke. I’ve hired a storage shed for my stuff (cost) and started to move it over. The constant back and forth travel between the two towns requires having to refuel my car weekly (cost). I had to pay an advertising fee (cost), and will have to pay an additional cost of one week’s rent, plus what the real estate called a pro rata fee (whatever that is) that can only be calculated once the new tenant moves in. Then there’s going to be the truck hire to move, and fuelling it up on return (cost, cost). So with all of this piling up, plus my usual expenses (car repayment, bills, food etc), you can understand why I’m awake at an ungodly hour.

And then comes the second part of the equation; gardening. I’m not an outdoorsy person. I don’t have a passion for gardening, and in the three houses I’ve rented away from home, I’ve pretty much never set foot in any of the respective backyards. But this time that’s coming back to bite me. As normal when you leave a rental property, you are required to leave it in much the same state as when you moved in. This includes the gardens. When I moved into this house, I mowed lawns for the first time in my life. That part, not so much the problem. But the garden beds (or weed beds, is perhaps more accurate) are a whole different beast altogether.

Annoyingly, my temporary town has the right combo of sunshine and rain. The result, of course, is a wild, knee high jungle of various grasses, and weeds, and little stabby plants that leave barbs stuck in my fingers, despite wearing gloves. Every week since giving my notice, I’ve been pulling up weeds and trying to make the place more presentable, but that shit is hard. Especially when I’m going up against Mother Nature herself! I’ve made progress over the last week, and whilst it certainly looks better than it did, the yards still look untidy. My mum is coming to stay next weekend so she can help, but I’m still stressed about it, partly because people are starting to inspect the property next week and the pressure is on.

Above image is the property of Leigh Rubin

I’m sure this all sounds very boring to you and frankly, it does to me too. But since I’m awake and all, I figured I’d vent it out anyway. *sigh*. Financial woes, and weeds. This is what my life has come to. And I gotta say, if this is what being an adult is all about, I quit!

Random Life Update

I signed a rental lease yesterday, and today began the preparations for the pending move, which is in about three weeks. I sent off my first rent payment, and the bond. I am arranging to have my storage shed lease cancelled, I organised to have the electricity set up at the new house effective from my move in date, and now the only other things I need to do are make sure the gas gets connected, and cancel my gym membership…which has gone unused for at least the last two months. So, all in all, today I have been a real adult.

My new job is still going really well. I feel a little overwhelmed, and there have been more than a few times in the last two weeks where I feel like I’m not absorbing the information as fast or as well as I should be. It’s quite a complicated job, but I am hoping that I can keep barrelling on and do my best to stay ahead of the curve. Or at the very least, on par. However all those things aside, I’m really glad that I took the chance on the application and that I have come this far in the process. What makes the job even better are the people in my training group.

I’ve said before that I am not particularly good at making new friends. For a myriad of reasons, new friends and I don’t usually seem to stick. My work family are just a really rad bunch of people. There is a lot of laughter in that little training room, a lot of support, and daily shares of puppy photos. We have all fallen into a comfortable friendship in the last couple of weeks, and I feel really lucky to be in that group.

I’m in a very positive mindset at the moment, and I’m excited for the new changes and possibilities coming my way. It makes a nice change, that’s for damn sure! I’m going to leave you with a photo of the view I get to see every night on my drive home. It amazes me every time, just how far the distance stretches, and it makes me realise just how very small we really are.

Mt. Franklin view 4/4/18

I Hate It Here

I’m not usually a ‘blog every day’ kind of girl. I don’t think I’m that interesting for a start, but also I really don’t often have something to talk about every day. But lately I’ve been blogging a lot more frequently. This has to do with two things; I rarely have anything to do at work in the mornings and so I need something to fill my time, and I need to keep my mind occupied so I don’t focus too much on the negative things that are swirling around me at the moment. I am trying very, very hard to keep on top of it all, and to stay positive and try and not let the bad stuff bring me down, but it’s not easy. Plus, I made a promise to myself to write 200 words per day, and even if it may not be for my current writing project, it has to be for something. And thus, lots of blog posts.

So, I was going to actually write about this yesterday, but my thoughts about Bourke St seemed more appropriate at the time. I started thinking about this post as I was driving to work yesterday. It wasn’t a particularly warm day, despite the fact that we’re coming up on the hottest month of the year, and the sky to the north of my house (in the direction of the city) was dark and moody, with the tease of a storm in the air. As I drove towards those imposing clouds, the contrast of the sun at my back seeming to turn them a darker shade of gloom, all I could think was that I wanted to chase them. And there was a part of me that would have done so, if it weren’t for my sense of responsibility urging me towards my place of employment instead of in the direction of the storm I so desperately long for. (which ultimately died away before it got much more interesting than light showers anyway). All I wanted, all I want is to drive away from this city and never come back.

It’s been just shy of five months since I moved. Hardly a long term commitment to city living. But already, I’m itching to leave. In the words of my eternal hero, Spider Jerusalem; I hate it here.

Image result for spider jerusalem I hate it here

It’s a lot of things that contribute to this all consuming hatred for my current way of living. I miss living on my own, I miss not having to commute for an hour to get to work, I miss having a job that didn’t make me miserable. And it seems ever since moving to this shop, things have been going wrong and getting progressively worse, to the point where I doubt every single day, my ability to do my job. There is a possible opportunity for advancement within my job in the coming months. An opportunity that has the potential to get me set up for a good long while. But the more I think about it, the more I realise that I’m not sure I want it. Yes, it would be a good opportunity for me, and yes I could say that I had achieved something big at the age of 24. But the crushing anxiety and doubt may just be too much for me to handle. And I know that doesn’t exactly sound like it fits in with my whole positive vibe, but the flipside is that my mental and emotional health is going to be at rock bottom if I continue like this, and I firmly believe that my health and happiness is more important than any amount of money.

Though I still don’t think leaving my home town was the wrong move, I think the place I moved was the wrong place. I come from a big country town/city, and it seems all the things I grew to hate about it in the year or so before I moved, are now the things that I once again long for. Go figure. The problem is, to return to that town would be inevitably taking a step back, and that’s not the direction I want to go. I want to keep moving forward. And so last night, I did a thing. After day long consideration, I applied for a job in another state. It would be a huge move so soon after my first big move, but I figure what the hell? I’m not going to stress about it, I’m just going to wait and see what happens. If I hear back, then I can take it as a sign that it was a good decision. If I don’t hear back, it just means that it wasn’t the right opportunity, or the right time. I haven’t had much luck making my own decisions recently, so I’m going to leave it in the hands of fate. As my best friend often tells me; the universe provides.

Whatever happens now, all I know is that this isn’t what I want, and it isn’t where I am meant to be. And I’m tired of being unhappy with the live I lead. I want to experience things, and I want adventure, and I want to live. No more of this stagnant, boring existence. I told myself things were going to change, and this time I’m not going to let myself be held back, by myself, or anyone/anything else. This is my time.

Tiny Positivity in an Otherwise Miserable Fortnight

My life is in the midst of falling spectacularly to pieces. I haven’t even been living in the city for a month, and already I’m missing home. And you know things are bad when I actually miss the town that had me feeling so stunted and stuck. I can’t work out if it’s just the adjustment period, or the bad headspace, or if it’s the combination of all the little things that have built up and turned into something so much bigger. Perhaps all of these things together attribute to this mess of mine.

It’s been a bad couple of weeks. I’ve been waking up every day to a wretched combination of existential dread, and depression, and it makes getting out of bed exponentially harder. I can’t shake it, so instead I have to go to work and feign normality and if not outright happiness, then at least some modicum of mild contentment. This week they finally got me into my new shop, which should have been awesome. But after a few days of drama, unnecessarily irate customers, the worst set up in the history of shop openings, and technical difficulties that make my job incredibly complicated and inconvenient, I can’t say it’s been a super thrilling ride thus far. The plus side is that the shop is new, I’m working on my own, and I can set it up how I like. The downside is that a franchisee if buying it in November, which means all my hard work is for the benefit of someone else. And to make matters worse, I just got out of the creepy, poorly organised shop that messes with my head and had me in tears last week, only to be told that when the franchisee takes over, they’ll put me back there six days a week. My increasingly fragile mental state might not be able to take it.

And then there’s those technical difficulties I mentioned. In addition to the troubles at work, a couple of weeks ago my laptop decided to stop cooperating. The dreaded black screen of death reared it’s ugly head, and I’m left with a laptop full of writing that I can’t access. It’s frustrating, especially for a creative person like me, who relies on being able to create to keep herself sane. My best friend/hero/emotional saviour is sending me a laptop to keep me going, so I have that to look forward to. I just have to work out a way to extract my hard drive from my poor defeated Atticus so that I can salvage my work. And if that wasn’t enough, yesterday my phone died with the same problem. With no explanation, it simply refused to turn on past a blank screen. So there goes all my photos, recordings, messages and phone numbers. I spent a larger portion of yesterday trying to set up a new phone but the inconvenience was certainly enough to make me throw my hands up in frustration.

In amongst all of this is trying to navigate the city (I’ve been lost a lot), working out how to happily live with someone else, trying to organise my one day off into some small measure of productivity and the underlying anxiety about uprooting my entire life for the possibility of something better that had, thus far, been very far from my expectation.

But despite all this, there is some light ahead. I woke up today and for the first time in two weeks, I didn’t feel like burying my head under the covers and hiding forever. The sun is out and there’s a real feel of spring in the air today. A hint of positivity peeked out from where it had been hiding and I am ready to tackle this day, and anything that comes with it. I’m hoping that this is the start of an upward curve. No pressure, Little Positivity. You just get me through today and I’ll be content.

Big City Living

So, I’ve been living in the city for a week. Ok, it’s been five days, but close enough. Things are a lot different here. There are so many people, and so much traffic and so much noise. I think this city living thing is going to take a bit of getting used to.

When I lived in my home town, I was living in a house two streets over from the shopping plaza that I worked at. It was a fifteen minute walk, or a five minute drive and that was it. I was able to leisurely meander through my morning and leave for work shortly before I was due to start. In the city, things are different. I started back at work again on Thursday, after a week long transitional period. I am set to be running my own shop in a week or so, but in the meantime they have me working in another shop temporarily.

I haven’t managed to work out the train system yet, so for the last two days, I have driven to work. In peak hour traffic, along a freeway and then through the city, the drive takes me anywhere between 40-50 minutes. I’m surprisingly pretty calm about the whole thing. As someone who has a tendency to feel anxious in unfamiliar situations, I’ve handled the multiple lanes and congestion rather well. And aside from one small navigational mishap on the first day – courtesy of my stupid phone –  I’ve managed to get at least a little familiar with the route over the last couple of days. Though I’m hoping that yesterday will be the last time I have to drive.

With my old boss, pay day was Monday. I’m hoping desperately that this week I will get my annual leave paid out, because after paying $19 for parking for the last two days, I officially have no money left. Wait, that’s a lie. I have a grand total of 37 cents in my saving account, but other than that, I am flat broke. This in itself is the most stressful thing about moving to the city. The people and the noise and the dingy little shop I’m temporarily working in are all things I can deal with. The money thing though, that’s a different story. You never really tend to pay attention to the money you spend until your funds are tight and you’re not sure when your next pay will be. I’ve been stretching the remaining funds on my ‘for emergencies’ credit card to the absolute limit this week to try and make it last long enough, but now that it’s maxed out, the little seed of anxiety in my brain has grown into a full blown tree, soon to become a forest of nerves and stress.

As for the actual move, well that went smoothly enough. It was the organising and tidying and setting up that took me nearly three days. I originally just threw everything into the bedroom that I have been given, so when I arrived on Monday, I began the long and tedious process of arranging everything into something liveable. I moved things and shuffled items around, unpacked, put away, dropped a side table on my foot (curse words ensued) and slowly but surely made my way through the haphazard mess. The books and dvds were arranged, the bedroom set up, clothes washed. I finally began to feel like the unit that my friend and I are renting was actually my home. As much as an unfamiliar place in a new city can feel like home after just a couple of days, anyway.


The final thing now, is finding somewhere I can create. With no sewing room in the unit, I had to compromise, and set the table up in the kitchen. Unfortunately, due to an apparent lack of power points in the house, the only way I can do any sewing at the table is to run a power board through an extension lead from the power point in the laundry…and hope than neither my housemate or myself will trip over and get ourselves killed. It’s not ideal. But as I’ve said before, if I don’t create, I get a little antsy. It’s better for everyone involved if I am able to spend some time lost in my own crafty little world. Though given the fact that I will apparently be working six days a week, every week, until the end of time, I don’t know that I will have even a spare second. Time will tell. Regardless, I am here, and I am reasonably settled, and I am committed. So, Big City, let’s see what you’ve got.

Oh, What a Week!

I am never. Moving. Again. And by that I mean I am never moving house again, and also never moving my body again. After a full on couple of weeks, this last seven days in particular, I think I need a ten year sleep. Christ. Between moving house, and flying to and from Mackay for my sister’s wedding, I am thoroughly done.

The wedding weekend started off on a bad note, with a text message at 12:15 the morning we were supposed to fly out, informing me that our flight had been cancelled. When I managed to get that sorted, I discovered we were on a later flight, which essentially cut out the day. We arrived late in the afternoon, waited around a bit for an escort to where we needed to be, and then got to my sister’s house.

The last few days involved a lot of rushing around and stressing, in large part from the women in my family. This one was stressed because that one was stressed, and so the whole household was tense. I cooked dinner for 12 in between helping my grandmother with some salad prep and trying to keep everyone calm, especially my sister, who was a ball of stress and apology. I just have to give credit to her maid of honour, who was a big part of the reason why everything went as smoothly as it did, with her no-nonsense organisation skills and vaguely motherly command.

The wedding itself was short and simple, and then everyone was able to relax and drink and dance and enjoy the day. I sang a song, I made a friend (I know, I was just as surprised as you are!), I got mad at people touching my hair, and then the weekend was done and dad and I were on our way back to cold, wonderful Victoria. But things weren’t quite over for me yet.

Today I drove down to the city, to my new home. For the first time, it kind of hit me that I officially don’t live in my home town anymore. With only the remaining drama with my previous house left to really tie me to the town (a blog for another time), I have made the move. Today was largely spent unboxing, organising, unintentionally injuring myself, and the resigned sighs that came with realising I can’t hang curtains in my bedroom…at least not yet. I just have to hope that no creepy perverts live near us with a penchant for peering in uncovered windows. I’m in a position now where I have a billion things to arrange and sort out, and no more energy to worry about it. So for now, I’m giving up. I’m going to hunt down some food, sit on the couch and do absolutely nothing for the rest of the night. Solid plan, no?

Packing and Glitter

Just for a change, my life is currently very busy and somewhat stressful. Amidst preparing to move, trying desperately to get my affairs in order and still working full time, I’m glitterifying shoes for my sister’s wedding, organising my entire life into a series of boxes and trying really hard to hold my tongue.

The biggest thing in my life right now is the move. I’ve seen the unit my friend has already moved into, and the room I will take over when I get there officially after my sister’s wedding next weekend. It’s small, which isn’t a problem in itself. I’ve lived in small before. But I think it’s going to be too small for my bed and drawers, and that might pose a problem. Otherwise, the place is tidy enough…albeit entirely too close to other people for my liking, but what’s a misanthrope to do?

The actual move, I suspect, is going to be a nightmare. Between a three tonne truck, my little Yaris and my brother’s panel van, we’re gonna do it all in one big hit…and somehow have to move everything up a long and narrow driveway to the unit. Both my dad and I can be quote belligerent, so it will be up to my easygoing brother to keep us chill. I have to admit, I’m kind of already dreading it! Plus, as I found out with my last move, when one is a collector of books and various other smaller items, one discovers just how time consuming those items can be to pack and move, and then unpack and set out.

And then there’s the wedding. We fly out next Friday, come home on the Sunday. The shoes, fortunately, are now out of the way…and I think I’ll be finding blue glitter for months to come. My own fault. I knew I had to get blue shoes for the wedding, but kept putting it off until it was too late. My solution was to buy plain heels and cover them with so much glitter I could give a drag queen a run for her money. But I also have to find a way to get the backing track for the song I’ll be singing on a usb or a cd, so my sister and her soon to be husband can have their first dance. Plus, with all my clothes about to be packed away and sent to the city, I’m going to be living out of a suitcase for the next week. Great timing, universe.


Add all of this to the fact that I still have no idea where I’ll be working once I get to the city (I have a job, I’m just not sure what store they’re putting me in) and the stress of having limited funds to do any of these things that, unfortunately, require having funds, and I think it’s safe to say that I’ll be glad when I’m settled in the new place and properly organised.

Anyway. Back to the packing, I suppose!

On Moving and Living Alone

Well, it happened. I am officially a big girl. I own a car, have a steady job, and as of the weekend, I live on my own.


My brother and I spent the entire weekend moving what I genuinely believed wasn’t a lot of stuff. I mean, I’ve been living in one bedroom for so long, how could I possibly have accumulated that much stuff, right? Wrong. Between the big items like the bed, the chest of drawers and the couch, there was the DVD collection and the multitudes of books I’ve collected since I was first able to buy them. The kitchen items, my sewing machine and fabric upon fabric upon…

The point is that I moved. It took us two days, and I still have at least half my books to transport, but I’m out of home. Naturally, the first thing I did was cleanse the house. The person living in the house before me was a male, and it was important to clear out any negative energies, or residual male energies left over from the previous tenant. Once that was done, I started making myself familiar with the building, and getting myself settled.

My plan of attack is to take it one room at a time, so of course I started with the bedroom. I set it all up, slowly arranged and organised and last night, had a place to sleep that was familiar and comforting. Admittedly, I had the worst night sleep I’ve had in a long while but at least I had somewhere to lay awake, warm and comfortable while I stared at the dark ceiling and listened to the house creak and groan. It’s important to become familiar with the noises your house makes, so you can distinguish between normal house noises and potential spirit activity. Seriously, it’s a thing.

Today, the nice delivery gentlemen will bring me my fridge and I’ll continue my organisation of the rest of the house. I can’t wait to start sewing up a storm for my new fledgling business venture (more on that later) and using my lack of television to my advantage, by doing the creative things I’ve been putting off.

After the moving and the mishaps, the running back and forth, the losing and then finding items and the multitudes of small injuries, I am tired and sore. Moving hurts and I’m thankful that I signed the lease for 12 months, so I don’t have to move again soon. In any case, I have a feeling this is going to be a very interesting year.

Positive Thinking, Who’d Have Thought?

I’m not what you would consider a positive person. I often don’t look on the bright side of things, and angry is pretty much my default setting. However yesterday, I discovered the power of positive thinking.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I’m planning to move out of home. For the last two weeks, I have been applying for houses. About ten or eleven in total. The first one I looked at was a mess. Cupboard door hanging off, dingy kitchen, unkempt and untidy. I didn’t bother with an application. The second house I looked at was…perfect. As soon as I saw it on the website, I fell in love.

When I went to inspect the house, I fell more in love. It’s teeny tiny, and utterly adorable. Two bedrooms, a little ensuite, an open plan kitchen/lounge area and no grass to mow; it’s perfect for little old me. I submitted an application the next day, and eagerly awaited a phone call.

The thing is, from the moment I set foot inside the house, I knew it was meant to be mine. Something about it felt right to me, and I spent the next week waiting for the call that I knew was going to come. How could it not? The house felt right to me and I felt positive that I was going to get it. The more I thought about it, the more I became convinced. Actually, I got a little obsessed, and drove past it at every opportunity.

I told people the house was going to be mine. I told myself the house was going to be mine. I had a freakin’ dream that it was going to be mine. The more I put it out there, the more it felt true. And, after a week of waiting half anxiously and half confidently, yesterday I got a phone call, and the cheerful real estate agent on the other end of the line was genuinely happy to tell me that I had (of course) gotten the house. Yay! So in the last month I made the decision to move, applied for houses and got approved. All that is left to do now is wait for the current tenant to move, and then I’ll get to live in the literal house of my dreams!

When it comes to ‘new age’ beliefs, there’s a lot of crap floating around, but there are a few I hold in high stead. Regularly cleanse negative energies from your home and person. A healthy body helps maintain a healthy mind. And, after this week, my new favourite is trust the power of positive thinking. As my best friend often tells me, the universe always provides.

Aw, just look at those cheerful little lightbulbs.

Moving On, Moving Out

I have decided to be an adult. Not permanently, I’m not a crazy person. But for long enough to do the big girl thing and move out on my own. I am 22 years old and I live with my dad in the same house I have lived in for twenty years. Twenty. Years. I feel that people only talk about time in terms of decades when they’re, y’know…old. And yet here I am, young and very definitely not adultlike, discussing my time spent living under a parent’s roof in that very same manner. And I’ve decided that it’s time to change. I want to be able to talk about my living arrangements in terms of months, goddamnit.

I’m the second oldest of four kids, and the last still living at home. My older sister moved away years ago, and now has two kids and a wedding date set for next year. My second youngest brother moved out a couple of years ago with friends and is a qualified boilermaker. My youngest brother still lives with mum admittedly, and after much procrastination and laziness, now has a steady job and a beard. And then there’s me. I work four days a week, try and fail to keep up with my creative pursuits on the other three days, and have never lived alone.

My dad was away a couple of days last week, and I enjoyed having the house to myself. A lot. And so I got to thinking about doing that all the time and thus, the decision to move out was made. I put a fridge on layby. I arranged with a friend to temporarily borrow his couch. I started looking at houses. I’ve been imagining how I would set it up. I even had dreams about it! Now all I need is a bit more cash behind me and an approved rental application, and you’ll be looking at a proper renter.

I think what I’m looking forward to is the space. I want to set up my sewing somewhere where I can leave it. A place to sew at 11:30 at night, without having to worry I’ll wake someone. I’m looking forward to cooking what I want. Watching what I want. Playing my own kind of music without annoying someone. I’m looking forward to walking around naked.

A few people have been pretty negative about it. I understand that it’s not going to be all fun and bubbles. I know it’s going to be more expensive. I know that there are going to be times when I wish I was still living at home. But I also know that now is exactly the right time. It feels right to me, and I’m always one for following my instincts.

So here’s to doing my own thing, to being (temporarily) an adult. Here’s to walking around naked!

Aw yeah.