Rainy Night Thoughts

It’s 10:30pm. I have my window open so I can hear the sound of the rain, and I kind of wish I could stay like this forever.

I love the rain. The smell, the sound, the taste. There’s something so soothing about it, and it fills me with a sense of calm and absolute contentment. Life has been a bit shit lately, so it’s nice to just lay here in the dark and enjoy one of my favourite things.

There was a huntsman in the lounge room earlier. He only had seven legs, but the span of those legs would have been the size of my palm. He was very active, moving from this corner of the room to that one. He came down the wall once, but I tapped the wall beside the couch and he scurried back up to the ceiling, much quicker than I expected. I’m not scared of him, but I would much prefer that he doesn’t decide to camp in my bedroom tonight. The rain brought him inside, as it often does, and I don’t mind giving the furry little big guy a warm, dry home for the night.

It’s nights like this I wish I didn’t have to get up and go to work in the morning. I’ve recently gone from two to four days a week between two stores. I know it was the right decision, as much as I wasn’t happy about having to make it. But that still doesn’t make it easier to get up and go to work! It always seems to rain when I’m stuck inside at work, instead of at home. Tonight is an exception, and one I’m very happy about.

Sometimes I wish I could just live in a little stormy bubble. It might sound depressing to some, but I’ve always been one to chase the rain.

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Misc – A Collection of Thoughts From an Overactive Mind

I have a lot of things going on inside my head that I want to write about. I want to talk about the pen in my hair, and why that is important. I want to talk about the rain, and the things I would prefer to be doing on a rainy day than working. I want to talk about why my gay friend is starting to grate on my nerves. I want to talk about conquering fears, and achieving small goals. But none of these things really flow together as part of one blog. It’s not one topic to discuss, it’s many, and there is no way to segue from one to the other seamlessly. So, I’m afraid this post may be a touch rambling, but let’s just call it Misc.

First of all, the pen. I have a pen in my hair every day at work, because I often need to write things down, and it’s easier to carry one on my person than to have to hunt around for one whenever I have cause to use it. The pen remains in my hair while it is necessary, and I have a tendency to keep it there, even when it is no longer of any particular use to me. Now, I tend to go for walks at night, because it’s cooler, and it’s the only time I have, and I feel more comfortable getting all hot and sweaty under the cover of darkness. (so vanity is my sin, whatever). However, if the rumours are true, walking alone at night with headphones in is a dangerous habit for a young woman to have. And this is where the pen comes in. It is illegal to carry concealed weapons, so I cannot walk around with a pocket knife, or a bludgeoning tool, or mace. So instead, I keep the pen in my hair. It isn’t much, just a tube of ink in a plastic case, really. But it makes me feel safer to have one. Funny, isn’t it? How something so small can make such a difference. I’m not saying a pen is going to be much use against a gun, or a particularly violent attacker, should I bump into such a person, but if you’ve ever been stabbed in the eye with a pen, you’ll understand how a well placed jab can be useful. And thus, the pen is quite literally mightier than the sword… though mostly that’s because I can actually legally walk around with one.

Secondly, and with no common ground whatsoever with the pen, the rain. It is raining today. When I woke up, comfortable in bed this morning, I most assuredly did not want to move, especially not to get up and go to work. Alas, working casual means I don’t have the luxury of taking any time off, so I begrudgingly got up, and got dressed, and  went to work, and felt momentarily miserable that I was missing the weather. I enjoy the rain. Grey days bring me an insurmountable measure of happiness. When it rains, I love nothing more than curling up with a cup of tea and a book, or sleeping in, or even just listening to the sounds of cars as they pass. So today, while some people are doing that very thing, I am at work, suffering through a boring day. And the worst part? I left the shop before to go outside for a moment, and the blasted sun was out. There were hints of blue poking through the cloud blanket, and my heart broke just a little. Sounds weird, I know. But unlike a lot of people, the sun after the rain makes me a little sad.

Thirdly, my gay friend. I am at a point, where I have decided to unfollow his Facebook posts. Because he doesn’t know how to be gay, without getting on his high horse about it. Now, this is a touchy subject but I want to point out that I myself am physically, and sexually attracted to other women. This is not a homophobic attack. And I like this person, he just happens to be irritating me lately. You see, ever since getting a boyfriend, it is as if he has developed an anti-straight personality. He throws his sexual orientation in everyone’s face, adopting every gay cliche imaginable, simply in an attempt to make straight people uncomfortable. It is almost like he is hoping someone will say something to him, so he can turn around and make himself a victim and say ‘well you’re only saying that because I’m gay’. And that mentality really bugs me. If someone is a jerk to you on the basis of your sexual orientation, fuck yeah man, give ’em hell. But if you’re just saying things, hoping to incite violence or discriminatory words/actions, then you’re bringing it on yourself, and I have no sympathy for you. I don’t condone being an asshole, regardless of what side of that battle you’re on. And honey, we know you’re gay. You don’t need to keep reminding us.

And finally, fear conquering. I am afraid of spiders. Or at least, I used to be. These days, I think I’m more wary of them. You see, ever since moving out and having to kill spiders on my own, I find them less frightening. Yeah, they’re creepy as fuck and their weird eight legged movements across my kitchen floor make me recoil. But now at least, I can kill them calmly and without running away from them. Actually, I recently referred to myself on Facebook as the Spider Killer King, and frankly, after killing twenty or so spiders in the last six months (I swear to you, that’s not an exaggeration!) I think that title is well deserved.

And finally, for the couple of people who asked, I finally moved with the times and stopped writing down every book I read in a notebook. I now have a Goodreads account, which you can find here.

And on that note, I’m out. Peace, y’all.

Summer Sucks, and it Ain’t Even Summer Yet.

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This is my least favourite time of year. Winter is well and truly gone, daylight savings is in full swing, Christmas is coming and the oppressive heat is already making me ill. It isn’t even summer yet, gods help me when December hits.

I’m the kind of girl that loves cold weather. Oversized jumpers and open fires and curling up with…anyone. This past winter was incredibly bleak however, and went for too long. Or at least, that was what I was saying a month ago. Now all I want is that cold weather back. I’m lying on my couch in panties and a tee, nursing a headache and cursing whatever or whoever is responsible for making her weather a thing.

It got to 38 degrees today. It’s just gone 7pm and it’s still 35. I am not handling it well. Even in the air conditioned store I work in, the heat still managed to have her wretched way with me. About mid way through my shift and I felt the dull ache begin behind my eyes. It gradually worsened and now I’m here feeling like there’s a little man with a jackhammer in my head, drilling into my brain. Stupid jackhammer man.

My body’s intolerance to heat, coupled with the fact that almost my entire wardrobe is black, and the fact that it’s not socially acceptable to walk around in public wearing nothing but panties and some nipple tassels, means that for the next three months – at least – I will be in varying states of sickness and heat fuelled, rage addled frustration. I pity the people who have to deal with me over summer. The sooner I finish my novel and become disgustingly wealthy, the sooner I can buy a getaway home in Portland and avoid Australian summer altogether. Guess I best get writing.

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This guy has the right idea.