Tossing in the towel...
I have never been reduced to tears by a piece of paper before, but yesterday Centrelinks 35 pages of hell did the job. I am so frustrated by it all!!! They want the most stupid things from me and they make it damn impossible to get anything. (Please refer to previous rant.) I now have to go and wait in line for another hour to get a clean form and then take it to the uni financial services people to see if they can help me fill it out. It has made me so crazy that I slept really poorly last night and I feel constantly tense. It makes me so depressed I just want to toss in the towel on the whole lot! Fuck Centrelink. Fuck uni. Fuck my job. Fuck it all.
I finished my last shift at the Council yesterday too... I resigned last week and finished up yesterday. No farewell card, no thank you, no nothing. It was like they just didn't really give a shit that after 18 months of busting my ass I was leaving. And then my boss asked me if i could do one shift a month for them! One 3 hour shift a month!!!! I told her she had to be kidding and there was no way that I could bring myself to do that. Fuck it all.
I am so fed up. I feel so discouraged and so depressed and I am fast reaching the point where I don't give a shit anymore. Which is a very bad place really. That's the place where I don't get out of bed for days. Gotta stop it.
It seems like I feel like this more and more often these days. Just look at my posts if you want proof... the bulk of the recent ones are depressed rants and whinges about how shitty I feel. I feel so juvenile and stupid on one hand, and so depressed that I just want to run away on the other.
The secret island is looking like a great option again!
Hawkeye...
Massive M*A*S*H Marathon
I have developed a M*A*S*H addiction. Foxtel is running a huge marathon with all the episodes shown over 5 days and I can't help but tune in everytime I'm in front of the telly (which has been a fair bit over this long weekend, much to my health kick's disgust). I missed the original M*A*S*H airings (contrary to my childhood belief, a belly button is not a window for foetuses to watch TV through) and over the years have caught episodes here and there on various channels. But now I find that I am thoroughly enjoying the tales of the 4077. Is it wrong to be in love with Radar? And that ol' Captain Pierce isn't too bad either...
Yes, I am broken.
Time to toot my own horn:
This evening I performed my mitzvah for the week. While walking back from the chinese take away place with Evey G, we came across a distressed elderly gentleman whose wife had just collapsed in his arms. It's an amazing rush to be able to handle situations such as these when they are thrown at you. While many people stand by, unsure of what to do to help, it gives you a huge sense of satisfaction to get in there and lend a hand. Whether it's providing medical help or simply providing comfort, it's amazing to feel like you can make a difference to people's lives. I am pleased to say that after sitting on the ground cradling the poor woman in my arms for 15 mins, she seemed to rally somewhat and we saw her safely into the back of an ambulance to be taken to hospital. The difference that a calm and rational voice made to her and her husband was profound. And it's fantastic to know that such an anonymous "fly by" can so appreciated.
Times like that reassure me that I am doing the right thing by going into nursing. There's a reason why I'm a third generation nurse. :o)
Margaret, I hope you're ok.
Anywho, I'm off back into the world of M*A*S*H again. I could watch this all night!
Fact: A baby echidna is called a puggle!
I forgot how good the Easter Show could be! Even in the rain!
I went to the Easter show yesterday with Miss Bear, Jono (her boyfriend), Mikey Cobra and their friend Sandy. It was freezing cold and it pissed down with rain, but it was a heap of fun! We saw the baby animals, and cows being milked, and the fruit displays, and the grand parade, and the clydesdales, and the other horsies, and the baa sheep, and the moo cows, and the dogs... and best of all, the showbags!!!! I haven't been to the show for years, since probably the first year it moved to Homebush, and I had a great time! I got home and I had no feeling in my hands and feet cos they were so cold and wet and the water line on my jeans was around my thighs. Let me tell you, a hot shower never felt so good!!!
Anywho... It's pissing down again today and i'm supposed to go into uni for a test and to sort out some registration stuff... but somehow I don't think that's gonna happen. I don't want to play in the rain again this week. Gonna go and eat my choccies out of my showbags!
I respect your opinion, but I'm not good at rejection. Sadly, you'll have to die!
I want to run away to a secret island.
One where sexy men bring me cocktails and everything is already paid for, and I don't feel like I have to fight everything every step of the way, and everything ends with happily ever after.
I feel rotten. I feel cynical and jaded and heavy and depressed. I just want to run away.
I still haven't received a letter of rejection from that job that I applied for, which I think is pretty damn rude! Especially seeing as my interview was a month ago this Wednesday and I was told that I would receive a phone call or letter by the end of the following week. Why are people so rude? Anywho, the decision has been made to leave that job within the next few weeks and then I'll apply for youth allowance and hopefully my application will be approved and i'll be able to collect enough to tide me over from week to week with the help of a few shifts at the nursing home.
So yesterday I stood in the queue at Centrelink for an hour (which I have been told is a sign that Centrelink was experiencing a quiet period!) just to get the 36 page form that I need to fill out in order to apply for youth allowance. In order to apply for government assistance I am required to inform them of the estimated worth of my assets (which are pretty much my crapped out computer and my stereo), I need to describe my accomodation (a cream coloured brick and sandstone house with a white fence and green guttering and decking), I need to provide statements of my income over the last 8 weeks (where the hell are those payslips again?), I need to inform them of how much cash I have, not including cash for "day to day living expenses and outstanding bills" (a whole mattress full of course, because the bank would be a stupid place to put money) and I need to inform them of how much money is in my bank account on the day that I lodge my form. And that's just the easy stuff! All I have done is read the form and already I'm feeling like it's too much trouble. I have paid my taxes since I got my first job when I was 15 and now that I need some help they make it damn near impossible to get the assistance that I'm entitled to. I hate to think what it's like for people worse off than me.
When my Mum went to get the carers allowance for looking after my Nanna after Pa died, they gave her a total run around about it all and she had to fill out 23 billion forms (OK
slight exaggeration) and in the end all she got was $40 a week to go towards the care of her dying mother. And there are cases like this all over Australia, parents looking after sick kids, kids looking after dying parents. Students studying full time and working 2 or 3 jobs to try and pay for their text books and uni fees. Parents being unable to get necessary assistance for their children because they earn a handful of dollars over the threshold. Something isn't right when people who NEED assistance and are entitled to it aren't getting it yet there's enough money going around to pay for koala's to get the pill. Seriously! Last year the Victorian State government put aside $500,000 to pay for a contraceptive program to control its koala population. Bullets are a damn side cheaper!
And on another note, I found out the other day that yet another friend of mine is engaged to be married. This will make 3 friends engaged, 3 married and 2 babies in the last 12 months!! I know I've got plenty of time in me and all, and my biological clock is hardly ticking, but it's somewhat disconcerting when everyone else is doing it and you've not had so much as a nibble in the big wide world of romance. In fact it pretty well sucks arse. After fixing the freaking welfare system we need to fix this whole dating and getting married business. As far as I'm concerned i think we should do thing "The Giver" style. (For those of you who don't get the reference, go to the local library and borrow a book called The Giver. It should be in the young adults section.) In the book the whole community is set up. Husbands and wives are arranged. In fact the whole family unit is arranged. Husbands, wives and kids are government issue. That could really solve my problems. Just drop a government issue man (I'm thinking kinda GI Joe-ish) off on every single woman's doorstep and that'd be it. Maybe you could get a trade in if you don't like the first one... but after that you're stuck with whatcha got baby. And it'd mean that everyone gets a partner, even the unattractive people.
The only other option would be to do dating "Yum Cha Style". They bring a cart around with little men on it you can have a little taste of each one before you decide which one to take home. (Dirty minds out of the gutter right now!) It's all just too difficult the way it is at the moment. You go out and complete fuckwits call you a minga or a dog right within earshot. And as much as you pretend that it doesn't matter what fucktards like that say, you can't help but wonder if there isn't a little bit of truth in it. Sometimes I feel like I'm going out wearing "Desperation", the latest fragrance by Calvin Klein. And it totally sucks dogs balls goddamn it!!!
I feel like I'm becoming hard. It's like when you get callouses, after a certain amount of pressure, discomfort and pain it all just starts to toughen up. I feel like I'm getting callouses on the inside. I don't want to be tough. Tough meat doesn't sell well.
Anyway, I'll be sending this all off into the ether in a minute, to be read by those that give a shit and those who are just unlucky enough to stumble upon this page.
I miss my Nanna and Pa.
I want to toss in the towel.
Does anyone want to run away to a secret island with me?
It's all about appreciation...
Well, I didn't get that job I wanted. And what a fucker that is. This past weekend has left me feeling remarkably un-appreciated and under valued by my employer and the clients that we serve. For the last 18 months I have busted my arse for my youth worker job. I have picked up shifts on extremely short notice (e.g. I get a phone call an hour before the shift starts), I have done things outside the scope of my job description (e.g. trekking across Chatswood to try and source a portable BBQ), and since the previous holder of the position left last year I have been filling the role. I am really disappointed that once again I have given my all to a job only to be passed over. Once the 2 new workers start my hours are going to be cut down and I can't afford to work only 3 hours a week.
I am now trying to decide whether to take whatever shit hours they offer me or leave and collect youth allowance. At the moment it's looking like leaving is my best option. I'm fed up with the kids too. We bust our arses to provide great services for them and they act like they wouldn't give a shit if we were there or not. We had a gig the other night with the Camels and the Devoted Few playing and not one of the kids said thank you. We bought chips and drinks to sell in the canteen and the kids just complained that we'd bought plain chips rather than salt and vinegar, and that we had lemonade and not solo and stupid shit like that. I'm starting to get sick of doing nice stuff for stupid, spoilt North Shore kids. At least at the nursing home you know that people appreciate the chats and the hugs and the arse wiping that you do for them. Even if they can't say thankyou you can tell that it is appreciated. But these little shits don't seem to care if we organise cool stuff for them or not. I'm reaching a point where I want to tell them all where they can stick it. I've just about had a gut-full.
On another note, my poor frangipani has spider mites and I had to take all her leaves off to get rid of them. Now I have to go find some spider mite killing stuff to make her feel better and hope that they haven't stunted her growth. Poor Frannie. :o(
Surely the Karma Gods have to start working in my favour soon!!!
The Moral of Today's Story: Never be an internal applicant who has to apply externally for a position. Nothing you have done gets taken into account and you just end up feeling like shit. It all sucks arse. I'm never going to apply for a job again.
Crime and Punishment
Seeing as Miss RedFox is so desperate for gossip, and she has been harassing me to update my blog for days, I refuse to write anything of much consequence today. (Nothing new really.) It is Miss RedFox's punishment for showing an interest in me! :o)
I would like to ask Miss RedFox's permission however to name my new lithops (succulent that looks like a bottom) Arsehat. She came up with the name and I feel that it is a rather appropriate name for a plant that looks like a bottom growing out of the crack of another bottom.
Speaking of lithops and bottoms, my other lithops, Bottom (or Bum), sadly died the other day. He just slowly turned to mush. :o( Poor Bottom.
I bought 2 new plants today. Cynthia the Succulent and Bottom 2 (who, should approval be granted, will be renamed Arsehat).
Anywho... in order to keep this post boring i'm going to finish now. Haha!!!
I have a new baby!
I bought a chilli plant today and he has been christened Willy the Chilli. I'm not sure what kind of chilli he is but he has some purple and some red chillis and he's very pretty. :o) He is now sitting on my balcony with Frannie the Frangipani, succulents Bernie, Bottom, Barb and Belle, and cacti Bob, Ball, Boo and Boo2. No, I'm not completely crazy, completely being the operative word here. I just like to name my plants. They are my pets cos I can't have a real pet, and they are much less work than a real pet anyway. Never have I had to rush home at the end of the day to feed the plants! I love the fact that they are so undemanding! And you can have a whole heap of them with out them killing each other or fighting! They are so cool!
Please someone do me a favour and remind me next time to wear gloves when re-potting cacti! I re-potted the kids today, thought I'd give them some different pot-mates until spring, and forgot to wear gloves with the spiky kids and they hurted me. :o( But they seem happy in their new pots. Bottom is looking a bit better than he was which is good, but he's not as good as he was the first few weeks after I got him. When I re-potted him after I got him last year I put some fertiliser in his new pot (it was spring, the right time to fertilise) but I think that the fertiliser may have burnt his roots which is why he stopped opening up and got sick. Poor Bottom. :o(
On a more studious note, I went back to uni this week. 2 of my classes seem really interesting and really appeal to me, they are about paediatric nursing and nursing for developmentally disabled people. The others are just as boring as last year. So much so that I fell asleep in my lecture this afternoon. Miss Liss had to wake me up when it was over. Oops!!! I must never do that again... at least until next week anyway.
I'm off to fix my sore hands now. Oww :o(
