Welcome to my Humble Abode....

Wow - the past few days have been muy hectic! I have finally moved into my first, non-rented home over the weekend, so i've spent the last week either:
A) Undercoating and painting;
B) Loading or unloading boxes and furniture; or
C) Unpacking and arranging said boxes and furniture.

I'm so glad i decided to take a week of annual leave to coincide with the move, because otherwise i'd have random boxes sitting around for weeks on end. Don't get me wrong, i still have a few odds and ends to sort through, but for the most part everything is in its new place. Mr Gil and I still have a second coat of paint to put on this weekend, and even though painting has proved to NOT be my favourite job in the world, its well worth it to cover up the colours the previous owners had going on. I'm all for colour, but just couldnt handle the Kermit the Frog hued green of the bathroom, or sunflower yellow of the lounge and dining room. Colour is gorgeous and effective when its splashed about - i'm thinking cushions, photo frames, knick knacks..... its more pyschedelic nightmare-ish when its everywhere. Everywhere. Everywhere!!

I've also been to have a nuchal translucency test - which is, in laymans terms, an ultrasound and blood test to determine my risk of carrying a baby with Down Syndrome or similar chromosomal abnormalites. Its sounds a little scary, but its just your basic ultrasound. Its also the first time i've been able to see my little person looking like a baby, and not a frog. What relief to know i'm carrying a human and not an amphibian! To be serious, the dating scan at 8 weeks shows the baby at quite an early stage - Mr Gil and i nicknamed the baby Stumpy because of the tiny, stump like, froggy looking limbs it was sporting at the time. But this time around, at 12 weeks now, litte Stumpy is recognisably baby like - tiny little fingers and toes, crazy rapid heartbeat, and fully formed and functional organs. I also think Stumpy is practising baby yoga in there - i cant feel any movements for myself yet but waiting half an hour for him/her to get into the right position to have the nuchal photo taken was like watching a tiny, underwater ballet! At one point, he/she even mooned me, so i have half a mind to ground my child as soon as its born.... what a cheeky rat!

And thats been my week thus far - excluding sleep ins and mid afternoon naps. Its going to be tough going back to stupid work next week....

Oddly Comfortable Deja Vu

So i have spent the majority of the day moving loads of stuff to my parents house. I'm not actually officially moving out of my duplex until next weekend but i thought i'd get a jump on proceedings. I've basically moved all my stuff from my room here to my room there - clothes, shoes, accessories, toiletries and beauty products. I've kept enough stuff here to last me the next five days but other than that its all set up at Ma and Pa's. I have to admit that cleaning out the wardrobe has been like a cleansing ( goodbye old stuff, hello more room in wardrobe for new stuff! ) and the packing, unpacking and moving back and forth has been almost as good a workout as going to the gym.

But you know what ? I have this odd split feeling. Everything feels so familiar - i've put my bed in the same position as it was when i was a teenager, my clothes are all on the same shelves, things like that - but its all so weird too. I'm conflicted - i dont know whether i'm okay with moving back or not, and i dont know whether i should feel grateful that my parents are looking out for me, or irritated that my sister had to move out. Thats quite selfish actually, isnt it? Of COURSE i should be grateful. If it werent for their generous offer i'd probably soon be wallowing in debt. And its not exactly my sisters fault that she lost her job ( the place where she worked closed down ) but she isnt exactly trying enormously hard to look for more fulltime work, so i'm kind of peeved.

On the other hand, it might be nice to have actual conversations with people again. I dont know whether i mentioned it before but the few months my sister and i lived together we rarely had actual discussions - sure, we talked, we jibber-jabbered, but rarely did we sit down and actually talk. So it will be nice to able to, say, watch a news report and then be able to discuss the issue with my parents ( my father in particular ). Plus, it'll be good to save that little bit of extra money. That'll come in real handy when i make the move to Sydney, with its high cost of living and all.

So just think - this time next week i'll be blogging from the comfort of my old bedroom, hanging out on my bed with my cd player blaring, just the way i did when i was 15 yrs old. Only, back then, it was a paper and pen diary and i didnt have an audience....

The Unveiling of the Secret Plan

So in the past few posts, I have hinted at a “ plan “ I have. Before you get too excited, this plan does not involve high-flying travel, millions of dollars, or joining the CIA. Rather, it is a plan for getting myself the hell out of here – out of DubVegas, out of my rut and out of the doldrums.

Yes, that’s right, I have finally got my act together and decided to move away from Dubbo. I know that there is one of you in particular who may be reading this that suggested a move away from my hometown a long time ago, and now I’m trying to put that into motion. After the last few months of frustration and disgruntlement in my job, and going back into counseling with a psychologist and general “ my life is a big pile of poo “-ness, I sat back and hard a good hard look at who I am and where I’m headed, and I decided the future wasn’t looking all that bright. I’d always said, from the time I was in my early teens, that I didn’t want to live here forever, but I’ve just never been able to determine the right time to go. So, in sitting back and taking this objective look at my life as it is, I thought “ If not now, when ? Who says this isn’t the right time ? It could be the wrong time, but if I don’t make that leap, how will I ever know ? “

So that’s what I’m doing. I’m leaping. Not without looking mind you, I don’t want to break my leg or anything.

I’m making said leap – to Sydney. I’m not expecting anything to happen too immediately, but I’m hoping to be able to make a start down there by the end of the year. I’ve started applying for jobs down there, mostly around the western suburbs and inner west, and have started keeping an eye on rental properties and prices. I’ve checked out train routes and surfed Google Maps to see how far certain suburbs are from one another. I’ve spoken to P and to one of my uncles about keeping an eye out for work opportunities, and also about crashing at their places if I got a job but couldn’t find a place to live right away. To tell the truth, I’m kind of excited.

And you know what ? I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I feel like now that I finally have a semi-clear idea of what I want and how to get it, its like a veil has been lifted and I can see so much better now. Far from being anxious or nervous at what might be coming, the prospect of living a new challenge has me brimming with confidence. I’ve been cheerier, more contented, the past few weeks than I have been for a long, long time. There have been a few decisions that I’ve had to make that have seen momentary downturns in mood, but for the most part its been smooth and happy sailing.

The only decision that’s had me a little “ flip-floppy “ thus far has been this – I’ve decided to move back in with my parental units. Yes, I’m returning to the nest that only a couple of years ago I was all too eager to flee. The move home was actually my dads suggestion – shock!horror! – but it makes perfect sense. See, my sister has lost her fulltime job and cant afford to live out of home with me anymore, and in her leaving I would be back to paying all the rent and all the bills myself. My Dad rightly pointed out how would I save any money for an impending move if I was spending it all on the cost of living on my lonesome? So the idea was put to me that I move back into the family abode, back into my old room, put all my furniture in storage, and save the money I would be paying to a landlord. I agree, that IS a good idea ( why else would I agree to it ? ) but it did pose a few immediate issues. When was I ever going to get some “ alone time “ ? How was I going to be able to walk around in my underwear and get dressed in front of the heater in the morning ? And forget any intimacy with RNG ( who I haven’t mentioned in a while…. ) – that shan’t be happening under my parents roof! But I guess those are the sacrifices I’m going to have to make in an effort to find a life, and myself. On the upside I’ll almost always have someone to hang out with; I’ll only have to cook one night a week and I wont have to pay for groceries anymore.

So there you be, ladies and gentlepersons – the unveiling of my secret plan. Everybody wish me luck and if any of you have any tips or tricks or ideas that you want to pass on, please do.
Viva la vida, people, viva la vida!

Umm, yea, actually, i have....

I was asked today, by someone who had been reading my blog - have you ever thought of leaving Dubbo ? For those of you who do not know - presumably because you are not Australian and, thusly, have never heard of it - Dubbo is the name of the town i live in. I prefer to refer to it is " DubVegas ", purely because it is so NOT like Las Vegas at all.

Anyhoo, my answer to the question was " Actually, yea, heaps ". He then wanted to know why i wasnt more motivated to actually leave and not just think about it a lot. It was a brief conversation but i've been thinking on it for the last few hours. He seemed to think that leaving - that throwing myself out there in the big wide world - would do me some good. That it would force me to meet more people, different people, people who could do wonders for me. And i understand that but there are two things i keep coming back to:
1. Just how do i go about leaving ?
and
2. What if it has the opposite of the desired effect ?

Lets confront those issues, in turn. Firstly, how do i go about getting out ? Do i think of a suitable place to move to, somewhere that i would like to live, and then find a house and a job ? Or do i look for available jobs and houses and then move wherever there is work and accomodation? Do i move somewhere far enough away that i'm out on my own but still close enough to visit family and friends regularly ? Or do i move interstate, across country, and be entirely and utterly alone ? the second part of this issue is i'm not entirely sure what kind of work i would do. I have a job, a career even, but i'm not sure i want to be an optical dispenser forever and, besides that, its the not the kind of occupation that has vacant positions all the time. I'm thinking it might be difficult to find work in that field, at least in area that i would be happy to live in.

Secondly, what if the move has the opposite effect than what i intended? That is, my whole reason for moving would be to be happier - to make new friends, have new adventures, find new horizons. But what if that didnt happen ? What if i couldnt find people i was compatible with and i retreated into the shadows of depression again ? i wouldnt even be near family and friends who already loved me and could lend their support. I'd be alone, and three thousand times lonlier. Would i have to come slinking home with my tail between my legs and a dark cloud over my head?

Dont get me wrong, the more i think on it the more it is something that i will seriously look into. But it cant be something that i rush, i'd want to be pretty sure of what i was doing and confident that i could turn things around if something went wrong.

The last thing i'd want is to feel trapped again by my own decisions.