Saturday, November 12, 2011

I've had the last two days off work. And when I say 'off work' I mean that I didn't have any work lined up. Them's the breaks of temping I guess, though it makes me incredibly nervous to not be working.

Technically I am grateful that I've had the last two days free. There is a list of paperwork that I need to do that is so ridiculously long and complicated - insurance claims for everything that was stolen while travelling, papers for the car that we left in Italy (poor Turk!), complicated job applications, sorting out tax and Centrelink issues.

And I don't want to do any of it. Sitting in the flat all day, going hungry for hours rather than making myself anything to eat, I procrastinate until I send myself mad. It reminds me of those years of home-schooling, that gnawing anxiety that I should be doing something, surely, with life. Anything rather than sitting in my room listening to Triple J, my books open and ready while I sit and stare out the window at the unchanging front garden.

I should Nike myself up and Just Do It. But I don't want to. I'd rather get all queer-sad and read tumblrs like this: , listening to the sound of builders and jackhammers that are everchanging the site outside my window.

1 comment:

  1. Well, at least you managed to write another post for you blog, which is not a task to be scoffed at.