I am excited though, it's a good move for me, scary when I don't drive because it's going to be a pain in the arse getting places but probably good for my fitness!
Maybe 6 weeks to start, got to get all my checks done and confirmed and then hand my 4 weeks notice in. Eeeeeeeek.
So bloody cold right now, trying to get home, worst traffic ever!
The ridiculous thing is that I would also be upset if I did get it as I don't want to leave the job that I'm in at all, but there has been no real pay rise in 3 years, no sign of any in the future and no chance of career development at all unless I manage to get one of the rare duty manager jobs.
It's time to move on but I'm scared. Scared I'll hate the corporateness of working for the council, having to take my piercings out and look plain and not myself, dealing with so much bullshit and fearing budget cuts and redundancy. Jen reckons its a necessary move to get a better pension and pay, but I feel sick at the thought of it.
Working in local authority could be a gateway to so much that I want to do though. Argh.
Also the house is stressing me out again as development seems to have come to a standstill and I just want to enjoy summer and not be sitting in darkened rooms sorting out filing and painting.
So tired and know that my mood is not good recently.
Working with the personal trainer and MyFitnessPal to try to fight the ever present doom that is my weight but progress is slow. How can I weigh almost the same eating salad and exercising hard twice a week as I did eating crap and doing nothing?
*wanders off mumbling*
The cognitive dissonance is fading, suddenly my body has snapped back into line with my soul. Seven years as a meat eater has been bad for my spirit.
There's a pagan in me that knows the Hunt is the natural way of things, but we are not living in the primordial forest or a jungle or an arctic tundra where hunting is necessary to survival and we are just as likely to be eaten by a polar bear as to catch one. We don't have any respect for the animals that give their lives for us to be fed. We block out the reality of it because it's difficult and we don't really connect the meat on our plate with anything that was ever alive, modern (city) people are children in that respect, we never really get to grips with death and slaughter.
I want to try harder to live up to my own principles. I'm sick of making excuses for myself.
I'm not sure if I'm in love, or not, happy or depressed or bipolar, ha. I know that each day I wake up and function and move forward to the next day and that right there is an achievement.
I am trying to stop measuring my level of failure, trying not to let criticism and bad energy into my life, not let it affect my life. I'm braver and stronger and more stable than I'm given credit for, all I can do is continue to prove that by surviving but I know so few people really believe I'm capable of pulling myself out of this hole.
Currently struggling with night shift induced insomnia which is great, may not manage to sleep at all before work tomorrow. Sleep dep always makes my sanity like SO much better.
It's so odd to me that I don't see kids in the streets of Manchester wearing Nirvana hoodies and skate chains anymore. No more German army shirts and people dressed as The Crow. After about the age of 23 I really started to consider what it must be like to be in your 60s and have seen so many subcultures come and go and then disappear with no trace, how very strange and disconcerting.
And then over the larger stretch of time how in the 21st Century we look back at everything pre 1900 as positively medieval and pretty much all the same, when in fact there were more years between the pyramids of Giza and Cleopatra than there are between Cleopatra and us. And someone from 1200 would certainly have recognised that there was something weird about people from 1500. Time and eras like a patchwork quilt running into itself but separate and distinct, each edge recognising the edge connected to it but so far from the edge beyond.
And now I should probably get some sleep.
I'm in a weird place right now where I'm gazing into the mouth of doom so often that things that would have previously knocked me down crying just don't have any effect. I already had the worst year of my life, lost my soulmate, gained nothing but weight, fuck it. I could skydive with a parachute attached to my nipple rings at this point and not be particularly enlivened by it.
That's sort of freeing, I have very little left to lose and so the fear is..different.
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! It is an ever-fixèd mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Realising that I'm actually moving house. Seems logical but has still not sunk in at all. Slowly detaching my attachment to this flat although it's been good to me. Just need to make the move now and start getting settled so I can sort the rest of my life out a bit.