Woah I Have Really Dropped Off

Guess its because i haven't actually been doing that much to talk about. Besides learning the piano - stupid thing who knew it would be that hard :P

Lets see, well I guess the most momentous thing in my life at the moment is that i finally got another temp job - no previous employee to snatch it away, in fact the smell of slight desperation permeated the air at my interview. If you can call it an interview, more like an informal chat that lasted about 10minutes. And to think I spent all that time on my hair and makeup. And I even did my eyebrows. My hairdresser did my eyebrows for me on the weekend and I love them. I know that sounds strange and a little bit vain, but if you have ever gone through having shapeless eyebrows that you don't like to nice ones that have some shape without being stick thin then you will know exactly what i am talking about. They are the best i have ever had them, and my hairdresser doesn't do them professionally. All those different beauticians and professionals and i got the best one in the kitchen of my hairdresser sitting in her $28 eBay barber chair. I really should get her something as a thank you. Now where was I... oh yeah the job. I started today; i only found out i got it yesterday afternoon. I kind of feel like my time off is unfinished, like there are some loose ends to tie. Not that there are really, I guess i just didn't get the whole wind down that i am used to when i know that i have to go to work in the next couple of days. Don't get me wrong, i would prefer not to be working but i could use 8 weeks worth of money so i can't say no. I miss buying stuff. Although i know i can't because mom says i have to save money for uni. Good old practical mum. I am an extravagant spender trapped in a family full of penny pinchers. So for the next couple of months i will sell my time for $20 per hour, 8 hours a day, 5 days a week.

I have become more interested in makeup and hair techniques in the last couple of weeks (before my job when i had plenty of time to kill). You tube is a bonanza of how to videos, first there was piano lessons, now eye makeup and hair styling. Now if only I could get time to do it. I will have to make sure my laziness does not kick back in and bring my apathy back with a vengeance. Better go, i only have half an hour left before my show comes on and i have about 800 stories in my RSS feeds to read. Twilight is less than 20 days away from premiering in the states and the twi-hards are going post crazy.

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Ooh I am ever so naughty. I haven't written anything is about 5 days. Musn't keep the masses waiting any longer; I am sure they need an update about the life of Hips Magee and her sidekick Lord Stinkypants.

I finished my temp job at the engineering place. It was so lovely on Tuesday morning to wake up and not have to go sit somewhere for 7 and a half hours and feign enthusiasm and interest. I wish i could make that a career itself; perhaps teaching others how to act enthusiased and together and confident to help them in their pursuits. It is something that I excel in. I am the perfect little administrator/secretary/receptionist: I will follow yours orders with a smile on my face, do the menial tasks you designate me with the grace of an angel, all the time despising the fact that I have to do what others tell me to.

Enough of that. Yesterday i went for another temp interview with a planning firm. It was a temp job up until christmas and then they were going to review whether it may become a permanent role. It was an administrator role, least it wasn't reception, more like pushing papers around on a desk or creating files on the computer. I think I did okay in the interview, again I came across as enthusiastic and interested all the time mentally trying to count the exact number of days i would have to turn up to the place. I think it was like 60 days. 60 days of getting up early, driving in the horrible work traffic, having to park in a parking station and foot the bill and for what - a boring role in a boring office. God why does all admin have to be in boring jobs. Isn't there any exciting or interesting fields out there that require administration that goes beyond the realm of just typing letters and filing and binding.

The recruitment lady told me to be quietly confident as i was the front runner of the candidates - however there were only two candidates interviewed. I was more like quietly dying at the prospect of returning to the employed world. Turns out i don't have to worry because ONCE AGAIN I have been pipped at the post for a role that went to someone that worked for the company. It was OneSteel all over again. 'Cept this time the worker wasn't even on the scene until this morning when one office was talking to the sydney head office and mentioned it and lo and behold they had the perfect candidate that was interested. Is going to move up from Sydney for it. Well good on her.

I should be happy right? No time to think now as I can hear Lord Stinkypants quietly snoring in the bean bag and its kind of making me tired. Will probably think about it lying in bed but hopefully will drift off. Maybe i will have some more madcap dreams like last nights time travel scenario and gangster apartment block.

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The Yawns Are Coming Thick And Fast

Man I would kill for some excitement in my life.

I have just finished Day 2 of my stint as a temp (the temp as the other co-workers call me). Reflecting on the two days so far i am worried that I may have to return to this life of a full time office worker. The bleating of the phone, the noise of the photocopier, the way the time seems to go so slow until your escape. Is this monotony my destiny? If it is I can't last another 30 years, i truly can't stand to do it for a week. I feel so tired tonight i didn't go for a walk. I got the yawns at about 3pm this afternoon at my desk; you know the ones that come one after another after another and you have to try to stifle them if anyone walks past. There is no fun in the office. I know that i am only a temp so am an outsider but even the regular staff barely talk to each other except about work. They just sit and type. Or shuffle paper. Or walk from their desk to the photocopier and back. My work involves front desk reception although it does not generate a lot of walk in clients thank goodness, less interruptions. Less interruptions means more time to do the stupid virtual archiving. As in scanning a Manila folder stuff with documents from about 4 years ago and creating a soft copy, labelling it under the specific job number and saving it. It is a constant stop and start; go through paperwork in folder removing all staples and paperclips, get up walk to copier, set copier to email to my desk and scan documents, walk back to desk, open PDF and rename it correct job number before saving. I try to do it in batches yet standing at the photocopier feeding each individual file through is mind numbing; like why can't i be somewhere else. Sure it's supposedly good that I am out amongst people instead of locked away by myself in my bedroom however these people are the most bland, anti social bunch. Not a looker among them.

I am going to sign off now as my eyelids are getting heavy. I hope I don't fall asleep in my dinner.

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Man The Cramp In My Calf Muscles This Morning Was A Doozey.

Well i have let the updates get away from me but now that the laptop is returned I can type from just about anywhere. So what has happened since sunday night? Well i made my way to the interview at the untimely hour of 9am. It was in this huge engineering and industrial complex and my email instructions were to go to building 7. It was way too much to ask that there be a flashing neon 7 on one of the buildings. I rang the recruitment agency because i figured the girl would have gone there to meet with them. She was in a meeting - bugger damn shit. Anyways after 15 minutes of wandering the site - not a person in site, it was like there was a nuclear fallout of something i find the entrance and have to sign in and get myself a neat little day pass to clip on my suit.

For half an hour I answered their questions, being careful to sell myself as the worlds greatest administrator, even thought it was a mind numbing job of just reformatting their OH & S manuals. It was between me and one other girl that was being interviewed next. Cept nobody mentioned that she actually already worked for the company and was trying to get transferred. So who do you think they chose? That's right,the person that already works for the company. Her only greater competency than me was that she could navigate her way around the rabbit warren building. And to add insult to it, the recruitment lady rang and was all bubbly asking me how i thought it went. I spent 2 minutes saying how great i thought i went and that i would be able to handle the job and everything was good and then she tells me i that unfortunately, althought they had nothing but positive things to say about me, they had decided to go with the current employee. Why do companys not interview internally first and then if they can't find someone then go externally. Do they not know how much effort job seekers go through for interviews. Making sure all the clothes are neat and tidy, trying to tame hair and make face look half decent, researching the company and finding out pointless crap about them. Getting themselves all psyched up and travelling there and the waiting and the talking and the after interview dissection. Bastards. I am not disappointed about missing out on the job, i am disappointed in missing out on $20 per hour. I could use the cash. Money good, poor bad. Perhaps i could sell my eggs.

The other main event of the day is that i finally saw the latest in a long line of doctors in relation to my mind/depression/anxiety/general malaise towards the world. I didn't know what to expect but Dr KJS seems like a nice person even if his pants were falling down. I was with him for about 3 hours in this tiny little room. He made me feel comfortable and even though he was on one side of the desk and i on the other, I did not get that patronising "I am a doctor" vibe from him. He asked me questions about my life thus far and everything that had happened. He was scribbling all these notes of blank pieces of A4 paper; kind of like mind maps but a bit less organised. I am assuming that it will be typing into the computer as a proper file.

Anyways to sum up what was an interesting and illuminating 3 hours he diagnosed that I had a restless mind syndrome, something along the lines of ADD. More so then depression. He thinks that the depression is the outcome of the restless mind problems, not the cause of the problems. Hopefully he is right. I have to say what he said made a lot of sense, the quiz that i took that i had to answer, all the time, sometimes,occasionally, seldom, never etc had a lot of experiences that i have had. Like really almost describing me. The fact that out of 25 questions i had 70% in the always or quite a lot meant that i was a candidate. He summed it up by saying that my brain is "all dressed up and nowhere to go" - i can relate to that especially lately when i have been bored and have nothing to do. I really wish that i had taped the session as i am struggling to reiterate what he said and how he explained it. It's kind of like the activity part of my brain is like members of an orchastra; each have their own thing to do but they need to follow the conductor in order for it all to be put together and make beautiful music. But my conductor is sitting down reading a newspaper at the moment and neglecting his duties to order up the orchastra, so they in turn are just kind of doing their own thing and not working together and therefore not being effective. I now have tablets that are the equivalent of a big tough guy walking over to the conductor, yanking the newspaper out of his hands, grabbing him by the shirt and dragging his to the orchastra. A big hard " get the fuck over there and fix this shit will ya" Get em organised. The funny thing is he gave me this tablet to try and told me to go away for about 40 minutes to see if it had any effect. I was flabbergasted that it was supposed to work that quick. Kind of like Panadol quick. Having been on AD's for so long i am accustomed to a long wait for them to kick in. I sat in the car reading for half an hour and trying to notice if there was any difference to me. I was not expecting much and i kind of can't tell whether or not i noticed anything or whether i kind of talked myself into it. Everything just seemed clearer/sharper; stuff that i was looking at just seemed sharper. I was reading a book and the black type stood out on the white paper and i couldn't tell if it was just a trick of the mind. I guess i kind of felt serene, mellow but as I said to Dr KJS there is not a lot of life changing/panic inducing problems in the coles carpark at swansea. He laughed and agreed. I have decided to take this course of tablets; i didn't want to procrastinate and put off something that may help me. The problem is they are basically like speed. If anyone else had given it to me it would be illegal. I got read the riot act at the chemist this morning about keeping them locked away etc etc.

So i am underway on my first day of treatment. I will update my progress accordingly. I have just noticed that i have written a bloody lot. I hear the familiar squish of the beanbag and see that Lord Stinkypants is currently in the process of enveloping himself in it. I love how he trys to climb in but if the bean bag is too high he turns around and looks at me to help him. So i must sign off now as m'Lord requires a helping hand.

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Lost In Ambivalence

Sigh. It is the night before the interview. My ambivalence has set in. You know, the one that makes you think you don't really care if you get the job so that if you don't get the job the rejection doesn't crush you. Eight weeks worth of money would be kind of neat though as I have $8 in my bank account. Yes yes i have $2K in the other one but i kind of don't want to deplete that if necessary. Anyways not really in the mood to talk.

Think I will go to bed and dream about Edward Cullen. Yeah good one.

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Why Did I Make Myself Icecream When I Don't Even Want It

So apparently my rant about job seeking yesterday was a bit early. I got a call from the recruitment agency on Friday afternoon saying that the company would love to meet with me on Monday. That's more like it. So have to be at said engineering firm at 9am for interview with the HR Manager. I have to say that I am immensely relieved that this is going ahead. The thought that I wouldn't even make interviews for a simple admin job where its only temporary and if you suck they can get rid of you, pretty much made me feel worthless. Oh and I hate the sitting around and waiting for the call from the agency. Put my life on hold on the off chance that I get a call. Carry my mobile in my pocket so that every time i take a step i can feel the phone against my leg - another reminder.

Today being Saturday I decided to walk down to the local shops to get the Saturday paper. The idea is that i will look for jobs in the paper. The paper is still sitting folded in the neat carry bag my mum made for me. The downside of said neat carry bag is that now i have no reason to call mum to come and pick me up at the shops. It is 4 kilometres from our house to the news agency and there is no way that I will walk 4kms carrying a thick paper ( or Grazia when it comes out). Now I have no excuse as I am hands free for the return trip. I think I get about halfway back, so what 6kms, when my legs start to protest. What I really hate and is really tough is that the last kilometre of road curves down so that if i walk on the correct side of the road i am in the lowest part and sometimes have a habit of schooching sideways off the road completely. I probably look slightly intoxicated however should the odd car pass me I am able to pull myself together for the fifteen seconds and look like the power walker i am so desperately trying to be.

So its Saturday night. And how is the party animal that is Hips Magee spending it i hear you ask? At home with her parents. On the computer, reorganising her IRiver for walking music. Oh and i seem to be biting all my nails off. I don't know why I am, I haven't bitten my nails in a while. In fact just last week I had to file my nails down because they were getting too long to type with. Guess i won't have that problem anymore. So biting my nails means i am worried about something. What though? Looks like I am going to have to delve into my psyche for some answers.

I finally got an idea for a story to work on for my creative writing. It's not bad and I am just in the process of trying to work out characters. It's funny how before when I was watching TV and I came up with the idea, and I got all excited and enthused. I wanted to work on the story but I was in the middle of a TV show. I lamented the fact that my mother had taken the laptop away for the weekend so i could not sit and work on it. Now that the show is finished and, as always on Saturday night, there is absolutely nothing worth watching, I have moved into the computer. Yet now my momentum has waned and I seem to find other things to do on the computer eg write this entry, reorganise my IRiver. What's that about - why can I not follow through on the idea. I will never write a book if i don't start but why can't I bring myself to start. Fear of failure? probably. Fear of putting a lot of time and effort into something that i will fail miserably at. Ding Ding Ding we have a winner folks. Why can't I realise that i can never become a paid author if i don't start writing? I have to start somewhere. David Beckham would never have become so great at soccer if he decided to skip practice when he was ten and watch telly.

Another thing that I am feeling lately is jealousy towards young actors and actresses. Hold that thought - it sounds like Lord Stinkypants has come down from his bed and wants to go outside. He went to bed at 7:30 when it became clear that I was not going to give him any of my yummy Thai sweet chili rolls. Now he will go out, bark at whatever nocturnal wildlife is out in the yard and then demand to come back in so he can go back to bed; be it in the bean bag or his doggie bed. The life of some hey. Anyways back to the jealousy. I see all these pretty young things in their teens and twenties. Being hyped up, going to parties, wearing designer clothes, being talked about and lauded over by fans and getting to spend their days making movies and being paid for it. I WANT THAT. When people ask me what I want to do i want to yell that. I want to act, to be famous, to be pretty and to never ever have to worry about money again. But how do you say that when you are 30, are known to be quite shy and have never acted in your life. And even if I wanted to how the hell am i supposed to start. i have looked up acting classes and drama in newcastle et al and there is like 4, 3 of which are talent agencies. How can i find out if i am any good at acting here in this boring town. Unfortunatly acting is not something that you can learn online. And even if i could I would never be discovered hiding away here in little old backwater town. So what am i supposed to do, uproot myself from my safe place and throw myself into a huge town where i know no-one and feel about as cosmopolitan as an old boot all for the pursuit of a pipe dream. That would be living the dream, following the yellow brick road, creating my own happiness and destiny.

Wouldn't want to do a silly thing like that.

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Man I Forgot To Think Of A Title Before Posting.

Okay so five o clock came and went and no call from the recruitment agency. I kind of can't beleive it - i am so qualified for the role i am practically overqualified and yet i can't even get this role. So what am I supposed to make of that. I'm not good enough to answer phones and type documents for 8 weeks? Ah god i am over it.

I went for another walk this afternoon just because i was feeling antsy; i had to admit its a lot cooler around 4pm then it is first thing in the morning. I ambled along watching other people live their lives, driving, mowing the yard, talking to neighbours. People driving, i wonder where they are going, and what they are thinking when they see me loping down the road with my water bottle and my slightly scowled expression. The aircraft jets were playing their war games in the sky above so the noise kept drowning out my headphones - i am concious of turning them up to loud; i hate when i am lying in bed at night and hear ringing. I start to panic that i am going deaf and that i will never listen to my headphones again. But all is forgotten by morning. Lord Stinkypants was most disappointed that i went for my second walk without him - i call still see the look of abandonment on his face and he stared after me through the fence. But I am sorry mate I wanted to walk, not stop every 5 minutes to sniff grass and mark your territory for some invisible foe that you will never meet. If i am going to go walking it has to have some benefit either aerobically or fat burning.

I feel like writing, creatively i mean, as in fiction. But i cant think of a story or plotline that i haven't lifted from something that has already been written. I am very good at daydreaming and have an overactive imagination which i am sure i can utilise however none of these have plots so would be incredibly boring after about 10 pages. Seeing as that is the case I thought I would try my hand at some fan fiction; the characters are already fleshed out. However there is something that seems to be stopping me. As if there is a little voice in my head saying "it won't be that good a story so why waste your time on it when you could be doing other things". This is a voice that i hear a lot and that same phrase could be applied to a lot of other scenarios. And it wins. Pretty much all of the time. It keeps me in my shell, my boring shell, my lonely shell. I just go around in circles - i wish i had a life but the voice in my head says its too much work and that its going to be a waste of time so don't bother. So I don't. Then i lament my lack of fun, friends and happiness etc.

So can someone out there please give me a metaphorical kick up the ass.

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