Stories on the wind...

There's nothing quite like being an Australian.

Some days it hits me how many feelings and experiences we have that are unique to us.

And by "us" I mean any person living in the great wide land.

Today was a surreal reminder of the land that shapes us into who we are.

Standing on my porch thinking "I probably won't be doing the washing today" as smoke drifted across the valley like a ghost over the hills.

The grey clouds floating from hundreds of miles away and clinging to the landscape, whispering stories of forests disappearing into flame and ash. And you stop still and listen as the country tells you it's tales.

We're born with the knowledge that in this place, we don't tame the land, the land tames us.

And when it speaks, we listen, deep down in our bones.

How Hard Can It Be?

Dear Business Owner

You may not be aware that I put many hours of concerted effort into my application to work for your company.

I spent a great deal of my limited time researching you and your business, matching my skills to your needs and providing relevant examples, and generally spruiking my excellent talents so you wouldn't have to read something as tedious as my resume.

I actually WANTED to work for you. That's why I put in the effort, my letter/email did not arrive on your lap/in your inbox because I am so devoid of human interaction I'll do anything for attention.

Note the past tense. I no longer want to work for you because despite all my efforts it seems you subscribe to the theory that common courtesy is out of touch with a modern reality.

I refer of course to your obvious lack of reply in any form - whether letter, phone call, email or even as a last resort a text message. A polite "thankyou for your application" was all I required. An acknowledgement of receipt.

How hard can it be?

Yours frustratedly (it is a word... Shakespeare made up words so I can too)


Natalie.


PS - If you are an employment agency, you should know better, shame on you.

Happy Birthday to ME!

I don't get birthdays usually...

 

Not since Miss 10 (almost 11) decided she would make an appearance ten days after mine thus ensuring I am always in the throes of birthday cake construction planning and too busy erecting the scaffolding to care.

 

But I'm going to be that magical number 29 this year and I'm having a birthday.

 

A proper one.

 

One before I hit the top of the hill at 30 and my Grandma starts buying me fancy eye cream every year like she does for mum.

 

WonderMan and I are off to Adelaide kid free for a whole. entire. weekend.

 

Kudos to my boss, she said yes when I pitched the whole "if you look after ours we will look after yours" scheme. She's a cool boss.

 

So Happy Birthday to me it is.

 

 

Apocalypse... Never?

After writing a piece ironically titled "It's the end of the world as we know it"  I was emailed by a lovely lady who thought I'd be interested in something her group had put out. 

This is where I chuckle because even though it has nothing to do with our dead tv, by complete coincidence I actually WAS interested. 

And it gave me a good laugh when I remember sitting around on NYE 1999 without my mum because she was on stand by as an emergency services volunteer. In case the lights went out and the aliens landed and it was all chaos and we all tried to eat our excess siblings.

You might remember some of these as well.

(This graphic comes from OnlinePsychologyDegree.net)