Relocation Update

Mostly what I have to report is a lot of nothing. 


WonderMan is working. I'm working. I'm trying to catch up on the mess that has descended from a weekend of flu plus work last week. 


I can tell you the people working in the real estates where we are going do not want any business. They are quite possibly content to sit at their desks filing their nails for the rest of their careers. Although they won't have a job much longer if they continue like that....


Out of five real estate agents contacted for rental applications one - yes ONE - has emailed me the forms, and it took her three days to do that. Because a job that takes all of five seconds couldn't possibly be done right away while I'm talking to you on the phone.


I've started sending my resume out. The problem with this move is the juggle of finding a job before we relocate, otherwise we are going to be looking at a bit of a financial black hole, and we just got out of one of those so I'm reluctant to jump back in.


The kids and I may have to stay here a bit longer, or alternatively move up and live in the converted shearer's quarters WonderMan is currently inhabiting. 


Based on the descriptions he has given me.... option B is not my first choice. 


I was starting to clear the house bit by bit for a garage sale, but as I said, I'm a bit behind and need a couple of clear days to catch up again and get back into the groove. I have so much stuff to get rid of. I'm aiming for the least amount of stuff to move as possible.


I have sent off Tiger's school enrollment for her new school. I doubt we will be able to fit in a visit before the end of the year, because ballet concerts and work take us right up until Christmas this year.


There is a lot of work to be done, but I'm sitting on my hands waiting for when we can set a date, pick a house, and load that truck.


Hopefully it's soon.

Hey, It's Okay!

Another Tuesday, another linky with the delightful Whispering Writer 

Also joining I Blog On Tuesdays with Diary of a SAHM

 

 I like being okay about things, I like being cool, calm and collected, totally ZEN, ya know?

I'm hopeless at it. 

So I love Amber's Hey It's Okay linky, it reminds me to be chilled for, oh, at least ten minutes a week.

It's okay to......

.... like purple Powerade, which means I frequently can be found at ballet lessons sporting a stunning purple tongue. 

.... pretend this is the ONLY reason the ballet mummies look at me funny.

..... believe in the chance of winning the lottery as a way of keeping my sanity.

.... forget to write a letter to WonderMan all week.

.... count the days until our big move and frequently freak out over how little I have done vs the amount of time left to do it in.

.... be a little pissed that not one of my friends (other than one who is booked up) have offered to babysit Frog for a lousy 3 hours while I work one Saturday morning. Yet I would move heaven and earth to help them if they were stuck like this.

.... vow never to help out another person in this damn place ever again.

.... admit I like part numbers, and cataloging, even I am working for my parents for free. I'm good with numbers, and motorbike bits. Just don't ask me to actually BUILD one.

.... eat a punnet of strawberries for lunch. They're healthy right? And soooo yummy!

.... wish they were choc mint cake pops.

Mmmmmm..... cake pops.......

Hey It's Okay!

Seriously glad I have HIOKTuesday to keep me occupied today, because there are so many things to be said, so jumbled and messy in my head, and that's not even including the things I'm not allowed to say at the moment....

SO a very big virtual thankyou hug goes out to Amber @ Airing My Dirty Laundry for Hey It's Okay Tuesday!



I love her because she named her daughter Natalie. Could she have any more style?

Today I'm struggling to be okay about anything much.

So #1 on the list today:

It's okay to order a third mocha because everyone knows great coffee is essential to great blogging.

It's okay to keep justifying my mocha obsession this way because it means I get to my free coffee quicker. And then I can tell WonderMan it was FREE. Which is not technically a lie.

It's okay to go out claiming I have done housework, even if all I have done is made the beds.

It's okay to do all the rest of the housework at 9pm tonight because I have a rental inspection tomorrow.

And it's definitely okay to justify this by claiming the kids would have messed it up anyway.

It's okay to be dreaming of packing boxes and moving trucks, and foreign countries with better shopping. It makes a change from drive by shootings and petrol bombs....

It's okay to wonder if it really is necessary to finish the year in this god forsaken hick town.

And it's probably okay to question the logic of it being "better for the kids", or more stable, or whatever stupid thing we said to make the decision seem right.

It's okay to want to shout at everyone because I've done what's bloody right, and what needed to be done for the safety of the most innocent of lives.

And right now it's okay to be petrified to be out of my house, but to be here anyway because I WILL NOT allow anyone to threaten me.

It's okay to snigger at the girl who took my old job because she seems to think white tracksuits with chandelier earrings are the height of fashion...

It's definitely okay to do this while standing behind her in line to order my third mocha.

In fact, I don't really care if it's okay or not, I don't like her.

And I'm okay with that too.

Also joining with Diary of a SAHM for IBOT, for the first time!

Hey, It's Okay!

Linking with The Whispering Writer for Hey It's Okay Tuesday!

 

 It's okay:

To avoid Facebook now that's it's changed again. I can't find anything, nothing is in order, and I keep missing important stuff because "Facebook doesn't think I will find it interesting".

To try to attach hastags to everything I type because I've discovered how cool Twitter is. #hashtags = #awesome.

To avoid shifting most of our stuff by having a garage sale and visiting Ikea on our way though the city with the moving truck. SMART.

To really be doing this because I'm sick and tired of my crappy old furniture and it depresses me when I look at lovely houses to rent and then imagine my yukky, seriously second hand, so odd it can't even be called ecclectic furniture in them. Yuk.

To have never visited Ikea but already be addicted to it. I may melt from the excitement of my first visit.

To still be cranky about dog hair in my laundry because $1000 dog has been upgraded to an indoor suite post hip operation.

To get a cleaner because WonderMan is about to go away until the new year... and if I have to do the dishes myself there is no way NO WAY I will be able to cope without some form of help.

To ask the cleaner if she does dishes.

To aboslutely and completely loathe dishes.

To put a dishwasher on my house hunting list.

To consider eating my daily calorie intake as m&m's as long as I don't go over.

To accompany my m&m's with a suitable wine.

To hate people who don't drive according to the road rules. How on earth do 99% of people in this country get their licence?

Marking time

I haven't been blogging very long.

In fact, I think I will have just celebrated my 1st bloggy birthday when I attend DPCON12, meaning it is fate and I must go or the world will end.

But when I started I had so much to say. So many ideas, thoughts, laughs at life.

They seem to have disappeared.

Part of the problem was that a couple of months into my cyberspace adventure Dinoputer died and I waited TEN WHOLE WEEKS for a new netbook to arrive.

I fell out of my bloggy groove and can't find it again. Instead I feel like I'm sailing across the wake of the Titanic.

So what's going on? Am I not cut out for this? Why am I no good at stuff?

I considered these questions very carefully and then my ego said "Hello? How can you NOT be awesome? You are asking the wrong questions my dear."

So I asked a better one - why can't I find my flow anymore?

Because I'm marking time.

Waiting for that moving day to arrive.

Waiting for my escape from this crazy hicktown.

Waiting until the day I no longer have to say "I live here."

Waiting for the beginning of the road to somewhere, instead of banging my head against the brick wall of this stupid community.

A community that I was born into, but I no longer love.

My feelings have been showing here. Oh so clearly, if only I had taken the time to notice.

Every second post is a big freaky emo rant.

My schedule has gone out the window, and even though I'm one for a bit of creative licence and randomness.... there has to be some kind of structure or everything just falls down.

On the days when WonderMan is home I haven't been posting at all.

I don't even KNOW why this has an effect. It never has before.

If you looked around my home you would think that I just don't care, or I'm too exhausted to care. Most days it's a mixture of both.

I don't want to be cleaning it. I want to be packing it. In boxes. On a truck that is going somewhere else.

If someone had pulled a truck up to my front door today I would have hurled everything in and driven away in an hour flat.

I can't stand life here anymore.

I. Want. Out.

And I know we are getting out.

But the waiting is killing me.

I'm counting weeks and days until I move.

I'm counting hours until WonderMan leaves to start work up north. And not because I want him to go, but because it will all finally seem real.

I will allow myself the chance to hope.

I mentioned my lack of direction to WonderMan tonight.

And he told me to write about it. To give myself some way of tracking our progress towards that Brand New Day.

A before and after, as he put it.

WELL D'UH! Why didn't I think of that?

Because sometimes you can't see the forest for the trees.

Because I am so kicked down by everything around me that sometimes I forget to look up.

Because he may be young, but by gods he's wise.

I will be checking in to let you know how I'm going - with the organising, the waiting, the dramas of solo parenting my way through the next few weeks and months.

Hopefully with a bit more direction, and a few more laughs.

Because one thing I've always been able to do is laugh, even if it means people do give me strange looks.

The countdown is on.