frantically searching
spoilt for choice of slums to rent
damn frikken Feb Fast

At least not for February.  I’d been reflecting on my Summer of beer for a few weeks now and feeling a bit lardy about the whole affair.  So when I read about Feb Fast, giving up the booze during the shortest month of the year for charity, I thought ‘I can do that!’.  Hence on the weekend I gave the beers one last nudge for good measure.  Even though it was blisteringly hot I couldn’t finish my third beer and instead tipped it down the sink.  I think my body was saying no well before my head.  And today my head is screaming, just in case I couldn’t work it all out for myself!

IMG_0229Since I’ve come back from Bali I’ve noticed lots of things have changed. Some consciously, but many just as a result of having a decent change of scene.  Something I highly recommend for anyone stuck in a rut or generally just o-v-a-h everything. For starters I’ve kicked the daily hefty peanut butter toast habit I’d previously been powerless to deny and haven’t been eating as much sweet stuff or downing gallons of coffee each day either. On a more esoteric note though, I am more appreciative of the little things and less bothered by previously annoying things too. For example, I appreciate footpaths that are clean and kept in good order as well as working and abundant street lights! I also am far less bothered by bad drivers, heavy traffic and general ignorance of others. Although I do get a huge kick out of the 15km bumper-to-bumper traffic jam travelling in the opposite direction to me each morning as I make my way to work!

harden upSelf perception of body image can be a fickle old thing.  I have no idea what I weigh as I don’t own any scales.  I’m not trying to be all girl-power about my physique, I just can’t be arsed.  I don’t even own a decent full length mirror so I’ve no idea if my bum is growing or not.  For the longest time I’ve also had trouble with my appetite, or lack thereof.  Without boring you with the details I found I’ve had to snack on what I can when I feel up to it.  This has often meant good nutrition has, sadly, gone right out the window.  Lately I’ve been telling myself that my morning ritual of peanut butter toast is just going to end in tears, sooner or later.  So it was no surprise to see some photos of me recently (I’m normally behind the lense) and think, “you’ve done it and gone and turned into a fat bastard”.  A few days later when I was wearing some now baggy old clothes that used to fit quite snuggly I found myself giving my ego a stern talking to in the room of mirrors.  It went something like, “get a grip, your belt has gone in five notches, you’re not fat”.  Even so, it was a timely reminder to try and eat in a more balanced manner but more importantly to just enjoy the here and now.

AwwwwSo is rain, hour, move and pain.  All of which I have experienced over the weekend.  After what seems like forever I’ve FINALLY found somewhere to live.  I’ve managed to move half my stuff as I write and can’t wait to get to know my new neighbourhood on the city fringe.  There is a huge park around the corner for my dogs, a tram to work just up the road and a very inviting pub back on the other corner all calling my name!  Then there’s the bakery, cafes, boutiques and vet surgery all a brisk walk away.  What’s not to love?  This feels good, really good. I just can’t wait to get settled under my new roof and sleep away the pain of moving for hours.  Ahhh, bliss…

Beach Shacks BlairgowrieSearching for a home sucks.  I almost put blind faith in the Universe yesterday, but my gut told me not to.  I’ve spent countless hours trawling websites for share accommodation to try and find somewhere decent to live.   I’ve discarded ads that use words like ‘unreal’ to describe their abode, or describe themselves as ‘chillin’ kind of people and greet potential housemates via an all inclusive ‘hello people’.  Petty, I know, but it feels wrong in my gut.  But as the weeks have dragged by and I’m still empty handed I’ve progressively lowered my champagne tastes to align with my beer wages in an attempt to find something quickly.  This very fact nearly landed me in hot water yesterday.

One website brings flat’ees and flat’ers together in perfect harmony and regularly emails suggested matches to either party.  So it wasn’t unusual to receive an offer of a place on the city fringe via direct email last week.  A bit of too-ing and fro-ing later and I couldn’t believe my luck to be on the verge of securing such a tastefully furnished place in a great location going so cheap.  To cut a long story short, I was getting even more suspicious as quite a few additional and important questions I had were being skirted around.  So before I threw caution to the wind and took a gamble on blind faith I decided to google this charming young chap’s name, he did send me a scan of his passport in good faith after all.  Imagine my surprise when it came up on a long list of internationally renowned rental scammers.  And so Mr Jeffrey Pride Caulum, I flip you the bird and continue my search with new eyes wide open!

From now on I am always listening to my gut.  Oooh, now it’s rumbling, must dash.

Too tightI googled song titles on ‘letting go’ for this post and couldn’t decide between the saccharine country music spleen venting or death metal sentimental ballads.  Regardless, I think the hardest part of letting go of anything is actually committing to it.  Recently I let go of something I had been holding on to very tightly.  Too tightly in fact, for far too long. 

I know I’ve finally successfully let go of it because every now and then when I think about it I feel nothing.  Not a pang, not a twinge, nothing.  Nada, zip, zero.  And it feels great!