I need to keep giving myself pep talks to get stuff done. Like “don’t be a pussy and get in there and get that uni work done” that kind of thing.
So, I thought I would give everyone a round up of ways to keep productive from what I can see everyone else doing on instagram:
Creating and cultivating a sourdough starter
Baking perfect loaves of bread
Beard trimming
Learning a new musical instrument – how fun for your neighbours!
Learn sign language
Learning a new language
Cleaning and decluttering
Painting and general home maintenance
Home school organisation to rival the coordination of a military during wartime
Turning said children into child prodigies. E.g. Doogie Howser MD.
Now so that the REAL people don’t feel bad. It’s all about average at my place, welcome in all underachievers. This is an example of my last few days:
Pouring coffee into cocoa pops as a lunch alternative
Eating an entire wheel of brie without crackers cos I ran out
Getting dressed after 2 pm
Bribing myself with easter eggs to get uni work done
Working out which milk gives the froth in a Nespresso
Getting rid of an ingrown pube
Having a shower
Waking up
Making cat noises at the dog next door
Making as many weird and ugly faces during the family zoom meeting as possible
Work
You’re welcome!
This is a VERY accurate description of my life right now. Trackie dacks TICK, Bottles and Cans TICK, papers everywhere TICK, eating cereal from a mixing bowl….TICK.
This is a story about the dark overlords of the world wide web.
There was once a little company called Telecom which provided Australia with all its phone call and communicational needs. It was owned by the government and provided its services really quite cheaply, then it was sold off allegedly to the ‘Australian people’, but really to other really rich media magnates who then hiked up prices and provided a really shitty service to its customers. 10 years ago the leaders monkeys of our country decided that we don’t need high speed anything and started building the NBN (National Broadband Network) with lego blocks. It is still being built, as apparently the future of data is via the ground and through cables, this has to be manually installed into each home and paid for by each homeowner even though it doesn’t work very well and the infrastructure is now 10 years old.
Like everyone else on the planet right now, life currently revolves around the internet. I am chewing through data at a rate of around 1000GB per day. Work, uni, TV all rely on data.
Right now, my internet is currently switched off, due to the fact that the NBN is rolling through town and the suburb is in internet limbo. ADSL (which was shit anyway) switched off, NBN not connected yet. This leaves me with one current option. 4G. Hotspotting off my two mobile phones each day. Balancing the allocated data by the hour. TV is only free to air or good old fashioned DVD’s (which I recently gave at least half to the Salvation Army).
All uni work is online now, meaning that I am chewing through my pitiful 4G allowance faster than I should. Telstra are going to charge me $10 per GB once I run out. Way to help Telstra.
I’m annoyed that the NBN install has disrupted my internet on and off for 6 weeks now.
I’m annoyed that even when my ADSL was working it’s was so overloaded that it takes 23 minutes to load just one 25 minute episode on Apple TV.
I’m annoyed that even though I ordered a 4G hotspot via Vodafone with 100GB per month that I have no idea when it will arrive because the tracking of orders on the Vodafone website isn’t working and it keeps asking me to ring customer service.
I’m annoyed that I ring customer service there is nobody to answer my calls. I am currently at 138 minutes on hold and counting. Please use the website to track your order.
I am annoyed at myself that I only just read their website COVID-19 section which says that the government in India has closed their call centre.
I am annoyed that uni is now all online. I don’t know how to catch up on the practicals that I have now missed because I am an external student. The lecturer is not responding to emails and the online chat has no responses either.
I am still sleeping a lot. Please see my previous post below.
We are not even in lockdown yet. Send help and wifi.
Towards the end of last year, I wrote about how I find many MAMB’s (Middle Aged Man Babies) highly annoying. You can read about it here. Due to popular demand (ok 1 person asked) I am bringing back the middle aged man babies and I am getting into specifics. Middle Aged Man Babies in the office.
Before I start I want to preface this by saying that this is not related to any specific person/office/company/moment in time, Of course not all middle aged men are man babies #notallmen and all of that, some of them I actually like! This list is but a collection of a lifetime’s worth of experience tid bits. All opinions are my own also please don’t sue me. Again.
So let’s start….
The modern day office is often crawling with the MAMB. See what I did there….crawling/man baby? Ok I guess if you have to explain the joke then it’s probably not that funny. Workplaces everywhere are literally filled with MAMB’s. Chockers. Here below lies just a few of the many examples found In offices all over the world.
Given Up On Life Guy:
He’s got a classic Dad bod, all gut and no butt. Often seen wearing the 1 work issued polo shirt 5 days per week. Eats all the fried food at lunch because he has eaten his wife’s lovely home made left overs by about 10am. May also be seen going for far far too long between haircuts.
Restless Legs Guy:
Quite often the leg is found bouncing in your peripheral vision. Absolutely fucking annoying.
The “I’ll take credit for your work” Guy:
This one should be self explanatory, but I once had someone more senior to me take the report that I had just completed and then in front of me give it to the site manager and used the phrase “I just completed this report for you”, I was standing right in front of him, he was so arrogant that he didn’t even wait until it he was behind my back. You better bet your bottom dollar that I called him out on it right in front of the site manager, “Oh, you did that report did you?” to which he explained to the manager that it was indeed my work and a simple slip of the tongue on his behalf. After the conversation had finished he finished with “You should be flattered, I don’t do that to everyone.”
The Old Boys Club Guy:
Not because of my actual skills, just because I’m one of the boys club. This one is often seen in politics. A good example is Anthony Albanese, who was promoted to lead the labour party after the boys club in the labour party all voted for him because “It was his turn”. What exactly has he done since being in opposition? Nothing. Just criticised the government with a number of “No shit Sherlock” moments. Why is he not proposing a range of alternate labour policies? Why is he not committing to actual targets/goals if he was in government? Because it’s just his turn. The truth is I am far more a labour voter than liberal but he is not giving me much confidence there would be any real change.
Nickname Guy:
Case in point: ScoMo. Scotty from Marketing. He could also be added into the boys club promoted me to the top guy (see above).
Bluetool Guy:
The guy with the black bluetooth headset from 2011 or now also incorporates the apple airpods (™, C) who walks around the office looking really cool not having to hold his phone up to his ear.
Speakerphone Guy:
Also known as the: I am so important everyone can hear my conversation, because holding your phone out in front of your mouth looks way cooler than holding a phone up to your ear.
Super Young Super Overprivileged Guy:
Often seen in the CEO’s office as he has been gifted the company by his parents. Also seen at his 5 year reunion for a very privileged private boys boarding school (which he boarded at even though his parent live around the corner from school). Won’t be seen: without his Mercedes/BMW/Audi Convertible nor without an unbotoxed girlfriend.
I Need My Own Office Guy:
This is normally a dude that is not quite at the top of the company but thinks he should be. He is usually far enough up to be able to utter the words “Make it happen”, when literally everybody in the company is hot desking or working in an open plan arrangement, this guy needs to take over a meeting room to turn it into his own personal office.
Have you got any office man-baby stories? Are you a middle aged man and think I’m being a bit harsh? Should I start a middle aged lady baby series? Comments always welcome!
Once upon a time there was a man named Steve. He went to work each day wearing the same outfit of a black turtleneck and jeans. He couldn’t be bothered with fashionny things because he was busy building computers and music players and mobile phones and making the Apple corporation what it is today. His lack of fashion became kind of a signature.
A couple of years ago, I thought I would try something similar. I wore the same minimalist wardrobe each day, comprised mainly of black. What this meant was that everyone thought I was wearing the same clothes every day. That was, until I was asked to stop looking ‘shabby’ and to ‘take some pride in my appearance’ and ‘put on a bit of makeup’. I think the clincher was the white deodorant I had neglected to remove off the bottom edge of my black shirt. OMG THE HORROR! PEOPLE KNOWING I WEAR DEODORANT. I politely nodded and smiled and left the room and did not stop crying for at least 2 days. Mortified.
I wonder if the blokes would have been given the same ‘feedback’?
As I sit here, writing with my greasy hair held together with dry shampoo, I probably don’t need to mention that I love a bit of scruff. Whilst my plan for world domination via a lack of fashion didn’t pan out, in other areas of our lives a bit of scruff can actually work in your favour.
Personally, I don’t feel comfortable walking into a house that is either fastidiously clean and tidy or worse, has been cleaned up just for me.
I also worry if you are going to clean the house just as fastidiously after I leave, having soiled your space with my germy presence.
Pinterest perfection is a little intimidating and to be honest scary. I want people to feel welcome, and I want to feel at home in others houses.
My house is not perfect. If you are coming over I will make it at least look presentable, pick up my undies off the floor, remove the washing pile from the dining room table, check the toilets are clean and give them any required spruce up, ensure there is soap and a hand towel. The space is lived in. I am living in it. But I am not perfect, I don’t want anyone to think I am perfect and my home looks the same.
I rarely invite people over as I am scared of being judged by my scruffiness. My furniture is mismatched, my floor sometimes has a tumbleweed of dust, I rarely make my bed. But with a bit of effort it wouldn’t take much to be able to be happy with people coming over.
After all, aren’t we all in your place or my place together to enjoy each other’s company and share good conversation and each other’s company?
What about you? Do you have a perfect home? Ever been caught with deodorant on your shirt?
Adulting is hard? Let’s not beat around the bush. It f*cking sucks.
When you are awoken on Monday by the sound of your toilet gurgling up someone else’s month-old butt nuggets you know the week isn’t going to go well.
Whilst it’s great to be able to eat doughnuts for dinner. Adulting really is bullshit. When you are a child you can’t wait to be an adult. Like most things in life, when the grass is greener it’s normally fertilised with excrement. Paying bills, keeping yourself alive, keeping the kids, pets plants alive, registering cars, keeping yourself employed, finding ‘me’ time, exercise, cleaning all the things. Exhausting.
On Tuesday I dinged the mirror on my car (it’s first scrape) trying to reverse into my garage. Then, as I was getting my groceries out not 30 seconds later, I slammed the boot door down on my own head so hard the egg-shaped bruise could be seen from space. Name someone, anyone who can injure their own selves with their own car whilst not driving it. I’ll wait……..
Hey, Siri, can you give yourself a “concrussion”?
Wednesday brought with it the usual frustrations of trying to pay for something and having your card declined “Oh wait sorry I’ll just transfer some money across”…
I lost a great handbag too, a nectarine (God may she rest in peace), decided to end her life at the bottom of my bag. She died a horrible, slow, painful death being smooshed into the crevices of my laptop, my phone, stabbed by some pens, before eventually losing her fight against the forces above and below. I haven’t seen fruit in such bad shape since the end of summer 6 week school holidays between year 7 and year 8. Red delicious apple. Mould got that one. RIP Apple.
On Thursday, I realised that the headache I had since my car decided to exact revenge on my head, along with the trembling hands and kind of weird pasty feeling in my face was actually not concussion, but fucking drug withdrawals because I haven’t taken my anxiety medication for two weeks. Like, how much of an addict am I?
Fast forward to today which started with a strongly worded formal-looking letter from a lawyer. Can’t discuss, but don’t worry all OK. I most likely won’t go to prison. But if I do I will continue writing this blog, albeit by hand and snail-mail.
Life, in general, seems to be one massive clusterf*ck of anti-adulting moments.
Am I right? Can I get an amen? And another nectarine?
What a way to start the year… Crying. Look in my defense most of Australia were crying and I kept being shown pictures of burnt baby animals and not even baby animals and look here I am getting upset again. I cried at work – what’s new? I cried again looking at images of the children of lost firefighters.
Our country is burning, there are literally thousands of different charities and causes and people and animals that NEED us, and I don’t know about you but I am so confused about what to do and who to give to.
The world seems to be focussed on us as a people and as a country. Are we failing? I feel like our people aren’t failing but our leaders are. People are slowly getting it and are showing up for each other while our leaders are focussed on money. Our country is literally dying in front of them. It makes me so angry. It seems that the men with the biggest ego are voted into power and given the biggest responsibilities whilst ethics, values, competence and accomplishment are no longer valued.
In other news, The new year slid into my life like people slide into my DM’s. OK nobody slides into my DM’s (direct messages). I’ve been listening to podcasts while trying to stay away from social media and the news.
According to the podcast world, we all need an inspirational word that we can internally channel for the year to set the intentions and manifest the world ahead. Can you feel my *eye-roll* through the interwebs? I’m talking words like; “Self, energy, inspire, positivity, gratitude, present, create, brave, fierce, soar, embrace, impact, release”.
Suffice to say, I think having a word of the year is complete bullshit. I didn’t have a word for 2019 and it turned out pretty well (Read about it here). But I do have goals and things I want to do, enjoy and achieve.
Complete at least 4 subjects of my Masters…and pass
Stay out of prison, stay employed, stay hydrated. (OK that last one’s a joke kind of not really)
Prioritise mental health
Hike at least 500km
Sort out and consolidate my myriad of super funds
Adventure in the South Island of New Zealand in March
See Ben Folds with Sydney Symphony and Queensland Symphony Orchestras also in March
How are you going? How are you dealing with this chaos? What are you looking forward to?
