When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)?
Even as a person in their early-thirties, I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up…
When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)?
Even as a person in their early-thirties, I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up…
If you could permanently get rid of one worry, what would it be?
If I could get rid of one worry, it would be financial worries.
Back on January 21st, we asked you to predict what day #211 would be like. Well, July 30th is that day — how have your predictions held up so far? If you didn’t reply to the prompt at the time, is this year turning out to be as you’d expected?
Link to Daily Prompt – Predictions
Well as predicted, it was payday, and I certainly paid all my bills, and my rent and now I’m broke for the rest of the fortnight.
However, that was really the only really accurate prediction. I didn’t get a day off, nor was I in the city killing time before gym. Although I did actually go to the gym, but it was to do my rehab exercises instead of doing a class. I haven’t done a class for seven weeks and it’s driving me cray-cray.
I did however manage to write a truck load of posts, although in saying that I’m still trying to catch up, and sometimes I wonder if I actually will catch up, or will I always be stuck with a backlog of posts to write?
What are your thoughts on aging? How will you stay young at heart as you get older?
The thought of getting older is actually something that secretly terrifies me. I find that when I start thinking about it, I get a bit obsessed about it.
I feel as though I’ve been robbed of a life of enjoyment. Life has robbed me of the opportunities to do the sort of things that you’re supposed to do in certain age groups.
For example, when I was in my late teens, all I wanted was to study dance and pursue that as a career. That didn’t happen because of a spinal injury.
In my Twenties, those are the years that you’re supposed to be travelling the world; working overseas; finding yourself etc etc etc. Well, I guess I managed to find myself. The other two – that didn’t happen. Whilst other friends of mine were off getting dance contracts on Cruise Ships, I was stuck in an office cubicle, feeling miserable and being bullied by my employer to the point of having a small nervous breakdown.
In my mid-twenties, other people were working hard and saving for house deposits – I on the other hand was too busy struggling to be able to pay my rent, buy groceries and pay my bills. I was caught up in being Miss Independent, and dealing with an absolutely clusterfuck of a relationship that pretty much destroyed me mentally and emotionally.
By the time I had reached my late twenties, I still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that I was already in my late-twenties. Thirty was rapidly approaching, and it was approaching at a speed that I just wasn’t prepared for. People were getting married and having kids, and buying cars and houses, and here I was renting a shitty apartment with Hulk, trying to determine what our future had in store for us. Everybody around us was travelling overseas – but it was constant. Somebody was just coming back from overseas, and planning their next trip. As they were coming back, other people were getting ready to leave. Sometimes it was a week here or there, or going for two / three / four weeks at a time. I couldn’t wrap my head around how these people were able to afford to do so.
Then it clicked. Money. Management. The one thing that I simply cannot do.
Now that I’m in my early thirties, I still feel lost and confused. Part of me is telling me that I should be doing responsible things like saving for a house deposit. Or saving for a trip overseas. One of my friends is over in Europe for a few weeks. Other friends of ours are in the U.S. for a few weeks. One of my co-workers has just left to go to New York for three weeks. Another co-worker is going overseas for two or three months later in the year. I just find it so depressing.
I still don’t even know what I want to be when I grow up. There’s certainly a lot that I dream about achieving, but getting it to actually happen is a completely different story. I don’t want to be one of those people who is stuck in the same job for twenty years, but I realised that I’ve already been in my job for (I think) ten years already.
If that’s the case… where was my fucking celebration cake? Probably because it’s not the sort of achievement that should be celebrated. Oh congratulations. You’ve failed at life so epically, you’ve achieved absolutely nothing, and are basically more than happy to just settle with a shitty job that doesn’t fulfill you for ten years. *slow claps* well done, loser. What a role model!!
So even though I may get older in age, I still feel young at heart. I still love my video games, in particular, LEGO ones. I love going to the movies. I love going to concerts. I’ve pretty much lost all interest in going out, simply because the ‘scene’ nowadays has totally changed.
…Oh god, I just used the terms ‘nowadays’. Just call me grandpa.
I still buy cool clothes and shoes, but at the end of the day, it’s just stuff. It’s not a house. It’s not a car. It’s not a trip overseas. I really should focus on achieving those.
…but maybe I’ll think about that after the LEGO Movie Game comes out on PS3 next week. hehehe.
If you’re like most of us, you need to earn money by working for a living. Describe your ultimate job. If you’re in your dream job, tell us all about it — what is it that you love? What fulfills you? If you’re not in your dream job, describe for us what your ultimate job would be.
Well, this dream job has changed so many times over the years.
When I was a kid, I wanted to be a Pilot. Then for the next 20 or so years I just wanted to be a dancer. As I got older I thought about working in I.T. but that was soon short lived. I thought about becoming a massage therapist. At the moment I have full-time job, but it doesn’t fulfil me. I am however in the process of looking at potential study of a course which I can do through work, which will give me an internationally recognised certification. That could then take me further study, and potentially a much more interesting kind of role.
Truth be told, I never went to university (college). When I finished high-school I went to TAFE to study I.T. but it became a really boring course as there was no actual challenge to any of the tasks we had to complete. But the worst part was that we weren’t allowed to get ahead of the rest of the class. Granted, I could have quite easily finished the entire course content in about two weeks, but the coordinators said no, as it would be unfair to the others in the class. Instead, I decided to take on a Cert III course as well in I.T. and that was slightly more interesting in concept. However, I became involved in a musical theatre production and missed, all-up, about three months of classes. At the end of the year, I still managed to hand in all my assignments etc all at once, and they refused to accept it for marking – so although I did complete all assessable tasks, and handed them in. They refused to accept and acknowledge it. Bastards. I normally would have fought it to be upheld, but I didn’t because I didn’t know any better so essentially I flunked out of the course. Which is even worse.
But that was so many years ago, and it’s now 2014, and well, let’s face it, I’m 31 and I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. I lack focus and direction. Part of me dreams about becoming a writer, and then being a special guest on shows like Kathy or Chelsea Lately. Or perhaps writing a novel or two. Or becoming a massage therapist. Part of me still wants to go back and study I.T. – but I think that’s only because I see it as unfinished business.
Ideally, I just want to be paid money for doing not very much.
But then I think, maybe it’s the location? Maybe I need to go live somewhere else? Maybe I need to be amongst the hustle and bustle of a place like L.A. or New York perhaps? But in order to do that, one requires a substantial amount of cash to get themselves set up over there, and you can only get cash from a job… and I have a job, it’s just not my ideal job, but hey, it’s paying my bills. So I guess that just gives me more time to dream…
“Courage is grace under pressure” is a famous quotation by Ernest Hemingway. Tell us about a personal moment of your grace under pressure.
Personally, I find it hard to exude grace under pressure when you’re a Scorpio. I don’t do grace. I just get revenge. I’m the person that you don’t want to cross, because I’ll go out of my way to take you down.
Sidenote: the reality is, I sound scary, but I’m really not…
When I’m under pressure, I’m trying to keep it all together, and / or I’m ready to cut a bitch.
I remember one particular time when I was living in a share house with a couple of girls, I was away at my friends place, and was informed that my current housemates, both girls (and closeted lesbians), had both decided to move out whilst I was away, and not tell me.
This information came from a mutual friend of ours who thought that what they were planning was just plain nasty.
She then followed up that bombshell with ‘…and I think they’ve trashed your room too…’. She couldn’t give me any further information because she’d only heard them make passing comments about it, but didn’t question them. She just knew that something was up.
I had to go home. I had to confront these bitches about what I’d been told and whether or not it was correct.
I returned home and they were gone. Both their bedrooms were half-empty, and then I opened the door to my room.
The smell was… I can’t even… It was like the smell from the rubbish at the local markets that’s been sitting in the hot summer sun for a week. Ironically, it was the middle of summer, and all my blinds had been left open, so my room was like a hotbox.
It was completely trashed. All my clothes had been pulled down, and strewn all across the floor, along with all my other belongings. It was like the room had been burgled, without anything actually being taken. But the smell, oh dear god, the smell…
The worst part was, that no matter how much air freshener I sprayed, it didn’t go away. It was still there. It was so overpowering. As I started to clean my room up, I still couldn’t find the source of the smell. Not being able to find the source of the horrendous stench of death started to drive me crazy… a couple of hours later I started to discover them… piece by smelly piece.
The first was the opened meat that they so graciously left in the pockets of my jackets, and inside my shoes. Because I kept my shoes on a shoe rack under the window, they were in the heat constantly.
That was lovely. And seeing as how I was the only one who actually ate meat, I knew it was mine. They would have put it in there whilst it was frozen, and then let it defrost in the heat. Hence, I ended up with several pairs of ruined shoes.
Then there was the rotten vegetables. They were put in amongst my socks and jocks drawer. They sprayed my doona with tuna juice, and then put the doona cover back on it!! I found some chunks of tuna amongst my shorts… at least they used the whole tin…!! The pinnacle of it all was finding a watermelon throughout my bed. Chunks of it had been put under my pillows, and then the rest was just left in the cling-wrap and left under my bed.
I literally couldn’t believe what they had done. I was beside myself. Nobody deserves anything like that – they had gone too far, and I wasn’t having it.
I’m not going to say that we didn’t have any issues prior to this happening. We’d been having some heated conversations about general things, like them not paying bills on time, but getting angry at me when I don’t pay on time – which wasn’t a regular occurrence. I’d get angry at them for not paying rent on time, and because I was the main contact, I was the one who copped the abusive phone call from the real estate agent as a result.
They had spoken about the two of them moving out and getting their own place together. I was upset by this, but reminded them that they had a few months left on the lease, and if they wanted to break the lease, they would have to find replacement housemates – that’s generally the rule of how things work in sharehouses.
After that, we were fine. I went on holidays thinking that we were all good… evidently I was wrong.
So when I returned home to find this… I honestly didn’t know what to do because I so full of sheer rage.
I figured that there was only one way to deal with these bitches… and that was to play their own game.
I sent both their parents photos letters with photos of the damage they had caused. I also filed a report with the police for damage of personal property, and sent the bill estimates for having things replaced, cleaned and / or repaired, to their parents as well. I also notified the real estate agent and told them about what the girls had done, as they had also caused damage to the property as a result of their actions.
Now, I had met both their parents, and developed a great rapport with both of them, so naturally they were both beside themselves when they saw the photos of the damage they had caused. One of the mothers was so disgusted by it, that she called the mother of the other girl, and they both agreed to pay half each to compensate me, which I was quite surprised by, and was very grateful for. In the end I used both their bond money to pay for the cleaning of the carpets. Sorry bitches.
Sure enough, I get a rather abusive phone call from one of the girls, going on about how dare I contact her parents, and embarrass her the way that I did, and that I had no right to send them a bill for the damage. At that point I informed them that I had filed a police report, and if they continued, I’ll be adding harassment to it as well. I also informed her that I had told their parents about the police report as well.
I may have ‘accidentally’ told the very strict catholic mother of one of the girls, that she was now actually dating the other girl, and the reason they moved out, was so they could get their own place together and further develop their relationship together.
That didn’t necessarily seem to go down too well either. oops.
After my discussion with the real estate agent, and the police, I didn’t file charges because their parents had compensated me for the damage of my property, but that didn’t stop me from giving a copy of the report, along with the photos to the real estate agent and the tenancy tribunal to have a black mark put against their name.
For some strange reason, they weren’t able to move in to their new love shack. And they couldn’t seem to get approval for any other places either, resulting in them both moving back in with their parents.
The best part was the phone call I got from one of them, acting as though nothing had happened and that we were best friends. I playfully went along with it, giving her a false sense of security. The highlight was her telling me her sob story about having to move in with her parents, and she hated it, and she couldn’t spend time with her girlfriend because they lived in different towns… and would it be possible for them to move back in with me, if I hadn’t already found new housemates.
Oh, it was absolute heaven. I quite calmly basically told her to go fuck herself, and send my regards to her mother, who had called me previously to see if I was okay.
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