Execution Time

Thanks to some hard-fought overtime I am back on top of my finances again, and let me tell you: damn it feels good. I didn’t do a great deal of OT but just enough to make a sizeable dent in the overdraft I had accumulated such that it basically evaporated when put under any further scrutiny, and if that’s all it takes then that is good enough for me. All I’ve gotta do now is try to avoid spending the buffer I have created in its entirety over the weekend and everything should be right as rain again! One can only hope.

I had pizza for dinner and it sucked, I’m not gonna mince words here. My (current) favourite pizza place made it but when it was finally delivered to me it was half-cold and the cheese had fused and it felt like half the topics were missing so like, whatever man. Another cheat day wasted! I also had to screw the cat out of half her weekly can of wet food because ants had taken up residence in her bowl and she didn’t want to eat around them so I’m gonna buy her another can tomorrow or Monday to make it up to her. Also also I ran out of strawberries before I even got to dessert but somehow still have like a quarter of a tub of chocolate dipping sauce that I seem to have owned for the last six months which will just not go away no matter how many damn strawberries I eat. Also also also I seem to have gained a kilo, so like, fuck me I can’t even win. Basically, taken as a whole it was a fairly ordinary Thursday night/cheat day experience but hey – can’t win em all right? I feel worse for the cat than I do myself.

Hot shower, sleepy/anti-kill-myself pills, then bed. Solid plan Molly, B+.

Moving On (a dumb post)

It’s a huge deal for me to stop doing something. I am obnoxious about sticking to patterns and well-worn habits to the point that it might classify as some kind of syndrome, so breaking one is hard for me, even if it is one I do not particularly like. This can be anything, from quitting smoking (I worried incessantly about what it would say about me to not be the bitch who smoked a pack of cigarettes in three hours anymore) to stopping eating a restaurant (RIP Pizza Capers Sunnybank) or even something as dumb and innocuous as ceasing to visit a website that no longer really interests me (foreshadowing!). This is in contrast to my almost supernatural ability to just throw shit out without even caring about the consequences; I can remove an item from my life without even considering it but a habit? Shit son, now we’re getting real.

That is the long way of saying that today I unsubscribed from Jezebel. My path to Jezebel was loopy and as a website it totally shaped my version of feminism and the way I interacted with the world, but like, lately it had just lost its hold on me. I’m not sure of the exact reasoning or the precise moment my loyalty to their site failed, but it certainly didn’t help that in the last few months like, all of my favourite writers for the place abandoned ship. Those who remained and those who replaced them didn’t speak to me in the same way at all (the place has almost become cynical and bitter???) and I was left looking at my feed reader and the dozens of articles they had regurgitated at me over the day and feeling tired. Just like I had with Boing Boing and Daring Fireball and Cockeyed before them.

I kind of wrestled with the idea of unsubbing from them for days before I did – again, I’ve gotta reiterate that I am intensely habitual – but after marking all as read sight unseen for the fifth day in a row I figured that it was about time, so I did it, and as expected it felt like a complete and utter anti-climax, just like it had every time I’d put myself in that situation before. I’m not sure what I expected, I mean it is not like I am making any real massive life change here, and it is not like anyone at the site will notice or care or give a fuck at all. But regardless, Jezebel was a huge thing for me, it shaped me and it was one of the websites I threw myself into after my big breakup almost two years ago (has it really been two years?) and it just feels like something should commemorate this moment, this severing of old ties. So I wrote a post about it.

Goodbye Jezebel.

i could really go some doritos but

WORDS. Ugh. So tired I could die. Or sleep forever, I guess, if you’re my mum and you take exception to the fast and loose relationship I have with death imagery. I’m just a mildly gothic, very morbid 25 year old woman with a tongue as toxic and evil as my imagination is infinite and beautiful mum! I’m not being literal, god. CTFD man. C the F D.

(ily anyway, obviously.)

Anyway today was crazy fucking humid and I seemed to spend most of it sweating and working or worrying about how much I was sweating and not working. The things got done and the sun beat down on me with a ferocity unheard of in more civilised parts of the world and I had a mocha over ice with lunch and it didn’t seem to perk me up one bit, the heat just got to me too much. And despite all that, when I got home I still managed to get my arse on the spincyclotron and exercise so now I’m double fucked. GG Molly, GG! I’d say I should have an early night tonight, but I feel like I’m not gonna get much of a say in the matter.

Pim is a Cat

Fuuuuuuck today was long. And hot! It was long and hot. And at one point I got sent out to the middle of nowhere too (population: 10 and some horses) and then I got stuck in another place for three fifths of forever. It was basically the worst day I’ve had in recent memory, and I say that without an ounce of hyperbole or insincerity. Shit just sucked, and I didn’t get home until six. Frustrated sigh.

I still found time (or energy?) to work out once I got home though, and I had shitty scrambled eggs for dinner, so like, I guess that’s okay. I also bought chips and gravy for lunch at one point and was disappointed and kind of disgusted to find that the gravy was meat-based and regretted the decision for most of the rest of the afternoon. It has been a long time now since I have eaten anything that even vaguely resembles meat in taste or texture and this briefest of accidental flirtations kind of sealed for me that it is not something I am particularly longing for. Just thinking about it now makes me feel kind of ill, ugh. I’m not sure why I expected so much from an industrial cafe but I got what I paid for I guess. I was just really craving fucking gravy.

Oh, also, I met some Burmese kittens and they were amazing. Soft and brown and playful and nice and I wanted to shove them in my handbag and steal them and take them home with me and they and Pim would’ve been best friends. But I couldn’t so I didn’t, I just pet them and played with them a lot while I waited on hold for what seemed like eternity for my contact to call me back and just sort the shitty problem we were having out. And then I was made to feel like the problem was my fault! Good times. I’m sure I’ll get my arse kicked for it tomorrow, and I’ll have probably found some way to justify why I deserve it by then. It’s just kinda my thing, ya know?

Mediocre Like Me

I have done nothing all weekend, but you know what? I’m okay with that. I have kind of resigned myself to a life of boredom and poverty at this point, at least until I next go to Sydney, so I’m just working my way through life until that point as frictionlessly as possible. I’m watching a lot of web series (Nostalgia Chick, Todd in the Shadows, ashens) at the moment and talking to some dude on OkCupid in a half-arsed sort of way and breezing through my work days while trying to attract as little attention as possible – physically, sexually, positively, negatively. Until November 20 I am content to just fade in the background and be. I refuse to rock the boat.

That is not to say I enjoyed the process of getting to this place of total…I don’t know contentness seems wrong. Acceptance? Whatever word you’d use, getting here sucked. Obviously I have been having a very hard time adjusting to having less disposable income than I was previously used to, and I’ve been lonely and clucky and even suicidal in turns, but hey who isn’t? But between my own tendency to want to get everything that needs doing done yesterday, my enforced immobilisation by forces outside of my control and a handful of events in my personal life that came at a sustained enough pace to knock me the fuck down every time I managed to get my arse up again, it has been rough. It has sucked all of the balls.

Doing nothing this weekend, being so broke I couldn’t afford to do anything, has kind of helped me get some perspective on all my shit. The motherhood thing was just like, the start of this huge waterfall of crap that I suddenly had just enough time and quietness to work through and finally let out of my system. That was Friday night, anyway. Saturday was spent kicking my own arse but that passed too, followed by some unpublished observations I creatively labeled “do not publish” in my WordPress drafts about relationships and social lives and other shit I didn’t particularly feel like airing in public. And then today I got up with no plan, and had a shower and put my hair in dumb pigtails because it hurts to lay on a ponytail and I found my zen place. I wasn’t angry or sad or anything really, but I was like…not disappointed in myself, I guess. For the first time in a long time. I’m not gonna say that feels nice, because it should be the baseline expectation not an exception to the rule, but it was a refreshing change of pace.

So like, here’s to mediocrity dudes. 25 days to go, and then everything changes again. Or at least I hope it will.

© 2014 Molly Speechley