Sunday, 30 December 2012

An end to all things

Thank goodness 2012 is ending. What a shitty year on average. The good things: meeting Greg, seeing bits of Europe. The bad things: work in general, my Uncle dying, my other family drama, the flatmate debacle, and all the damn depression. May 2013 be a better year. Can't say I'm all that optimistic.

However, Craig is back in the country and I will be happy to see him and catch up with his international adventures. I will be spending New Year's eve with an old school friend at the farm which is usually enjoyable, and it will be good to see her and her family; some JC le Roux is in order I think. 2013 means I'll be moving in with my best friend, which will hopefully go as well as it did in CT, without the Hep A.

Things that hang in the balance: work work work. Will they let me upgrade to PhD? Is that even the right course for me? Can I survive another two to three years of this? And if I can upgrade, will they get it done in time for my bursary not to be cancelled? So many questions. Few answers.

As my last entry of 2012, here's to another year over (almost). To Kyle and Jono who will experience 2013 before me, to Greg and Baked Beans who will experience after, and to all those special people who will be experiencing it at the same time - happy thoughts to you all; may the coming year be all you wish it could be and more.

Goodbye 2012. Good riddance.

Sunday, 9 December 2012


There are days when life is just too much to handle. If we're unlucky, those days stretch into weeks or months. If you get to the year stage I would be surprised you made it that far. But back to the days. It may be one big thing or many small things building the pressure up until exploding point. If we can, most of us have coping mechanisms to deal with these days. Put on the stoic face and fight the good fight; ignore it all and carry on like nothing is wrong; or run and hide from it all until we can pull it together enough to fight or fix. For me there is nothing worse during these days than feeling like you have no-one to help you hold up the walls. I don't know how bottlers do it. I don't know how I used to do it. Because right now, I'm drowning. I'm drowning and fast losing the energy to swim up.