I promised myself I would do some writing tonight and it seems I’ve succeeded. I did watch an episode of American Horror Story first but, you know what, that’s ok. I’m here now and that’s what matters. I haven’t posted anything in three months so, for me, the main thing was that I didn’t come home and just get back on the computer and do more work. There have been so many nights where I’ve told myself I’ll write something, anything but then I start with just a little bit of work and next thing I know it’s midnight and… fuck! It’s happened again.
Back in November, I started doing the social media and events for two of Jared’s bars and, at the time, I naively thought I’d be able to do that part time and keep working for my other bosses (albeit reduced hours). Oh boy was I wrong. The social media is fine but the events… They’ve spiralled into so much more than a full time role. This week I’m actually training someone to start helping me because it’s too much for one person. It’s a good problem to have; too many events. And I’m loving it but, god, it’s been a full on six months.
I’ve been working some very long days. For the last I don’t even know how many weeks, there’ve been many nights when I’ll come home and get straight back on the computer to work and won’t get to bed til midnight or 1am. Then I’m back on the computer – back at work – from 9am or 10am. I hate it. Not the job, mind you. Just the workload. The lifestyle. The fact that I literally go from work to bed with no me time aside from maybe watching TV while eating dinner. It sucks but it should get better soon. Even if it doesn’t get better before we go on holiday, it should at least get better when I’m back and the new girl is all trained up and we have our systems in place.
Oh yes. The holiday. The light at the end of the tunnel, our belated honeymoon. Nine weeks of European bliss.
- Sailing the Croatian Islands
- Mykonos, Milos and Santorini
- Sicily and then a road trip from the Amalfi Coast up to Florence and then back across to Milan.
I cannot fucking wait and thankfully there are only 5.5 weeks until we fly. It can’t come soon enough as far as I’m concerned. It’s starting to get that chill in the air here and little old me will be quite happy to ditch winter in favour of an endless summer. We’ll be back mid-August so we really won’t see too much of winter this year, thank fuck. If we ever become super rich, that will be my request: travel the world so we never see another winter… unless it’s by choice. Fuck. That. Shit. I want to spend my days in as little clothing as legally possible and winter ain’t gonna help me achieve that life goal. No siree, bob.
So yeah, that’s been me for the past six months but I want to do better. Just typing this now makes me realise how much I’ve missed writing. I feel a bit rusty but that’s nothing a bunch of good ol’ practice won’t fix. I just need to make time. Fuck, it’s not like it takes long.
A friend asked me the other day if I was going to get back to my writing once work settled down and, at the time, I thought no. In that moment, I think I just desperately wanted to have just some free time to do absolutely nothing. Maybe to read. Anything. I hadn’t written in so long that it felt like an impossibility. But look at me now! I’m fucking flyin’, Chop! Sorry, that’s Chopper reference. I’m pretty sure it will only make sense to Australians or people that are familiar with Eric Bana’s early work. Watch the movie. You won’t be disappointed.
Anyway, that’s enough from me. I’ve kept my promise to myself and I’m happy with my effort. Now I just need to keep it up. It’s the follow through has always been the tough bit for me.