Having a little think about what I said in my last post. I don’t like blogging about the sheer tedium that is job searching because, well, it’s tedious. However, I seem to have nothing to blog about instead. Which is not insignificant actually. I’ve just been hit with the blinding realisation that nothing has changed. I’ve gone from having very little in my life other than work to having very little in my life other than looking for work. And when that gets dull, as it oh so surely does, I find myself spending the day in my dressing gown watching crap telly* and grumbling to myself.
I had made the most basic of inroads (infootpaths? intrails?) into building a life for myself. I investigated a book group, but then didn’t go when it was on as I hadn’t finished the book. I went to visit the Samaritans to find out about volunteering, but haven’t filled in the application form. I signed up for the Creativity Challenge, but have only made a paella so far and haven’t posted anything about it. I’m still looking for my Grand Passion, the thing that gets me out of bed in the mornings. It is unlikely to be in the region of the tv, but I shall keep looking.
The project that Le Homme has been working on is over in the next couple of days and he’ll be working locally again soon. This is likely to drive me slightly mental as I have gotten incredibly used to having the house to myself three days a week. I am finding though, that the things which drive me mental are often the things which are best for me, strangely enough. Hopefully, this will be one of those occasions and I won’t be driven to stabbing him while he sleeps after a week of close confinement. He’s being lovely about the whole situation, but his idea of being supportive is to ask in minute detail about all the things I have done with my day. Which makes me feel incredibly defensive and like I have to account for every minute of the day with something productive. It’s not what he means at all – he’s just trying to be interested, but it needles me every time. It’s like when I’m trying to lose weight and he’ll be all “Did you go to the gym today?”, in a totally innocuous way. Of course, what I hear is “You should have gone to the gym today, you giant lazy fat arse”. I know this, and I try not to let it bug me, but it does. Oh, how it does. I guess this is Being A Grown Up. Yay.
*I’d watched all available episodes of One Tree Hill and then Virgin TV helpfully put the first season of The O.C on their On Demand channel. Help.