Friday, August 15, 2014

Losing yourself

It's raining, and rain makes me think. I have tea and an hour before I need to leave for work. This piece has been a work in the making of several months- So forgive the apparent lack of continuity. The thing is though- I don't make sense and that's whats so delightfully wonderful about me.

When I started writing this post, it began as a forced process to "prove a point" and ultimately ignore a now glaringly obvious point about my life. I'm hesitant to write this because of both my love of denial and tendency to have 'startling revelations' that result in intense face-palming and no action being taken. This is a relatively poignant moment for me though and it seems foolish to waste an opportunity to write.


 I've been absent for a few months and - despite the fact my readership probably consists of my parents best friend, I figured I owed it to you guys to get out of bed and bring my snarky cynicism back to the page.

I suppose part of the reason is because the last few months I feel like I havent had a voice- insert shield against feminist uproar/ accusation about having a patriarchal boyfriend here.

 My life has taken on a blissful level of boring, a world where my biggest whinge is that there's new species of mould growing in my housemates crockery- really wish I was kidding about that. It's not that I don't read feminist articles and rage over politics anymore, but rather I know that that's not going to pay my rent.....yet anyway.

Somehow in 4 months I've become an adult. Apparently that doesn't happen overnight, I call bullshit. I blame a few things, primarily my first 'adult relationship' and becoming totally financially independent - which I still think are seriously overrated by the way.

So I got a permanent part time job and within a week realized two major things. Firstly that retail is not an easy job and secondly? No wonder my parents are always so tired!.  Suddenly I LEGITMATELY  need to do my laundry, really really badly; end up looking at my pay check each week with a "I worked THAT hard for THIS", let alone my serious envy of people who get normal weekends. I love my job, and on a recent holiday-  I swear I started twitching after 4 days without it.

The other night we talked. Of the many things said and debated that night the one thing that truly smacked me in the fact was "You act like a 1950's conservative house wife", It came fast and furious. How had the once vivacious, independent and proudly feminist Cara  given way to what I'm pretty sure is Tony Abbott and Chris Pyne's ideal 'woman'. I had surrendered my voice, become dependent on a man and was insisting on doing the domestic chores constantly because "I'm a woman".

That night I made a promise to myself that the rule book went out the window- and it kind of has. This week a comedic hero died and my role model marriage fell apart. Nothing in life makes sense or is serious. It's so easy to get caught up in the hum drum of work, relationships and even depression. There is no startling revelations and no one is invincible. I'm violently against the taxes put on tampons and to hell with being a Stepford Wife.

There is so much I want to say and ask, and even with my lack of life skills. I really want to know how the hell you deal with a stray possum in the work place.

My house is a mess, and this week I was bitten by a crab the size of my thumbnail.



(Attempting to be a 1950's housewife)














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