Wednesday, April 17, 2013

The White Rabbit


Last year when I was job hunting, I came across an HR Coordinator role with Koko Black for which I applied, despite having no experience in HR. They were loose with their selection criteria and I have a loose grasp of reality. The cover letter started with, ‘To the wonderful people at Koko Black,’ and finished with this:


Yes, in a formal job application, I compared myself to the Koko Black mascot and included photos as evidence.* Please don’t institutionalise me.

This would not be the last time that I am compared to a white rabbit.

In the beloved children’s story Alice in Wonderland, we meet the white rabbit who runs about clutching his oversized pocket watch crying, ‘I’m late, I’m late!’ Late for what, exactly, we don’t really find out.

It’s no secret that I’m a pretty intense and neurotic person. Always on high alert, always running (figuratively), chasing an elusive something. So elusive even I don’t know what it is I’m running towards or from. Today, someone likened me to the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland and I couldn’t agree with them more.

I am the white rabbit. I am constantly fretting over the time – how quickly can I get a task done, how much can I fit into a day, impatient to move onto the next big thing. My default state is restlessness.

Well, I don’t want to be the white rabbit anymore. I’m tired. I’m done with the running when there is no race. Life’s not a race but I’m acting as though it is. Does it not feel like we’re constantly operating at this incredible pace but if we stop to wonder why we’re doing it we simply draw a blank?

From now on, I choose to be the Cheshire Cat. Cool, unfazed and smiling. He accepts that we’re all mad and that’s ok. And occasionally, he turns invisible.


*I actually got an interview with Koko Black from that letter. Jury’s out as to who is madder.

Sunday, April 14, 2013

The list will NEVER end. EVER.

This has been a major revelation for me. That list of things to do in our heads? We will die with it. Hopefully, we won’t die for a very long time and when we do, the list will look very different to the one that exists now but we will still die with an unfinished list in our heads. Scary shit, isn’t it?

It’s not uncommon for us busy creatures to have many things on the go at any one time, and still have a backlog of jobs to complete. Housework, paperwork, unreturned emails. The car needs servicing. Teeth are due to be cleaned and checked. I must get around to reading the Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath. I should peel that expired parking permit sticker off the car. Must buy so-and-so’s birthday present. And a card. Should change the bed sheets. Haven’t got this month’s Frankie magazine yet. Must head into Medicare soon and get that rebate. If you’re anything like me and you write actual to do lists, that’s all well and good. Until you catch yourself adding, ‘Must write to do list’ to your mental to do list.

A while ago, I had planned a near perfect weekend. Friday night and Saturday were going to be my social/chores days. I saw people and I got stuff done. Lots of stuff. I went to bed on Saturday happy. The next morning, I woke to my specially prepared ‘quiet day’. Reading, writing, catching up on TV shows on iView. I had been looking forward to my Sunday all week. I woke up late on Sunday and staying in bed, read the final beautiful pages of my book. I then picked up another and launched straight in. And that was the precise moment the guilt kicked in. This is too indulgent. There is so much other stuff I should be doing. And at the top of the list? Consolidating my Super.

That’s right. At the age of 27, the thing that sits at the top of my to do list is to consolidate my Super. In my defence, I have been meaning to do this for a while, about ten months in fact. And they keep reminding you that you’re paying unnecessary fees. I have three accounts. That’s three lots of fees! So it has been bugging me. But, what a ridiculous thing to be spoiling my perfect Sunday!

Someone very wise told me about the never-ending list secret. I call it a secret because I honestly believe many people aren’t aware of this. We think we have to get through it in order to be able to enjoy ourselves, to sleep easy, or to move on to the next thing. But life’s to do list doesn’t work that way. You get through what you think is the entire list and then someone turns the effing page and you discover the list goes onto page 2, and 3, and you get the picture.

We tell ourselves, I’ll just do one more thing. It’ll only take fifteen minutes. But a lot of fifteen minutes add up to a long time. And as we all know, one thing will lead to another... if you’re lucky. If you’re unlucky, it leads to another five.

So, I’m teaching myself to be ok with an unfinished list. It’s not always easy, but I’m trying. In fact, it goes completely against my nature. And even as I write this, it’s killing me that I STILL haven’t gotten around to doing something about the three Super accounts. What are the implications of dying with that still on the list?

Saturday, April 13, 2013

People are 'Interesting'


Earlier this week, I dropped my phone on a concrete footpath. The phone was less than thrilled with this and is currently spending some time in the smartphone hospital. The nice man at Optus gave me a temporary phone while the insurance people sort things out. The temporary phone is a brick and a sign from the big man above to stop wasting time on social media.

So, as I waited the whole eight minutes for the tram to arrive today, I tried to explore the different features of my borrowed phone, all three of them. Text, call, change volume. Then I discovered something really cool. You know when a phone has exchanged many hands not by the number of scratches and dents but by the messages left behind. Yep, some people have saved their SMSs to the phone instead of their SIMs leaving glimpses into their faceless anonymous lives. This phone has a history, albeit a slightly disturbing one.

Here are some of my favourites:

If you had a 2 handed wank would be like watching an early looney tunes!!!


Am I too sheltered to get this reference or are other people just as confused? It’s nice to see that the Looney Tunes are still relevant though. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Bugs, Daffy and Co make an appearance in pop culture or referenced in conversation.

Person 1: Here now.. I know I really should wave to me too. G x
Person 2: Excuse i......?
Person 1: Sorry wrong number
Person 2: No I feel sorry for you


I wish Person 1 was my friend. Or Person 2.

My strange addiction... Stacey eats her dead husbands ashes up to 6 times a day! She is worried about what will happen when they run out cause “he’s not going to be there”!!!

That one had me puzzled for a long time. So much so that I had to Google it. Apparently, this is actually a true story on the TV show My Strange Addiction. The woman’s name is actually Casie (get it right, people), she lives in the States and the story is really very sad. The text message does speak the truth – she is addicted to eating her dead husband’s ashes.

I only have myself to blame for this.