Jolly

How to win at life

Homelife Crisis 12 Comments

I don’t know if it’s coincidence, but Friday was the last day of term 3 and I was informed that I’m officially “horrible”. In less than 24 hours, I managed to fall out with all 3 of my children.  Good effort!

It rounds off a week where I’d been given feedback that I don’t give enough discretionary effort at work (although I do my job well), I’ve overstepped limits I didn’t even know existed, had a telephone interview where the interviewer had taken so much notice of my CV that he assumed my nationality based on very recent work history, and to top it all, accidentally overheard a supervisor telling one of his team that I “was alright” and “he’d give me one”.  Whilst I’m obviously flattered to feature on some shaggability scale *cough*- oh no, that’s right – actually I’m not, I kind of feel like, it was a good thing the weekend arrived when it did!!

Screen Shot 2015-09-26 at 12.43.38 pm

And as my hip is STILL refusing to settle, I guess I’m neither jolly or a runner right now.  This is how to win at life, right?

But despite that, I’m quite excited, because some big changes are afoot. And I’m one of those weirdos that quite likes change.

Probably because I never think it through too much before it actually happens. It’s only when I’m in too deep to get out again that I start to think “oh shit…!”

The thing is, we’re moving! Not only will we be leaving little old Boganvillia, but also SA.  We’re going to the bright lights and big city.

Screen Shot 2015-09-28 at 8.24.49 pm
Courtesy of @visitbrisbane

Brisbane is as much bright lights, big city as this country girl can take!

Which is one of the reasons why there might have been a few fallings out in our household. I’m not winning at life, and I’m not winning any accolades as parent of the year since we shared the news.  My girls, in the midst of the build up to their Year 12 exams and uni applications, with their sights set firmly on Adelaide, feel abandoned. My son is gutted that he won’t move up to senior school with all his buddies or be able to play in the sports teams he’s become so happy and established in next season. I am a monster mum…

But every cloud has it’s silver lining, and there are advantages to being under the pump, and feeling like you really can’t take anymore: it makes you look at things a little more ruthlessly and take certain decisions that you might have been avoiding. Self preservation rules OK.

For example, I can’t run the full marathon at Melbourne – it would be sheer madness now, as I can’t run regularly enough to even do the remedial training that would get me round. So, I’m going to drop back to the half.  Which means I won’t have a qualifying run for Comrades next year. 🙁 With the move to Queensland, I just don’t think it’s going to be possible to afford the trip or the time off.  (That’s assuming, of course, that I find a job up there – the Grumpster thinks I should, but right now, I’m kind of over employment)!

And with no major running goals, I do like the thought of just getting out to run for pleasure, no pressure; it’s incredibly appealing.  What – a jolly runner – me? Who’d have thought!!!

It’s also made me take a closer look at the beauty of this little town we call home.

Whyalla Foreshore - Rotary globe

The footprint is so compact that nothing takes more than 10 minutes by car, and don’t forget you’re likely to be one of only a handful of cars on the road whenever you head out. The town was built for a much bigger population, so the roads are broad: often dual carriageway – driving is a cinch. (Although the girls don’t think so: learning to drive – we insisted on manual – is stressful no matter how little traffic you encounter).

I can (could) run at more or less any time of day or night without ever feeling unsafe.  OK, that’s not entirely true. When the paper delivery drivers are careering across the road and pavements at 4:30am and I don’t know if my clothing is reflective enough, then I feel unsafe.

But this town is inhabited by the people who should be awarded an honour for being the friendliest in Australia. It’s only as we start to face the fact that this is really real, and start to tell people that I realise how much we’ve put down roots here. I know, because I can already feel the wrench when I think about pulling up stumps to move interstate. We’ve made some really dear friends, so there’s going to be a lot to miss, and I’m only glad that this move is within the bounds of the same country – we can get back to visit, and friends can get to us. As Arnie so eloquently put it, “I’LL BE BACK”.

So things are pretty topsy-turvy right now, but I can’t say that I’m unhappy.  Moving house makes you take a hard look at what possessions are important to retain. It also forces you to recognise the things and people you value, and need to keep in your life, or discard. With that knowledge, it makes facing the next chapter much easier.

Courtesy of @ratherbwithfurbabies
Courtesy of @ratherbwithfurbabies

 

 

Related Posts

The Bank of Fitness



The Whole Jolly Journey

%d bloggers like this: