Things have changed for me, and I’m not just talking about the arrival of Guns n’ Roses.
I’m aware that I may come across arrogant in this post and it’s not the meant that way, nor meant to belittle anyone else’s existence. I’m just rather pissed and must vent.
So, things have changed and here’s how:
I no longer have a boss or colleagues to bitch about (do I hear a collective sigh of relief?).
I no longer worry about what to wear or what people think of me (superficially).
I no longer sit in traffic every day and so cannot regale my favourite listeners with stories about murderous fantasies whilst anagramming* number plates.
I no longer wish with all my heart that I could follow my ‘bigger picture’ dream and actually enjoy a sunset or feel the warmth of the breeze. Something I forgot to do each day in the city.
I no longer complain or talk about these things, because my life has changed.
I understand we make friends with like-minded people and enjoy competing over whose boss is the biggest perv, because it’s something we understand. The concept of the ‘Other’ takes on a whole new form when people we once knew now live a life entirely foreign to us.
So I understand that my recent posts may invite the idea that I’ve somehow lost most of my IQ in the nearby ocean, or the Guns are slowly filing my sanity away with each cute thing they do.
If this is how you feel, then so be it. I understand, so please try do likewise.
I have moved to a tiny town, on the coast and sit each morning watching the waves whilst I drink my coffee (in pjs, naturally…me, not the coffee). My kittens (the aforementioned ‘Guns’) keep me company and do the darnedest things. I work in Social Media and so sit on Facebook/Twitter/G+ every day, so it’s likely that I’ll be telling you about my life.
Most people spend their lives working their backsides off hoping to achieve what I have accidentally achieved at 28. They spend day after day in traffic, on their way to mindless jobs that leech their passion and soul from them one task at a time, only to retire to a flat much like mine at the age of 65. Perhaps this is the South African dream, rather than American, I’m not sure, but I know that most of my friends have this is mind.
As a child, most people told me to aim for the following:
- Find something you love and making a living from it – Done.
- Move out of the city to somewhere quieter and more beautiful – Done.
- Learn how to work to live, not live to work (Italian style) – Done.
- Find someone you love to live forever with – Hmmm…yeah, still working on that. Apart from some very rich pensioners, the pickings are slim here in No Man’s Land.
I was sick before, rather sick. I was tired. I was lonely and I was deeply afraid that I was missing out on life and everything I hold dear, merely to bring in a larger pay cheque.
I’m lonely now, but that’s about it. I traded in my ‘fishing ground,’ I traded in the offer of double my previous salary, I traded in friends (which still pangs) and I traded in stability…to be broke, but happy.
Please respect that. Don’t accuse me of being boring because I talk about the Guns who’ve become a rather large part of my life, or because watching a Kingfisher outside my office window each day is the highlight of my afternoon. Be happy for me…or bugger off.
I understand you don’t like hearing about this, because it’s not what you find important, so, instead of feeling like a right tart every time someone makes a sarky comment about my new found life and screaming at the accuser, I’m now saying “Well, fine, unf*@k you then.” I now only ask you to unfriend me, stop following me, remove me from your circle. If you don’t respect my change, that’s fine, but please don’t expect me to put up with your ridicule.
Now, I’m off for another coffee on my porch, watching the sea with my kittens.