This post I have to write in complete metaphor. The reason being, that I'm too ashamed to even write it with the pseudonym names I have on this blog. So here goes.
Let's say that there's a park. This park is the best. It's been your favourite park for a really long time. You see this park often. You go there when it's sunny and relax on the park benches as the warm rays soak into you. You escape there when it's windy, inside the massive and comforting gazebo. You even have a secret little tree, with its wide-reaching branches that protect you from the coldest rain. No matter what the weather, this favourite park is always there for you.
As life goes on, and you ponder the meaning of life, you begin to think about this park. You love the park, and will always love it. However you are open to exploring other parks, and begin to see the heightened beauty of another park that you have always walked past to get to your favourite park. Let's call this other park park B.
Park B has other beauties that you appreciate. When the suns rays stream down onto the park bench you sit at there, the warmth is so strong that you immediately see the reddening on your skin. It too houses protection from the elements, and though it has no gazebo to keep you safe from the cold days, it has some nice feathery trees that keep you protected enough when the weather turns chilly. You don't mind this compromise, because of the intense heat you get whilst sitting there.
Park B also fits in with your preferred lifestyle. You find yourself getting colder each day, and yearn for the powerful heat you get from that park, even if it means getting stuck there during a cold spell and suffering slightly because you don't have as much protection as you do from your first park. You still love the first park; of course, it will always be your first proper and favourite park; yet you wonder whether over the coming years, you will start to wane away from it, and visit Park B more often, slowly edging away from the park that used to be your only one.
You're excited by the warmth you receive from Park B. You start to imagine the future and all the possibilities you have in visiting this park, and create fantasies where you are visiting Park B, and receiving all the beautiful warmth you can possibly dream of.
Just when you think things are going fantastic, when you think nothing could possibly change your feelings towards Park B, something happens. You walk to Park B one day and find someone sitting on your park bench. The one you thought was reserved for you and only you. Sure, parks are public places, and anyone can come and visit any park they choose. But something about the way the sun's rays hit this person as they sit on your supposed park bench, unsettle you. The way the park's trees sway in accordance to the soft wind, and the tree branches bend so that this person on your park bench can get the ultimate sun impact. And what a glorious sun they are getting. The warmth shining on their face is almost blinding.
You walk away, disheartened. Things suddenly appear different. Cold and confused, you wrap your arms around you; you realise you've been wearing lighter clothes.
You begin to think of your first park. The one and only park. It needs no other name to describe it. Yes, that park housed many a people who ventured into it. But it always seemed to hold a special place for you. It never favoured anyone else, or made anyone feel as comfortable there as it did with you. It kept you warm, and most importantly, kept you protected from every single element that dared to disturb your splendour. And it was waiting for you to come back all along.
You walk to your first park, guiltily. You feel ashamed. You look at your park, and know that your park knows. Your park knows where you've been. It's aware of your recent feelings, and knows that you've been visiting Park B more and more as of late.
You smile at the park and walk over to your park bench. Here, the park's branches move so that the sunlight that streams down on you is the best there that you can get. Sure, it's not blinding. But blinding isn't always good. Sometimes blinding can be too much.
You settle into the bench, close your eyes, and allow the park to love you as it always has.
Afterword
This is definitely not about Hubbie. I love him more than ever and this is definitely not about our relationship.
What I will say though is that there is a moral to this story: The grass is always greener in your park. Don't forget this.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
Movie Moments
The above is what I'm trying my best to focus on in my return back to work today after 2 weeks.
Like I've previously blogged, many many posts ago, it felt not only weird to be back at work today but also depressing. I know the first day back is always difficult, and it takes a while to get back into the everyday routine.
But I've had such a good time while on leave with Hubbie. Not just good, but great, brilliant, fantastic, fun, every wonderful and heart-warming, good times-explosive word you can imagine.
And it's not even like we went away very far, or for very long. Yes, we went away for a few nights for my birthday, with the rest of the time spent furniture/home furnishing shopping, whilst drinking coffees, going out to brunches and dinners, and going out heaps with our family and friends, with a good dose of drinking and partying to make things that extra bit awesome.
Having the time off with Hubbie was absolute bliss. We haven't had this much time off together since our honeymoon. And it was tooooooo good. Which is why I felt so depressed this morning.
Things did seem a bit weird, a bit off around the office this morning, however I can't quite put my finger on what the changes are, because everything looks the same. Except for the printer, that is different.
Again, in light of these strong feelings, my resolve to write and be my own boss is stronger than ever. Although I had a bit of writers block last week (is it writer's block when you can't find ideas, or you can't find the right words? Maybe both) I know I need to finish this story (I've finished chapter 9) and after finishing it, keep ON writing to develop more books, as not writing would be like killing these characters off in my head. And they definitely have a story that needs to be heard.
Also, coming back to work to learn that once again
hey you! yes you! you are going to be in charge again while your boss is away! YAY!
is not exactly love inducing. I wanted to come back to work and have it be all cruisy because I'm still in freaking holiday mode. I have my brother-in-law's birthday tonight, my bestie Blonde is visiting again from the U.S, and I want to ease into this thing. But no. Work has other plans doesn't it. And not only that, but people have to snap at me too, don't they, just for fucking asking questions and doing my job as opposed to slacking off and counting down the seconds like the complete idiotic incompetent wankers that they are (ahem, cough* no-show boy).
So, here I sit, breathing deeply, and thinking of my book. Of my success. How all this bullshit is going to make it so much more worth it one day.
I think back to brunch with my friends yesterday. Talking to Red about her engagement plans on the busy street sidewalk, while Blonde and our other friends wave at us through the shop window, pointing at bags and accessories. I think of Blonde walking up to us and enveloping us in a big group hug.
I think of Hubbie. My everything. I think of us walking around in random circles in over-commercialised shopping centres, drinking expensive coffee and getting excited about practically everything, all the while trying to focus on buying things for the home while getting constantly sidetracked from our over-hyped, caffeine-induced states. And then buying really expensive things at the drop of a hat just because we can :)
Those are the movie moments.
I think of lying across Hubbie and staring up at him, and this I struggle to think of in fear of tears trickling down my face, because I miss that so much. Yes I have that still, but I want it every day, not just end of day when we're all over the routine and work of life, tired and crap.
So that's why I've got to focus and push past the writer's block. Because I want it all. I can have it all, I know I can.
"Me, I want what's coming to me. The world Chico, and everything in it." - Tony Montana, Scarface.
Like I've previously blogged, many many posts ago, it felt not only weird to be back at work today but also depressing. I know the first day back is always difficult, and it takes a while to get back into the everyday routine.
But I've had such a good time while on leave with Hubbie. Not just good, but great, brilliant, fantastic, fun, every wonderful and heart-warming, good times-explosive word you can imagine.
And it's not even like we went away very far, or for very long. Yes, we went away for a few nights for my birthday, with the rest of the time spent furniture/home furnishing shopping, whilst drinking coffees, going out to brunches and dinners, and going out heaps with our family and friends, with a good dose of drinking and partying to make things that extra bit awesome.
Having the time off with Hubbie was absolute bliss. We haven't had this much time off together since our honeymoon. And it was tooooooo good. Which is why I felt so depressed this morning.
Things did seem a bit weird, a bit off around the office this morning, however I can't quite put my finger on what the changes are, because everything looks the same. Except for the printer, that is different.
Again, in light of these strong feelings, my resolve to write and be my own boss is stronger than ever. Although I had a bit of writers block last week (is it writer's block when you can't find ideas, or you can't find the right words? Maybe both) I know I need to finish this story (I've finished chapter 9) and after finishing it, keep ON writing to develop more books, as not writing would be like killing these characters off in my head. And they definitely have a story that needs to be heard.
Also, coming back to work to learn that once again
hey you! yes you! you are going to be in charge again while your boss is away! YAY!
is not exactly love inducing. I wanted to come back to work and have it be all cruisy because I'm still in freaking holiday mode. I have my brother-in-law's birthday tonight, my bestie Blonde is visiting again from the U.S, and I want to ease into this thing. But no. Work has other plans doesn't it. And not only that, but people have to snap at me too, don't they, just for fucking asking questions and doing my job as opposed to slacking off and counting down the seconds like the complete idiotic incompetent wankers that they are (ahem, cough* no-show boy).
So, here I sit, breathing deeply, and thinking of my book. Of my success. How all this bullshit is going to make it so much more worth it one day.
I think back to brunch with my friends yesterday. Talking to Red about her engagement plans on the busy street sidewalk, while Blonde and our other friends wave at us through the shop window, pointing at bags and accessories. I think of Blonde walking up to us and enveloping us in a big group hug.
I think of Hubbie. My everything. I think of us walking around in random circles in over-commercialised shopping centres, drinking expensive coffee and getting excited about practically everything, all the while trying to focus on buying things for the home while getting constantly sidetracked from our over-hyped, caffeine-induced states. And then buying really expensive things at the drop of a hat just because we can :)
Those are the movie moments.
I think of lying across Hubbie and staring up at him, and this I struggle to think of in fear of tears trickling down my face, because I miss that so much. Yes I have that still, but I want it every day, not just end of day when we're all over the routine and work of life, tired and crap.
So that's why I've got to focus and push past the writer's block. Because I want it all. I can have it all, I know I can.
"Me, I want what's coming to me. The world Chico, and everything in it." - Tony Montana, Scarface.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Engagements and Weddings are coming out of my ar - .... ahem, behind
I couldn't sleep last night, lying in bed for a whole 2 hours after turning off the lights. It may have been the two coffees I had yesterday, or the fact that I slept in because we had a massive Saturday night.
Or it could have been because I was counting all the upcoming engagements and weddings we have coming up.
It's all very exciting, I must admit. In the past when we've had weddings/engagements galore, it's generally been more of Hubbie's extended family, and so although we've enjoy ourselves like we always do at parties and stuff, it is nothing compared to when you are supertight with the people there.
A month ago a close friend called to tell me she's engaged, and only a week ago Red called on her return from a holiday with Mr Wine to tell me he'd proposed. I was screaming into the phone and trying to hold back tears of happiness. SOooooooooooooooo happy :-D :-D :-D
Last night Hubbie and I were on the couch, when his best mate started messaging him. Turns out his wife's bro is getting married, and the girl is also extended family from Hubbie's side. We know the couple from both ends! That is also super-duper exciting, as we get along really well with Hubbie's best mate and wife, and we can't wait to party it up with them at the wedding.
So last night instead of counting sheep, I was counting all the weddings and engagements we have coming up. Here it is:
Red's engagement in September
My other friend's engagement in October
Definite wedding in late October - friend from school.
Those are the definites. The maybe's:
Hubbie's best mates wifes bro - maybe engagement this year
Another family member on Hubbie's side - maybe wedding later this year
Then I have 2 cousins, both who are getting married, but I don't know when = 2* possible weddings later this year.
THEN:
Next May is definitely my other friend's wedding.
Red is thinking early 2013 for her wedding.
And of course any maybe's that didn't follow through this year, including Hubbie's best mates wife's bro who will most likely get married in the following year.
Phew! So many maybe's it's doing my head in,. What I do know is there are going to be a lot of engagements and weddings in the next couple of years. Who am I kidding, when the engagements and weddings stop, the christenings and 1st birthdays begin........
:-D
Or it could have been because I was counting all the upcoming engagements and weddings we have coming up.
It's all very exciting, I must admit. In the past when we've had weddings/engagements galore, it's generally been more of Hubbie's extended family, and so although we've enjoy ourselves like we always do at parties and stuff, it is nothing compared to when you are supertight with the people there.
A month ago a close friend called to tell me she's engaged, and only a week ago Red called on her return from a holiday with Mr Wine to tell me he'd proposed. I was screaming into the phone and trying to hold back tears of happiness. SOooooooooooooooo happy :-D :-D :-D
Last night Hubbie and I were on the couch, when his best mate started messaging him. Turns out his wife's bro is getting married, and the girl is also extended family from Hubbie's side. We know the couple from both ends! That is also super-duper exciting, as we get along really well with Hubbie's best mate and wife, and we can't wait to party it up with them at the wedding.
So last night instead of counting sheep, I was counting all the weddings and engagements we have coming up. Here it is:
Red's engagement in September
My other friend's engagement in October
Definite wedding in late October - friend from school.
Those are the definites. The maybe's:
Hubbie's best mates wifes bro - maybe engagement this year
Another family member on Hubbie's side - maybe wedding later this year
Then I have 2 cousins, both who are getting married, but I don't know when = 2* possible weddings later this year.
THEN:
Next May is definitely my other friend's wedding.
Red is thinking early 2013 for her wedding.
And of course any maybe's that didn't follow through this year, including Hubbie's best mates wife's bro who will most likely get married in the following year.
Phew! So many maybe's it's doing my head in,. What I do know is there are going to be a lot of engagements and weddings in the next couple of years. Who am I kidding, when the engagements and weddings stop, the christenings and 1st birthdays begin........
:-D
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Mouse-capades
***Disclaimer! Do not read this post if you are particularly fond of mice or any type of rodent, as you will not find love for them here. Instead, click onto my "Happiness Is...." posts, you will find much more joyful reading there.... Mice haters read on.***
This last month has seen the fall and capture of Bin Laden, the end of Autumn and start of Winter, and the biggest party of the year, where my sister and I organised my Dad's surprise 70th birthday.
And then there were the mouse adventures of Hubbie and I.
Yes, the mouse. The mouse that had scarred us like no tomorrow.
It all began a couple of Fridays ago.
One Friday afternoon, Hubbie and I had made plans to catch up with his boss and his wife. They were going to come to our place after 6pm, and then we were going to make our way to a local pizza place for dinner. I had to drop off some presents to Blonde's parents, as they were heading overseas to stay with their daughter for a couple of months, and so I wanted them to pass on some presents from Red and I to her.
Well, the drop-off didn't really happen. I came to her parents very dark and apparently vacant looking house, and called Blonde's sister, saying, "I'm in front of your parents!" only to find out that they had left for overseas that morning. Apparently when her mum said for me to come on Friday, she probably actually meant that they were leaving on the Friday. Oh well. Blonde would get her presents in July when she visited us here.
So off I drove back home, half-laughing at myself, thinking 'wait til Hubbie hears about this mix up.' I'd left him at home, and knew that once I got back we would slowly start getting ready for that night.
I was a bit peeved off when I got to the front door, loaded with presents I thought I'd have dropped off already, and struggling with my keys, wondering 'where is he?' as Hubbie will often open the front door for me when he hears me.
I finally got the door open, and seeing the kitchen light on, was going to call out to him 'guess what happened?'
Instead he beat me to it. All I heard was "Don't be alarmed, but there's a mouse in here."
Because of his precaution, I wasn't too freaked out. And I wasn't so surprised either. I'd almost brought this predicament onto myself, I felt, as I thought of the past few weeks. Twice the previous week, in the lead up to my Dad's birthday during my baking marathons in the kitchen, I'd seen a mouse run through our backyard through our large sliding door windows.
I'd been very suspicious then. We have a sizeable gap on one end of the door that leads to the garage. So once something, anything was in the garage, it wasn't hard to imagine it not finding its way inside. That, coupled with a big talk Hubbie and I had had with a family member about recent mice problems in our area, gave me a huge feeling that I was going to attract something very unwelcome with my worries.
I came into the kitchen, and Hubbie was definitely, very freaked out. I wasn't so much at this stage. Disgusted and shocked yes, still slightly in denial perhaps, as I hadn't yet seen the rodent.
He had actually lost sight of it. He'd been in the kitchen, and had turned around to see it's ugly tail flit across the sink/bench and behind the microwave. It had then run behind the stereo when he had moved the microwave, and now couldn't find it. It had apparently 'disappeared' behind the stereo.
I was instructed to stand and keep watch on one side of the stereo while Hubbie stood at the other, so we had all corners covered. I was getting icky by this stage and had to stand on a chair: I couldn't be on the ground if it suddenly sprung out at me. Yuck, shudder.
I was peering behind the stereo from my birds-eye view, and Hubbie was moving around the stereo, speakers and cables from the other side: nothing.
Hubbie was convinced he hadn't lost it, yet we couldn't see it anywhere. Occasionally we could hear something, like scurrying, but at the same time couldn't find the source of where it was coming from.
I don't know how he realised, but suddenly Hubbie turned to me, flashlight shining in one hand, long knife sharpener in the other, whispering, eyes shining bright "it's in the speaker!"
"How is it in the speaker?"
"It is, I can hear it!"
Then we realised. The small speaker hole, located at the base, was large enough for a freaking mouse to go through. It must have snuck in when Hubbie was looking for it from one side, and slid in undetected. 'Til now.
We realised if it was inside, we would have to try get the speaker to an outside area to get rid of the mouse. We were freaking out a bit more at this stage, especially given Hubbie was going to have to pick up and carry the mouse-filled speaker (there was no way in hell I would do it!)
I got an old tea towel that was in the laundry hamper, and he wrapped it around the base of the speaker, so that when he picked it up the hole was covered and the mouse couldn't escape. I quickly opened the sliding door for him, and he placed it in the middle of our backyard area, in the very dim light.
Here lied the problem. It was now so dark, that we could just barely see outside, and that was with our faint backyard light on. We didn't know how we could tell if the mouse had escaped from the speaker (which is what we wanted, we just didn't want it inside), and on top of that it was beginning to consistently drizzle.
And our not even 1 year old speaker was getting wetter and wetter.
We didn't know what to do. Hubbie went back outside, grabbed it and brought it in, the speaker that hadn't been out there more than a minute.
And he started to shake it. Hubbie was like "I don't think it's in there," SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE, and you could hear a faint moving inside, like the small parts of a piece of equipment jiggling around or cables moving. I stood there, unconvinced, wanting, almost, about to say "I don't think that's cables."
SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE.
SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE.
And then with one of the shakes, the mouse sprang out of the speaker hole, running towards our lounge room. It was already a full 2-3 metres in front of us before we had a chance to react, that's how fast it was. I gave a high-pitched squeal, Hubbie dropped the stereo and began taking long, quick strides, trying to balance and cover as much ground as possible and try get as good an aim at the mouse as he could. I will never for the rest of my life forget how funny he looked running after that mouse. Never.
But of course, the mouse was too quick, and appeared to have disappeared beneath the couches.
By this stage, my denial had dissipated, and was quickly replaced by hysteria.
"Oh my God! There's a mouse, in our house! How disgusting! I feel so gross! I can't believe it! Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God...."
Again, Hubbie ordered me to stand at one end of the lounge room while he went to the other, so he could search for it beneath the couch. I couldn't stand to stand, and once again brought over a chair so I could be at aerial height.
Hubbie looked and looked. He swept the floor, beneath the lounge, coffee table and TV unit with the torchlight. He moved the lounge and the coffee table. I wasn't convinced and was forced to look under the couch as well. There was no mouse. At one point I thought I saw something move near the stairs, but then realised it couldn't have run right in front of us to the stairs, we would have seen it.
I was starting to freak out. There was no mouse, I didn't know where it was, and I didn't like NOT KNOWING WHERE THINGS WERE. NOT BEING IN CONTROL. I hated it. And I was really hating this mouse for beating us.
We went through a lot of scenarios. Where it could have been. We decided and I very reluctantly agreed, that after it ran under the couch, it must have run along the back wall there and come upon the very door that leads to the garage, the one with the sizable gap on one side. It would have made its escape, away from the two mad people screaming and chasing at it.
The other scenario could have been that it was still under the couch. However Hubbie stressed to me (after I stated that we could not under any circumstances have his boss and wife over in the small chance that there was a disgusting rodent in our house) that in a room full of noisy people a mouse wouldn't be so stupid as to run out in front of us and say hello. He said we couldn't cancel on them, especially since they had gone to the lengths to get their children babysat that night to go out with us. I was really mad and stressed. But I knew I had to agree.
However I had my guidelines. I instructed Hubbie to get any drinks we would need out from our 'drinks fridge' in the garage. Then, he would close up the gap in the door leading to the garage (from the garage side so you couldn't tell) with my laundry hamper tea towels, to prevent any mouse re-entering the house.
And then we were going to like madmen get ready, in less than half an hour, returning furniture to its original places, putting our mess away, cleaning up broken glass (a glass broke when we were searching for the mouse in the kitchen) and any other CRAP mess the mouse had brought upon us in our hunt for it.
What had become a time bomb had within half an hour turned into a well-kept, clean and modern environment. I was muttering to myself "If these walls could talk."
And so the rest of the night passed by relatively effortlessly. We had our friends over, went out for dinner and then went to my parents quickly to get some stuff, which we'd been planning to do the whole time - this worked out rather favourably for us. We told them about the story - and Dad gave us 2 mouse traps of his: one for the garage, as that's where we assumed the mouse had ended up, and one for the house, just in case it hadn't escaped. That part I didn't want to think about. Hubbie decided he'd put the house trap near the kitchen, his reasoning being that if a mouse were looking for food, that would be the most logical place for it to go.
I was whinging a whole lot to my parents. Look, it wasn't so much that I was scared of it. Yes a part of me was, although I knew it wasn't going to run up and bite me. But its movements were unexpected, and wherever I was faced with something, someone or a situation in which I felt helpless, I got frustrated and angry. This mouse had come into our house with no invite, and had made me feel all icky and disgusting. My Mum made me feel better though: "The mouse just wants food! He's not going to come into your room to look at your perfumes!" We all laughed at that, and the ridiculous statement sort of put it into perspective for me. Of course she was right. Mice went to food, and there was no food in our bedroom.
...
We were very hesitant, to say the least, walking through the house throughout Saturday. But as they say, 'out of sight, out of mind.' And we were beginning to think that the mouse had really gone, as there was no sighting of it anywhere in the house.
Sunday early morning came, and Hubbie got up to go to work. It was about 6am, but his movements stirred me, and it was almost as if I knew what he was going to do. I heard him open the door leading to the garage, and pause. Then he walked up a part of our stairs. He called out to me "the trap went off."
"Alright. Is the mouse there?"
"Yep, it's dead."
Relief flooded over me. I was still freaked out - knowing that the mouse had been in there, somewhere the whole time. However knowing it had been caught made me feel safe, and I fell asleep again.
I was sleeping so nicely. I woke up a bit about 8am but fell asleep again. Something entered my dream. It was scurrying, twitching noises. I opened my eyes. The noise was coming from under the bed.
I shot upright in bed, and looked towards Hubbie's alarm clock. It was 9.00am. The noises had stopped. I sat there, frozen, and flung the blankets off of me.
Calm down Miss S, I thought to myself. You dreamt it. There's nothing under the bed. The mouse was caught. There's nothing under your bed.
You dreamt it, my internal voice continued. You were dreaming about weird noises, but now that you've woken up, you can't hear him. Because you stopped dreaming.
As much as I repeated the calming thoughts, the nagging just wouldn't go away. I hadn't dreamt it. I had woken up and heard the end sound of some scurrying under my bed. Like something was crawling right under the mattress, walking against the walls.
I got up. I swung my feet wide from the edge of the bed. I walked to the doorway, and crouched down on my hands and knees, to scan from a distance if anything was under the bed.
When I saw the large lump under the bed I got a small heart attack, until I realised that it was just a spare blanket that we sometimes use to hang in front of our blinds in summer when the morning light becomes too bright. I moved my eyes around, adjusting to the dim light under the bed, until I came to the bedside drawer. My bedside drawer.
There was a very small, roundish object, under the bedside drawer, right up against the wall.
My breathing increased. I tried to rationalise. What could be under there? The cables from my alarm clock and my lamp? No, they wouldn't bundle into a circle like that. I stared the bundle down, knowing full well that if it moved I would scream and shout like no tomorrow.
I remembered Hubbie's flashlight was in his bedside drawer, and so I quickly and tentatively walked over there, still trying to keep a view of the floor in our room. Although it's a good brand flashlight (that you can tell from how freaking heavy it is) for some reason the light flickers when it's on, and we've barely used it. So I'm desperately knocking it lightly with my hand, pleading with it, as the light flickers on, then off. "Please work, please please please...."
Finally it stayed on. I swung the light under the bedside drawer, to see that it was a definite object, no bunch of cables there. But I still couldn't work out what it was, crouching from the other end of the room.
So I stepped onto the bed, walked over to the wall side up near the pillows, and shone the light down, behind the drawer, pressing my face against the wall to see.
And I saw 2 little eyes glinting in the light.
I started to gingerly step from one side of the bed to its end, and as softly yet as quickly as I could, I stepped off and closed the door behind me.
"Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God. There's a mouse in my room. Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God." I remembered my Mum's words from a few days earlier. The mouse had come into my bedroom to see my perfumes!
I was in full flight mode, with a good dose of fight, as I remembered the mouse trap we had in the kitchen. I carefully picked it up, terrified it was going to go off, and ran back up the stairs.
I opened the door slowly. Set the mouse trap down near the door. Checked again under the drawer. Yep, mouse was still there. Closed the door and down the stairs I ran.
I hadn't even had a chance to grab my nightgown, and I wasn't gonna chance going into my bedroom again. First thing in my manic hysteria and disbelief: call Hubbie.
I got put through and immediately spoke the words he'd only days before spoken to me: "don't be alarmed, but there is a mouse in our bedroom, under our bed."
I explained how I came to hear/see it. I knew there wasn't much he could do since he was at work, but I just had to vent my frustrations and fears, and we hung up, me sensing the dread and disappointment in his voice. We'd both thought we'd got it, the mouse. But it seems as if there was another one waiting in the wings....
I ended up calling my parents, and they came over shortly after. While I waited I ate cereal on the couch, the throw gathered around me, throwing suspicious looks towards the stairs, wondering if and when I would hear a snap!
When they arrived, I went up with Dad to do some investigating. I never intended on going too far, as just from opening the door I could tell the mouse was still not caught - the trap was empty. My Dad decided to bring the mouse trap 'closer' to the mouse behind the drawer, and in horror I realised he meant CLOSE. He was taking the mouse trap right up to the drawer, as if 10 centimetres from, against the wall. I was calling out "Dad, it will run!" and freaking out, when the mouse ran along the length of the back wall. I screamed. It disappeared behind the bed along the wall again. My Mum called out to me from downstairs "come here Miss S, don't watch." As I quickly shut the door and ran I heard my Dad calling out "well, where do you want me to put the trap then?"
After sitting downstairs and freaking out for a bit, Dad came downstairs, saying that it was going to be impossible for him to catch the mouse, there had to be 2 people in the room. I told him to wait until Hubbie got home and they could do it together. Lo and behold it was as if Hubbie read my mind. He was owed some hours off, and so took that day as an opportunity to come home to our mouse crisis. He called me, and said he was on his way.
When Hubbie came home, the formalities were few: hello, how are you - let's go upstairs. Up he and Dad went, into a room already with 2 mouse traps (Dad had set up another) to catch the mouse. I was getting grossed out when they started asking for footwear to borrow in order to 'catch' it. Ew. Double Ew. Triple Ew. Ew, ew, ew.
Mum and I were downstairs at the table, talking all things mice. At one point we heard Hubbie go "ohhhhh" in deep realisation, and I wondered whether they had caught it. But still nothing. And then there was a loud noise. I stood up, waiting to hear the opening of the door, and soon it came followed by my Dad's asking for a bag. It was dead. Mouse no more.
They told us that it was impossible to catch. Just when they went to take a swing at it as it flew out from one end of the room to another, it was gone before their arm was even coming down. They said it never would have gotten caught if it weren't for the mouse trap. It ran straight into it.
After the whole debacle, we sat around drinking tea and eating cookies, while I recounted my morning horror again to them all in full detail. It was a story I was never going to forget. We were still wondering how the mouse had gotten into the bedroom, and I suggested that back when Hubbie and I were chasing it on the Friday night, maybe it had gone up the stairs somehow, like I thought I'd seen from the corner of my eye. Maybe it waited behind a couch, and then when we were gone went searching upstairs for food. The one caught in the garage that morning, that one I believe was the partner, coming in search of its mate. Although we were pretty satisfied that being a couple, there shouldn't be anymore, we still kept a few mouse traps around: one in our bedroom, one in the garage and one in the extra bedroom.
Why the extra bedroom you may ask? Well shortly following the whole mouse catching episode, we curiously went around the rooms, and realised that the mouse that had been in our bedroom had been in our spare bedroom with the easter eggs that couldn't fit into our pantry, and had knawed through a Lindt bunny's head, leaving bits of gold foil around the carpet. It was so disgusting, but it made sense: it went from room to room looking for more food. Why it didn't just stay in that room and keep eating, is beyond me. Maybe they're not so smart.
A day later, and back in that same spare bedroom I realised another Lindt bunny had had a section of it's ears eaten. We were freaked out, because we hadn't noticed it the day before, making us believe there was still a mouse in the house! Hubbie and I went on a massive excavation, moving all objects in all rooms and searching within and behind all furniture, nooks and crannies. Nothing. It left us with a sense of relief, but that doubt over why we hadn't noticed the 2nd eaten bunny earlier was grating on us, making us think constantly "what if?"
Hubbie sent me the best msg a few days later. I was at work, he at home, and he sms'd me this:
"I also put foil around the chocolate upstairs to see whether we still have company. Left the room door open to kindly invite him in."
His ploy being if the mouse were there, it would have to eat through fresh foil again, and we would then know for sure that there was another mouse. Fortunately for us nothing else has come up since, no sighting, and just yesterday Hubbie movied the mouse traps into the garage. We believe we are now mouse free!
What have we learned from this situation? Never leave sizeable gaps under any of your doors. Dad was able to patch it up immediately for us, and we discovered there was a decent hole in the brick wall of our garage that has now been filled in with a few chunks of wood.
Also, we've heard over the last while that there has been many, many, many reports of an influx of mice entering homes and backyards all over our region, due to the amount of rain that has been falling. It makes us feel that much better knowing the mice didn't necessarily choose our house because we were grotty (we're not) - rather they're all just running.
But like I say to the bugs that enter our home, before I smack them down with my shoe
"Why didn't you stay outside? Outside I don't touch you; in here, all bets are off!"
And so ends our Mouse-capade Adventure....
This last month has seen the fall and capture of Bin Laden, the end of Autumn and start of Winter, and the biggest party of the year, where my sister and I organised my Dad's surprise 70th birthday.
And then there were the mouse adventures of Hubbie and I.
Yes, the mouse. The mouse that had scarred us like no tomorrow.
It all began a couple of Fridays ago.
One Friday afternoon, Hubbie and I had made plans to catch up with his boss and his wife. They were going to come to our place after 6pm, and then we were going to make our way to a local pizza place for dinner. I had to drop off some presents to Blonde's parents, as they were heading overseas to stay with their daughter for a couple of months, and so I wanted them to pass on some presents from Red and I to her.
Well, the drop-off didn't really happen. I came to her parents very dark and apparently vacant looking house, and called Blonde's sister, saying, "I'm in front of your parents!" only to find out that they had left for overseas that morning. Apparently when her mum said for me to come on Friday, she probably actually meant that they were leaving on the Friday. Oh well. Blonde would get her presents in July when she visited us here.
So off I drove back home, half-laughing at myself, thinking 'wait til Hubbie hears about this mix up.' I'd left him at home, and knew that once I got back we would slowly start getting ready for that night.
I was a bit peeved off when I got to the front door, loaded with presents I thought I'd have dropped off already, and struggling with my keys, wondering 'where is he?' as Hubbie will often open the front door for me when he hears me.
I finally got the door open, and seeing the kitchen light on, was going to call out to him 'guess what happened?'
Instead he beat me to it. All I heard was "Don't be alarmed, but there's a mouse in here."
Because of his precaution, I wasn't too freaked out. And I wasn't so surprised either. I'd almost brought this predicament onto myself, I felt, as I thought of the past few weeks. Twice the previous week, in the lead up to my Dad's birthday during my baking marathons in the kitchen, I'd seen a mouse run through our backyard through our large sliding door windows.
I'd been very suspicious then. We have a sizeable gap on one end of the door that leads to the garage. So once something, anything was in the garage, it wasn't hard to imagine it not finding its way inside. That, coupled with a big talk Hubbie and I had had with a family member about recent mice problems in our area, gave me a huge feeling that I was going to attract something very unwelcome with my worries.
I came into the kitchen, and Hubbie was definitely, very freaked out. I wasn't so much at this stage. Disgusted and shocked yes, still slightly in denial perhaps, as I hadn't yet seen the rodent.
He had actually lost sight of it. He'd been in the kitchen, and had turned around to see it's ugly tail flit across the sink/bench and behind the microwave. It had then run behind the stereo when he had moved the microwave, and now couldn't find it. It had apparently 'disappeared' behind the stereo.
I was instructed to stand and keep watch on one side of the stereo while Hubbie stood at the other, so we had all corners covered. I was getting icky by this stage and had to stand on a chair: I couldn't be on the ground if it suddenly sprung out at me. Yuck, shudder.
I was peering behind the stereo from my birds-eye view, and Hubbie was moving around the stereo, speakers and cables from the other side: nothing.
Hubbie was convinced he hadn't lost it, yet we couldn't see it anywhere. Occasionally we could hear something, like scurrying, but at the same time couldn't find the source of where it was coming from.
I don't know how he realised, but suddenly Hubbie turned to me, flashlight shining in one hand, long knife sharpener in the other, whispering, eyes shining bright "it's in the speaker!"
"How is it in the speaker?"
"It is, I can hear it!"
Then we realised. The small speaker hole, located at the base, was large enough for a freaking mouse to go through. It must have snuck in when Hubbie was looking for it from one side, and slid in undetected. 'Til now.
We realised if it was inside, we would have to try get the speaker to an outside area to get rid of the mouse. We were freaking out a bit more at this stage, especially given Hubbie was going to have to pick up and carry the mouse-filled speaker (there was no way in hell I would do it!)
I got an old tea towel that was in the laundry hamper, and he wrapped it around the base of the speaker, so that when he picked it up the hole was covered and the mouse couldn't escape. I quickly opened the sliding door for him, and he placed it in the middle of our backyard area, in the very dim light.
Here lied the problem. It was now so dark, that we could just barely see outside, and that was with our faint backyard light on. We didn't know how we could tell if the mouse had escaped from the speaker (which is what we wanted, we just didn't want it inside), and on top of that it was beginning to consistently drizzle.
And our not even 1 year old speaker was getting wetter and wetter.
We didn't know what to do. Hubbie went back outside, grabbed it and brought it in, the speaker that hadn't been out there more than a minute.
And he started to shake it. Hubbie was like "I don't think it's in there," SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE, and you could hear a faint moving inside, like the small parts of a piece of equipment jiggling around or cables moving. I stood there, unconvinced, wanting, almost, about to say "I don't think that's cables."
SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE.
SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE.
And then with one of the shakes, the mouse sprang out of the speaker hole, running towards our lounge room. It was already a full 2-3 metres in front of us before we had a chance to react, that's how fast it was. I gave a high-pitched squeal, Hubbie dropped the stereo and began taking long, quick strides, trying to balance and cover as much ground as possible and try get as good an aim at the mouse as he could. I will never for the rest of my life forget how funny he looked running after that mouse. Never.
But of course, the mouse was too quick, and appeared to have disappeared beneath the couches.
By this stage, my denial had dissipated, and was quickly replaced by hysteria.
"Oh my God! There's a mouse, in our house! How disgusting! I feel so gross! I can't believe it! Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God...."
Again, Hubbie ordered me to stand at one end of the lounge room while he went to the other, so he could search for it beneath the couch. I couldn't stand to stand, and once again brought over a chair so I could be at aerial height.
Hubbie looked and looked. He swept the floor, beneath the lounge, coffee table and TV unit with the torchlight. He moved the lounge and the coffee table. I wasn't convinced and was forced to look under the couch as well. There was no mouse. At one point I thought I saw something move near the stairs, but then realised it couldn't have run right in front of us to the stairs, we would have seen it.
I was starting to freak out. There was no mouse, I didn't know where it was, and I didn't like NOT KNOWING WHERE THINGS WERE. NOT BEING IN CONTROL. I hated it. And I was really hating this mouse for beating us.
We went through a lot of scenarios. Where it could have been. We decided and I very reluctantly agreed, that after it ran under the couch, it must have run along the back wall there and come upon the very door that leads to the garage, the one with the sizable gap on one side. It would have made its escape, away from the two mad people screaming and chasing at it.
The other scenario could have been that it was still under the couch. However Hubbie stressed to me (after I stated that we could not under any circumstances have his boss and wife over in the small chance that there was a disgusting rodent in our house) that in a room full of noisy people a mouse wouldn't be so stupid as to run out in front of us and say hello. He said we couldn't cancel on them, especially since they had gone to the lengths to get their children babysat that night to go out with us. I was really mad and stressed. But I knew I had to agree.
However I had my guidelines. I instructed Hubbie to get any drinks we would need out from our 'drinks fridge' in the garage. Then, he would close up the gap in the door leading to the garage (from the garage side so you couldn't tell) with my laundry hamper tea towels, to prevent any mouse re-entering the house.
And then we were going to like madmen get ready, in less than half an hour, returning furniture to its original places, putting our mess away, cleaning up broken glass (a glass broke when we were searching for the mouse in the kitchen) and any other CRAP mess the mouse had brought upon us in our hunt for it.
What had become a time bomb had within half an hour turned into a well-kept, clean and modern environment. I was muttering to myself "If these walls could talk."
And so the rest of the night passed by relatively effortlessly. We had our friends over, went out for dinner and then went to my parents quickly to get some stuff, which we'd been planning to do the whole time - this worked out rather favourably for us. We told them about the story - and Dad gave us 2 mouse traps of his: one for the garage, as that's where we assumed the mouse had ended up, and one for the house, just in case it hadn't escaped. That part I didn't want to think about. Hubbie decided he'd put the house trap near the kitchen, his reasoning being that if a mouse were looking for food, that would be the most logical place for it to go.
I was whinging a whole lot to my parents. Look, it wasn't so much that I was scared of it. Yes a part of me was, although I knew it wasn't going to run up and bite me. But its movements were unexpected, and wherever I was faced with something, someone or a situation in which I felt helpless, I got frustrated and angry. This mouse had come into our house with no invite, and had made me feel all icky and disgusting. My Mum made me feel better though: "The mouse just wants food! He's not going to come into your room to look at your perfumes!" We all laughed at that, and the ridiculous statement sort of put it into perspective for me. Of course she was right. Mice went to food, and there was no food in our bedroom.
...
We were very hesitant, to say the least, walking through the house throughout Saturday. But as they say, 'out of sight, out of mind.' And we were beginning to think that the mouse had really gone, as there was no sighting of it anywhere in the house.
Sunday early morning came, and Hubbie got up to go to work. It was about 6am, but his movements stirred me, and it was almost as if I knew what he was going to do. I heard him open the door leading to the garage, and pause. Then he walked up a part of our stairs. He called out to me "the trap went off."
"Alright. Is the mouse there?"
"Yep, it's dead."
Relief flooded over me. I was still freaked out - knowing that the mouse had been in there, somewhere the whole time. However knowing it had been caught made me feel safe, and I fell asleep again.
I was sleeping so nicely. I woke up a bit about 8am but fell asleep again. Something entered my dream. It was scurrying, twitching noises. I opened my eyes. The noise was coming from under the bed.
I shot upright in bed, and looked towards Hubbie's alarm clock. It was 9.00am. The noises had stopped. I sat there, frozen, and flung the blankets off of me.
Calm down Miss S, I thought to myself. You dreamt it. There's nothing under the bed. The mouse was caught. There's nothing under your bed.
You dreamt it, my internal voice continued. You were dreaming about weird noises, but now that you've woken up, you can't hear him. Because you stopped dreaming.
As much as I repeated the calming thoughts, the nagging just wouldn't go away. I hadn't dreamt it. I had woken up and heard the end sound of some scurrying under my bed. Like something was crawling right under the mattress, walking against the walls.
I got up. I swung my feet wide from the edge of the bed. I walked to the doorway, and crouched down on my hands and knees, to scan from a distance if anything was under the bed.
When I saw the large lump under the bed I got a small heart attack, until I realised that it was just a spare blanket that we sometimes use to hang in front of our blinds in summer when the morning light becomes too bright. I moved my eyes around, adjusting to the dim light under the bed, until I came to the bedside drawer. My bedside drawer.
There was a very small, roundish object, under the bedside drawer, right up against the wall.
My breathing increased. I tried to rationalise. What could be under there? The cables from my alarm clock and my lamp? No, they wouldn't bundle into a circle like that. I stared the bundle down, knowing full well that if it moved I would scream and shout like no tomorrow.
I remembered Hubbie's flashlight was in his bedside drawer, and so I quickly and tentatively walked over there, still trying to keep a view of the floor in our room. Although it's a good brand flashlight (that you can tell from how freaking heavy it is) for some reason the light flickers when it's on, and we've barely used it. So I'm desperately knocking it lightly with my hand, pleading with it, as the light flickers on, then off. "Please work, please please please...."
Finally it stayed on. I swung the light under the bedside drawer, to see that it was a definite object, no bunch of cables there. But I still couldn't work out what it was, crouching from the other end of the room.
So I stepped onto the bed, walked over to the wall side up near the pillows, and shone the light down, behind the drawer, pressing my face against the wall to see.
And I saw 2 little eyes glinting in the light.
I started to gingerly step from one side of the bed to its end, and as softly yet as quickly as I could, I stepped off and closed the door behind me.
"Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God. There's a mouse in my room. Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God." I remembered my Mum's words from a few days earlier. The mouse had come into my bedroom to see my perfumes!
I was in full flight mode, with a good dose of fight, as I remembered the mouse trap we had in the kitchen. I carefully picked it up, terrified it was going to go off, and ran back up the stairs.
I opened the door slowly. Set the mouse trap down near the door. Checked again under the drawer. Yep, mouse was still there. Closed the door and down the stairs I ran.
I hadn't even had a chance to grab my nightgown, and I wasn't gonna chance going into my bedroom again. First thing in my manic hysteria and disbelief: call Hubbie.
I got put through and immediately spoke the words he'd only days before spoken to me: "don't be alarmed, but there is a mouse in our bedroom, under our bed."
I explained how I came to hear/see it. I knew there wasn't much he could do since he was at work, but I just had to vent my frustrations and fears, and we hung up, me sensing the dread and disappointment in his voice. We'd both thought we'd got it, the mouse. But it seems as if there was another one waiting in the wings....
I ended up calling my parents, and they came over shortly after. While I waited I ate cereal on the couch, the throw gathered around me, throwing suspicious looks towards the stairs, wondering if and when I would hear a snap!
When they arrived, I went up with Dad to do some investigating. I never intended on going too far, as just from opening the door I could tell the mouse was still not caught - the trap was empty. My Dad decided to bring the mouse trap 'closer' to the mouse behind the drawer, and in horror I realised he meant CLOSE. He was taking the mouse trap right up to the drawer, as if 10 centimetres from, against the wall. I was calling out "Dad, it will run!" and freaking out, when the mouse ran along the length of the back wall. I screamed. It disappeared behind the bed along the wall again. My Mum called out to me from downstairs "come here Miss S, don't watch." As I quickly shut the door and ran I heard my Dad calling out "well, where do you want me to put the trap then?"
After sitting downstairs and freaking out for a bit, Dad came downstairs, saying that it was going to be impossible for him to catch the mouse, there had to be 2 people in the room. I told him to wait until Hubbie got home and they could do it together. Lo and behold it was as if Hubbie read my mind. He was owed some hours off, and so took that day as an opportunity to come home to our mouse crisis. He called me, and said he was on his way.
When Hubbie came home, the formalities were few: hello, how are you - let's go upstairs. Up he and Dad went, into a room already with 2 mouse traps (Dad had set up another) to catch the mouse. I was getting grossed out when they started asking for footwear to borrow in order to 'catch' it. Ew. Double Ew. Triple Ew. Ew, ew, ew.
Mum and I were downstairs at the table, talking all things mice. At one point we heard Hubbie go "ohhhhh" in deep realisation, and I wondered whether they had caught it. But still nothing. And then there was a loud noise. I stood up, waiting to hear the opening of the door, and soon it came followed by my Dad's asking for a bag. It was dead. Mouse no more.
They told us that it was impossible to catch. Just when they went to take a swing at it as it flew out from one end of the room to another, it was gone before their arm was even coming down. They said it never would have gotten caught if it weren't for the mouse trap. It ran straight into it.
After the whole debacle, we sat around drinking tea and eating cookies, while I recounted my morning horror again to them all in full detail. It was a story I was never going to forget. We were still wondering how the mouse had gotten into the bedroom, and I suggested that back when Hubbie and I were chasing it on the Friday night, maybe it had gone up the stairs somehow, like I thought I'd seen from the corner of my eye. Maybe it waited behind a couch, and then when we were gone went searching upstairs for food. The one caught in the garage that morning, that one I believe was the partner, coming in search of its mate. Although we were pretty satisfied that being a couple, there shouldn't be anymore, we still kept a few mouse traps around: one in our bedroom, one in the garage and one in the extra bedroom.
Why the extra bedroom you may ask? Well shortly following the whole mouse catching episode, we curiously went around the rooms, and realised that the mouse that had been in our bedroom had been in our spare bedroom with the easter eggs that couldn't fit into our pantry, and had knawed through a Lindt bunny's head, leaving bits of gold foil around the carpet. It was so disgusting, but it made sense: it went from room to room looking for more food. Why it didn't just stay in that room and keep eating, is beyond me. Maybe they're not so smart.
A day later, and back in that same spare bedroom I realised another Lindt bunny had had a section of it's ears eaten. We were freaked out, because we hadn't noticed it the day before, making us believe there was still a mouse in the house! Hubbie and I went on a massive excavation, moving all objects in all rooms and searching within and behind all furniture, nooks and crannies. Nothing. It left us with a sense of relief, but that doubt over why we hadn't noticed the 2nd eaten bunny earlier was grating on us, making us think constantly "what if?"
Hubbie sent me the best msg a few days later. I was at work, he at home, and he sms'd me this:
"I also put foil around the chocolate upstairs to see whether we still have company. Left the room door open to kindly invite him in."
His ploy being if the mouse were there, it would have to eat through fresh foil again, and we would then know for sure that there was another mouse. Fortunately for us nothing else has come up since, no sighting, and just yesterday Hubbie movied the mouse traps into the garage. We believe we are now mouse free!
What have we learned from this situation? Never leave sizeable gaps under any of your doors. Dad was able to patch it up immediately for us, and we discovered there was a decent hole in the brick wall of our garage that has now been filled in with a few chunks of wood.
Also, we've heard over the last while that there has been many, many, many reports of an influx of mice entering homes and backyards all over our region, due to the amount of rain that has been falling. It makes us feel that much better knowing the mice didn't necessarily choose our house because we were grotty (we're not) - rather they're all just running.
But like I say to the bugs that enter our home, before I smack them down with my shoe
"Why didn't you stay outside? Outside I don't touch you; in here, all bets are off!"
And so ends our Mouse-capade Adventure....
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
My friend Karma
I have a very strong faith in Karma. It's something I learnt, in a very hard way when I was 16, whilst at high school and having an intense friendship break-up. People may think 'oh, all that high school melodrama is just a part of growing up.' But the way you interpret your life's dramas, whether big or small, kind of sets you up for the way you'll deal with other tough scenarios for the rest of your life.
And in any of these tough cases I've come across and had to endure, I learnt that whenever there was a difficult person who seemed to be getting away with doing something bad which I couldn't change or help, the expectance of Karma was very much welcomed.
That first time I learnt to depend on Karma at the age of 16, I had to endure many months of strained friendships and life uncertainty before seeing Karma's appearance start to make a change in not only my life for the better, but also appear as the undeniable avenger in the lives of those who had wronged me. When I hadn't known what to do, I'd simply stated "I release this, and believe that Karma will make those pay if they deserve it." I had to focus all of my attention on that thought, and hope and pray that I was right, that retribution would come to those who had asked for it. And slowly but surely, it did. It was a slow process, but in the spate of about 6 months the dynamics had shifted dramatically, and as I sit here today, knowledgable about the lives of those I'd separated from over a decade ago, I'm even more aware now of not only the pure fact of Karma's existence - because it is just that, a fact - but also that the power of positive vs. negative energies is a game in which both sides always win. Just think about that one for a moment.
Not only do I play by Karma's law, because I want to attract good things - but I do so for a genuine reason, I actually do want good, and wish good for others. And I try, try, try not to care too much about the wrong-doings of others, confident in the knowledge that Karma will 'fix them up' if they deserve it. Well, generally confident.
And that's the thought that has lead me to this place. This place of lately feeling like God's avenger, a righter of wrongs that needs to let people know they've done bad. Yes I realise how comical that may sound but it's true. I have this raw instinct in me to let people know when they've pissed me off - yes that quality a lot of people have I'm sure. However at times, depending on how intense I feel about the wrong-doing, and in particularly how often a certain offender may re-offend, I feel even more driven to the extreme border of earth-bound and born retaliator.
Haha, me in terminator gear, how funny. Seriously though, it does get to me. Thankfully, I've once again had my aha! moment in regards to Karma, because of some interesting news I heard yesterday.
No-show-boy, myself and another colleague were having a tea break late last night. He started saying how he'd had a Saturday day shift, the one that's just passed, and was supposed to start at 2pm. Because of some 'things' he had to attend to in the day (and also to the fact he fell asleep on his couch), on top of the fact that he had misinterpreted the 1400 work start time written on his hand to mean 4:00pm, rather than the 2pm reminder it was meant to be, he came into work a little later than usual. And guess who, unknown to him was already at work, waiting for him?
Our boss.
Dum, da dum dum.
She's really a very good boss. She is very accomodating to our out-of-work needs and requirements, and you could say, is very cool.
She's also the sort of person to really let you have it if you take advantage of her easygoing nature, which is what happened to No-show-boy. The other colleague and I sat there wide-mouthed as he told us how she completely went off at him for being late, especially since there had been some kind of request made to our department in regards to an error, and as no one was here to represent our team she was called.
Ouch. That's nasty.
It was only then that I realised what had been happening. Here I was, keeping notes on his absences from work, and counting the minutes he was away from his desk per day (maybe not counting, but I was being a complete tardy-freak), not so I could tell somebody, I'm not a dibby-dobber, more so for my own records to satisfy my curiosity of how far he would push it. Last week I sort of said to myself, quite subconsciously of any Karma that may take part "I'm letting this go, I can't do anything about it. And if he's as bad as I think he is (tardy-wise) then the bosses will EVENTUALLY find out."
And they seriously did, within a week. Not that they didn't know already. Really, you can't keep secrets like those, everyone's true character comes out eventually.
And it made me think. This Karma re-appearing in front of me, made me think that perhaps I should 'let certain things go' about other troublesome characters in my life. Let them go, and the hurt go, so that Karma can swoop in and fix it up for me..... After all, Karma does as its definition is.
It's worth a shot.
There's a quote I heard a while ago that has stuck with me ever since, something I believe you cannot get away from, therefore you must endeavour not to run away from it in the first place.
"No matter how deep you bury your seeds, they will always be unearthed."
And in any of these tough cases I've come across and had to endure, I learnt that whenever there was a difficult person who seemed to be getting away with doing something bad which I couldn't change or help, the expectance of Karma was very much welcomed.
That first time I learnt to depend on Karma at the age of 16, I had to endure many months of strained friendships and life uncertainty before seeing Karma's appearance start to make a change in not only my life for the better, but also appear as the undeniable avenger in the lives of those who had wronged me. When I hadn't known what to do, I'd simply stated "I release this, and believe that Karma will make those pay if they deserve it." I had to focus all of my attention on that thought, and hope and pray that I was right, that retribution would come to those who had asked for it. And slowly but surely, it did. It was a slow process, but in the spate of about 6 months the dynamics had shifted dramatically, and as I sit here today, knowledgable about the lives of those I'd separated from over a decade ago, I'm even more aware now of not only the pure fact of Karma's existence - because it is just that, a fact - but also that the power of positive vs. negative energies is a game in which both sides always win. Just think about that one for a moment.
Not only do I play by Karma's law, because I want to attract good things - but I do so for a genuine reason, I actually do want good, and wish good for others. And I try, try, try not to care too much about the wrong-doings of others, confident in the knowledge that Karma will 'fix them up' if they deserve it. Well, generally confident.
And that's the thought that has lead me to this place. This place of lately feeling like God's avenger, a righter of wrongs that needs to let people know they've done bad. Yes I realise how comical that may sound but it's true. I have this raw instinct in me to let people know when they've pissed me off - yes that quality a lot of people have I'm sure. However at times, depending on how intense I feel about the wrong-doing, and in particularly how often a certain offender may re-offend, I feel even more driven to the extreme border of earth-bound and born retaliator.
Haha, me in terminator gear, how funny. Seriously though, it does get to me. Thankfully, I've once again had my aha! moment in regards to Karma, because of some interesting news I heard yesterday.
No-show-boy, myself and another colleague were having a tea break late last night. He started saying how he'd had a Saturday day shift, the one that's just passed, and was supposed to start at 2pm. Because of some 'things' he had to attend to in the day (and also to the fact he fell asleep on his couch), on top of the fact that he had misinterpreted the 1400 work start time written on his hand to mean 4:00pm, rather than the 2pm reminder it was meant to be, he came into work a little later than usual. And guess who, unknown to him was already at work, waiting for him?
Our boss.
Dum, da dum dum.
She's really a very good boss. She is very accomodating to our out-of-work needs and requirements, and you could say, is very cool.
She's also the sort of person to really let you have it if you take advantage of her easygoing nature, which is what happened to No-show-boy. The other colleague and I sat there wide-mouthed as he told us how she completely went off at him for being late, especially since there had been some kind of request made to our department in regards to an error, and as no one was here to represent our team she was called.
Ouch. That's nasty.
It was only then that I realised what had been happening. Here I was, keeping notes on his absences from work, and counting the minutes he was away from his desk per day (maybe not counting, but I was being a complete tardy-freak), not so I could tell somebody, I'm not a dibby-dobber, more so for my own records to satisfy my curiosity of how far he would push it. Last week I sort of said to myself, quite subconsciously of any Karma that may take part "I'm letting this go, I can't do anything about it. And if he's as bad as I think he is (tardy-wise) then the bosses will EVENTUALLY find out."
And they seriously did, within a week. Not that they didn't know already. Really, you can't keep secrets like those, everyone's true character comes out eventually.
And it made me think. This Karma re-appearing in front of me, made me think that perhaps I should 'let certain things go' about other troublesome characters in my life. Let them go, and the hurt go, so that Karma can swoop in and fix it up for me..... After all, Karma does as its definition is.
It's worth a shot.
There's a quote I heard a while ago that has stuck with me ever since, something I believe you cannot get away from, therefore you must endeavour not to run away from it in the first place.
"No matter how deep you bury your seeds, they will always be unearthed."
Friday, June 3, 2011
There's something in the air
I haven't written in this blog for soooo long. So I guess there's no time like the present to let you know about the weather today.
Waking up, though we're still only a few days into Winter (and I remind you that it is a Melbourne Winter which means it started in April) I actually felt on the warm side, and didn't need to grab at my nightgown as soon as I stepped out of bed.
I thought to myself "naughty weather, you can't trick me," and still dressed appropriately for what I felt would be a cold day: 17 degrees, bit breezy with isolated showers. I didn't go over-the-top with a long jacket or anything, we just came off a few days of cold but sunny 19 degree weather.
And maybe that's what it is. Coming off of those sunny winter days, although still cold, the air had a warm tinge to it this morning as I walked into work, magenta beanie, oversized white wooly scarf protecting me from any bayside breezes that may come my way. But no jacket of course.
And as I sit here at my desk, I have that feeling. You know the one you get when you're in the midst of summer, and suddenly a cold change comes along, with rain and wind and all? I've got that feeling, that sense that a change is near, a 180 gust that will move with it all nature, people and events. A change is around the corner, and it's unexpectedness and unpredictability is a most welcome relief.
But then again it could just be because today is Friday and everyone is super relaxed:)
P.S I'm up to chapter 5 of my book! (Fist pump, go me!)
P.P.S Stay tuned to this space, as I will soon be filling you in on perhaps the biggest of the past month's events, the one including THE MOUSE. Why should I keep this story to myself, when I could be sharing my spent pain, agony, and paranoia with you?
Waking up, though we're still only a few days into Winter (and I remind you that it is a Melbourne Winter which means it started in April) I actually felt on the warm side, and didn't need to grab at my nightgown as soon as I stepped out of bed.
I thought to myself "naughty weather, you can't trick me," and still dressed appropriately for what I felt would be a cold day: 17 degrees, bit breezy with isolated showers. I didn't go over-the-top with a long jacket or anything, we just came off a few days of cold but sunny 19 degree weather.
And maybe that's what it is. Coming off of those sunny winter days, although still cold, the air had a warm tinge to it this morning as I walked into work, magenta beanie, oversized white wooly scarf protecting me from any bayside breezes that may come my way. But no jacket of course.
And as I sit here at my desk, I have that feeling. You know the one you get when you're in the midst of summer, and suddenly a cold change comes along, with rain and wind and all? I've got that feeling, that sense that a change is near, a 180 gust that will move with it all nature, people and events. A change is around the corner, and it's unexpectedness and unpredictability is a most welcome relief.
But then again it could just be because today is Friday and everyone is super relaxed:)
P.S I'm up to chapter 5 of my book! (Fist pump, go me!)
P.P.S Stay tuned to this space, as I will soon be filling you in on perhaps the biggest of the past month's events, the one including THE MOUSE. Why should I keep this story to myself, when I could be sharing my spent pain, agony, and paranoia with you?
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
High as a Kite
As much as I try to look beyond the surface of things, and learn about the world, and in general make myself as well-rounded, worldly and knowledgable as I possibly can, sometimes my naivety fails me. There will be a person that I unfairly judge. A situation that appears to be bad, that is in fact to my favour. Looking through my rose-coloured glasses, hopeful and brimming with love, I believe certain people around me will get along, failing to see their flaws, contradictory natures and incompatible views. It works both ways: positive turns to negative, and negative turns to positive.
There is one thing however that no one could ever fail to miss, no matter how naive at times you might be. And that is when your co-worker comes in to work, eyes as wide as golf balls, pupils as black as the night.
Like a demon out of Angel, it's disturbing and scary. And like my Mum says, you definitely 'know what time it is,' at that sight.
No-show boy, came into work yesterday, 40 minutes late, with his eyes as wide as a little boys who had seen a ghost. When I turned to him, I immediately thought to myself "he looks different." His eyes seemed to be stretched open, with his pupils burning black right back at me. I quickly said hello, made some small talk to him and then swivelled my chair back to my desk. He looked so frightening. He seemed more mellow, and spaced out, yet at the same time more cheery, as seen by his relaxed and happy display when he said hi to Densley.
I know he's harmless (fingers crossed) but I was freaked out by how weird he looked. His eyes were almost bottomless, as if I was looking into an endless black pool of nothingness. I avoided him 'til after lunch, when his eyes returned back to normal.
So weird. People, don't stuff yourself up. Stay sane, use your brain and don't let substances take control of your life. That's all I have to say.
There is one thing however that no one could ever fail to miss, no matter how naive at times you might be. And that is when your co-worker comes in to work, eyes as wide as golf balls, pupils as black as the night.
Like a demon out of Angel, it's disturbing and scary. And like my Mum says, you definitely 'know what time it is,' at that sight.
No-show boy, came into work yesterday, 40 minutes late, with his eyes as wide as a little boys who had seen a ghost. When I turned to him, I immediately thought to myself "he looks different." His eyes seemed to be stretched open, with his pupils burning black right back at me. I quickly said hello, made some small talk to him and then swivelled my chair back to my desk. He looked so frightening. He seemed more mellow, and spaced out, yet at the same time more cheery, as seen by his relaxed and happy display when he said hi to Densley.
I know he's harmless (fingers crossed) but I was freaked out by how weird he looked. His eyes were almost bottomless, as if I was looking into an endless black pool of nothingness. I avoided him 'til after lunch, when his eyes returned back to normal.
So weird. People, don't stuff yourself up. Stay sane, use your brain and don't let substances take control of your life. That's all I have to say.
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