It is 1.20am and I am blogging. I am at my parent's place for the week, and even with dial-up internet I am here. That means I have a a 1m cord attaching me to the kitchen phone. No more sitting in bed with the internet, no-no. The internet may cut out at any time. I can not upload any photos at all to dailybooth, or look at Google Reader, or watch youtube, or any of that stuff. Yet I am here. To be disciplined I usually leave my laptop unplugged which means a maximum of 30minute internet time, until my battery dies. Nope. I'm plugged in, too. An insomniac AND an internet addict.
The other night I was up until 4am. Last night I went to sleep at 10pm. If we ignore the fact I took THREE melatonin tablets last night to help me sleep, I can probably tell the difference. Screens and thinking and books greatly decrease my ability to sleep. Tonight, I.. what did I do until I wanted to sleep? I can't remember. But also I slept during the day. When I am at my parent's house I find it hard to not sleep during the day. Mum does. Kids do. It is quiet and the leather couches are so soft and the sun is warm and whatnot. Anyway I ended up half-asleep-asleep somehow between one and three, when I had PLANNED to get WORK done. I woke up to two men in the house being crude/immature about an energy drink called 'Helen's Melons' with a badly-drawn cartoon of this massiveboobed chick in not much clothing holding watermelons. Oh and it was all red-themed, like Labour, like politics. And they were sharing this drink, and telling me I didn't understand how funny it was because I was a woman. Glad to have an affirmation there of my womanhood. sarcasm. I have been a bit frustrated this week how that sentence is used as a reason for a lot of things. You don't understand because you are a woman.
My good notion for the night is of course that really I shouldn't be watching screens or any of that rot after like 9, or sleep is just bad. I don't quite know what to do about this. It is like the doctor telling Taylor not to type for a month. In this world.. it's not really gonna happen. On top of bad sleep, my study regime also disappeared this last while, and I'm going to have to work hard and fast to get the desired A+s. Good notions and sleeping potions. I would rather opt for sleeping potions, but I actually don't like screens anyway. But I do feel like I have an addiction. A legit one. Not even addiction. Just that..life.
So I've been doing a lot of thinking. This is not news. I came up with a brilliant quote today, but I forgot it. Something about.. this year started off to be about others but it has ended up as a reflection of self. Which some days I like and some days I hate and feel self-obsessed, but in the end I will look back and this year and say I learned a lot about myself, and got to do some honest reflection. Really, this knowledge of self means I can better assist others, knowing my strengths and weaknesses a lot better. And a lot of the self-reflection and analysis and psychological stuff has definitely helped me understand others, especially when you work alongside them. Of course this is good too.
I've been thinking a lot about work. Work as in the wages and shift type. I have done a bit of work in my life. I have waitressed and bartended (both experiences led to sexual advances/attention, sighs) and sold hot chips from a caravan and scooped ice cream and marketed ice cream and supervised other girls selling ice cream and been the girl in the supermarket who nags you to try her free samples of ice cream.. etc. etc. I have babysat and lifted lambs into docking chutes and packed peaches and plums and apples and nectarines into boxes. None of this work is overly skilled. My favourite was marketing. Basically I got to go to fancy events e.g tennis matches, food expos, fancy home and wine trails, wine days, and sell ice-cream. I call it marketing because I was normally by myself, and I often had to really persuade people to fork out their money. I liked it because I was a) alone (I'm fine with working in a team, but being your own boss, having no one over your shoulder, is quite wonderful) b) got to talk with strangers, either persuading them to buy a fancy product, or, talking to them about the wonderful Hawke's Bay and New Zealand, and ask them about their travels etc. c) be persuasive d) better-paid etc.
But while I have done this work, I have a confession to make. I have never REALLY liked work. This doesn't mean I am a generally lazy person, but it does mean when it comes to that sort of work.. after school high school jobs.. I never could understand when people LOVED going to work. I pretty much always dreaded it. If I had work at 4-8pm, then in maths class at 2 I would be apprehensive, pondering how I would ensure the shift went well and the girls worked hard and all the cleaning was done in time etc. I much preferred learning about books and thinking etc. Which of course is how I am more inclined, but a girl has to work to eat, and all of that. My grandma always said to me: 'It's just a means to an end." And it was. I worked so I could go to university. So while I was happy to work, and a hard-working reliable worker (just ask me for the reference letter ;) I never was fantastic at making work my life, or looking for jobs.
Most of this is because I hate feeling incapable. I think I am a capable woman, yet the first day, the interview, the first while, you are the newbie. You don't know anything. No one cares how smart you are or that you can write poetry and write a damn good essay, they just know you are the new kid, and that means you suck. They assume you will suck. Secondly is I am very in tune with the emotional environment, and I just hate how most workplaces (I'm talking about high school jobs here) are not very friendly. I take all the emotions of everyone on board. I take them to heart. This doesn't work well in waitressing which is a stressful environment and everyone's yelling and swearing. I'm a big softie. Words make or break me. Words is my number one love language, above all else. It is true and I have accepted it. But I just hate feeling incapable and when they're all yelling I feel very very incapable even if it's nothing to do with me, they're just yelling at you 'cause you're the closest front-of-house staff.
I did love the marketing, see, because by picking me as the girl to do the independent marketing jobs, my boss made me feel very capable. She made me feel like I wasn't just your average sixteen-year-old, but she trusted me to handle money (even take it home after a day out, then bring in the next day) alone, to represent the company well. I could use my abilities (read: talking to strangers) in a more skilled role. I lapped it up. I liked the independence, to do things, arrange the presentation as I saw fit. Man I loved that boss. To be firm and clearly in charge yet warm, friendly and wonderful with your staff is a hard, hard balance to find.
This is all irrevelant, what is relevant is that I have been thinking about jobs. Part of the reason I haven't got a part-time job this year (apart from transport, safety etc) is this fear of incapability, of the long process it takes to be recognised as a good worker. That's all I want, generally, is to hear a supervisor/boss acknowledge I am a good worker. Especially when I was was like sixteen, man, I just wanted to scream 'Let me prove I am not your average ditzy boy-consumed texting-under-the-counter lazy sixteen year old girl." Man, this is a very confessional. It is hard, you know, to be confessional of this nature when it all sounds very self-consumed. I WANT TO BE RECOGNISED WA WA. Also, a lot of minimum-wage jobs are not happy environments. It is sad but true. Often the adults who work there are working long hours to pay the rent and they have full-time families and they're supervising a bunch of young people and they assume you will be bad. And treat you accordingly.
Tonight, lying there in my not-sleeping state, I was thinking about why one should work. Because, next year (like this year), I don't absolutely have to work to live. We have this lovely government who will pay the rent because I will be studying hard for some arts degree. If I don't work, I will be extremely poor, but I will be alive. Better yet, I will even be able to eat. And not just toast. But not much else. You get the drift.
I am at my parents house this week, as I have mentioned. And I was thinking about how I prefer not to live at my parents house. My preferable option is to never live here ever again. They're lovely people and all, it's just the way I prefer to live. And I was thinking about why I have to live here this coming summer. And of course it comes down to not being afford to live anywhere else. Lack of money equals lack of independence. Mum and Dad charge a lot less than the market does. I am planning to find work next year. I am thinking a supermarket is my number one option (easy to get work off, lots of people to talk to, decent hours) and I was just thinking work to make life a bit more comfortable next year. Bus fares, a few books, the odd bottle of wine, POSTAGE STAMPS, postcards, money to help others I come across, maybe the odd flight to Auckland/Christchurch/Dunedin/Australia if I can find cheap ones. My life would be a lot easier with a bit more money. Of course, everyone's would. (Well not the extremely rich, but I don't really know any to compare)
But tonight I was also thinking about a text from Wilbur, who had said my only 'real option' for next summer was to hitch and poetry-busk and dumpster dive and live off friends-of-friends-of-friends, which of course sounds wonderful. So I thought, okay why can't I do that? No money for accommodation there. And of course, the answer then was, lack of finance. Because I would need money over summer for the following year's accommodation/bond/textbooks/even fees. etc. A bit of security in the bank means I feel much more likely to be spontaneous and risky. (Let's remember I hate debt, with a passion) So once again, lack of money deems me dependent/not independent to do these free and easy things.
Therefore, working during the tertiary year turns from not just being about
a) a bit of comfort during an otherwise poor student year, but also
b) more independence and choice over how I spend my summers, which frankly is a much more attractive reason to work, for me.
I don't really mind being a poor student, but I do mind feeling stuck at my parent's home when I would rather be
a) living and working in Wellington over Summer (but I would need to work a lot more during the week because the government would not be paying my rent, would they, and I would need to be working super a lot, AND have savings already, in order to save any money for the following year, which is the purpose of working over summer, when you could be gallivanting in the sunshine)
b) living and working in Wellington and doing one random interesting paper at university over summer. I would need to work a lot, and find a job to fit around university = highly unlikely, UNLESS I could live with a proper family, which is pretty much always cheaper. Or some cool random adult church-ministry friends.. yes I have ideas. And contacts.
c) gallivanting and hitchhiking around the country, preferably the South Island or even the West Coast/Northland of the North Island.
d) gallivanting and working in the South Island. (Could be cheap if I could live with people)
e) gallivanting.. anywhere. Living in the back of a car tenting on beaches swimming in the sea. etc.
So, this conclusion has led me to reason that I really should be working during the year. It is hard to find work. I see getting a supermarket job as competitive as a top academic scholarship. It is that hard. This is also why I am not good at being motivated about these things. It can make you feel a bit silly if you see yourself as intelligent and can't even get a simple, minimum-wage job. Of course this sounds arrogant but it is the truth. I know there is a high chance of rejection, and I hate feeling rejected. Constant rejection is hard. I have sometimes had a problem with this. Like in Year 8 I didn't run for Class Councillor because I couldn't handle the thought of the fear of no one putting their hands up for me. This probably wouldn't have happened. I wasn't that unpopular. I must have gotten over this by the latter part of high school because I ran for and succeeded in a) Deputy Head Girl b) a scholarship where I was interrogated for half an hour by five top-notch women b) A free trip to Christchurch. I did a ten minute speech to the mayor and councillors on why i was amazing and they should send me. I eye-balled them HARD. So clearly my rejection complex has SLIGHTLY gone but it doesn't make job hunting any easier.
I fear this is too honest for the Internet. Forgive me. It is almost three in the morning. On Tuesday I am giving my life story to Intermission, my class who I have journeyed with this year. I find that honesty easy. I can detail my life experiences, good, bad, embarrassing, explicit, whatever, and self-reflect and say what I have learned. Mainly because I have had plenty of practice. I have told parts of my life story to many people. I am an open book. But to say that you have a fear of job hunting because getting rejected constantly makes me feel stupid because I think I have good intellect and THEY DON'T THINK I'M GOOD ENOUGH TO FLIP BURGERS?.. i.e I think I am too good for bum jobs (not true, but it sounds that way if you try to explain it) that is a different sort of honesty. That is an honesty that is a bit more vulnerable, because people will respond with a judgement call. I haven't yet 'owned' that part of me, whereas other parts of me, that could perhaps be more embarrassing on the details but less so because I have accepted them and figured out how to tell them well.. I have owned. I have not owned that I tend to dislike shift jobs because I hate being treated like I'm less smart than I am..
Also, if I link you to my good friend's blogs.. it's because they are worth reading. Like this blog and this blog. If you have even got to this point then I would say you would like Taylor's blog because he thinks about stuff and you would like Wilbur's blog because he thinks about stuff. In turn, they make me think about stuff. I think I make them think about stuff. In general, we are three who like thinking about stuff. Perhaps this is why they both study Philosophy and I study Theology. Big stuff in those two subjects to think about.
I really need to stop talking now. It is late. I am no more tired! (Blogging generally wears me, but instead I am typing fast and frantic and happy) and I'll end up being far too honest, again. This self-analysis, man.
Today's Mental Checklist
1. Things I know for sure - quite a few
2. Things I don't know for sure - quite a few more
3. Things I'll discover I don't know as I go along (only a rough estimate) - about as much as things I currently don't know
4. Things I tell my children that I don't believe myself - lots, but now they're older I tell them I'm making it up & they can believe it at their own risk
5. things that make sense if you stop to think about it a. in daylight - lot unless there's media or government involved b. late at night - almost nothing, so it's better to just go back to sleep
6. Things I believe that people a thousand years ago believed, too - quite a few but I lived in L.A. when I was younger, so I have a good excuse - StoryPeople
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