Tuesday, April 10, 2007

In a post full of cliches (that serve only to prove her continued unemployability), lilwatchergirl attempts to address the subject of WORK

I miss work. I really do. I've been a workaholic since I was about twelve. Not entirely healthy, especially not regular 60+ hour weeks - but oh what fun it all is. I miss lively 16-year-olds who talk too much and do no work. I miss coffee-and-cake breaks with colleagues where we whinge about lively 16-year-olds who talk too much and do no work. I miss getting in at 7.30am to grab a cuppa and some quiet desk space so I can get creative in my lesson planning. I think I even miss marking... OK, maybe not that.

There was a very part-time youth service outreach post advertised this week. I could do it with my eyes shut (and, perhaps more importantly, from a wheelchair if necessary). It looks great and could be a really interesting challenge. I still haven't decided whether or not to apply for it. I'm leaning towards 'no', however. I've been seeing a slow but definite improvement (in my terms - not everyone would see it in me), in pain levels especially. This is making me wonder, about 30% of the the time, whether I could take on the employment world again. Unfortunately, when I translate it into action, I find that I can't walk down the high street without a major relapse or read a book without falling asleep. This would not make for a productive Naomi. I need to be careful not to run before I can get out of the wheelchair... and so I should really be looking into voluntary work etc. Which I am. It's just all so frustrating, though. I was not blessed with the virtue of patience (or, to put it as my mother does, "You want everything yesterday"). So I should probably be cultivating it. Um. How does one go about that?

He has shown you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To do justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God... - Micah 6:8

In news from the TV world: Life on Mars. Now there's an ending. Made my week, that did. Buffy eat your heart out. (One day I'll be able to review things with words of more than one syllable again. No, really I will.) And in my reading adventures: Muriel Spark writes like a very twisted late-1950s semi-surrealist literary angel, and I am trying to conquer various books on NLP and starting your own business. In that order.

Don't forget the Great London Trek blog. Give us your money... I can't I need it I'm homeless Oh, go on. :D


Anonymous said...

Hi Naomi
With regard to the ending to Life on Mars, I thought this was very very sad. He commits suicide in real life to stay in 1973? I can imagine several clinically depressed bipolars trying the same thing that very night .....

Naomi J. said...

Bipolarworks: I didn't 'read' the ending in that way. I don't think he ever woke up; I definitely don't think he committed suicide. There were definitely signs that he either didn't wake up, or was never from the future in the first place (i.e. was 'mad', as he put it himself - much as I don't like that word). I 'read' it as a VERY positive thing - a choice of life over the living death he had previously been experiencing. One could argue that he chose the exact opposite of suicide; that he abandoned his delusions and chose reality. I think that's a great example, and a really interesting metaphor.