22 & not a clue

One extreme to the next is my preferred third gear, uncertainty being a comfortable second and worry a very reliable first. I am quickly learning that fear of the future will freeze you to the spot if you let it. That procrastination is very expensive and most importantly that sitting on your hands is sometimes the only thing you can do.

With somewhat guaranteed well paid temping work in one hand but a potentially career building internship in the other which do I choose? To be frank the question is null as I have neither had the interview nor gotten the job. Like I said one extreme to the next is my third gear. Regardless, I have been tossing it around in this cavern of mine all weekend, have driven one boyfriend and one mother absolutely scatty with the matter and tied myself in knots.

Why? For the simple reason that I am so keenly aware that every step I take now may determine my career path further down the line. So whilst temping will pay well, put my mum's nagging to rest and ease my bank balance, it won't particularly help my career. I am having to sit on my hands, and I hate it. I am having to weigh it all up and make an adult decision which may shape things to come in ways I can't even imagine at this point in time

But then, every thing I have done with my life to date was uncertain to me at one point in time, or were the beginnings of adult decisions which shaped events that came after. What makes this moment of uncertainty unique to me is that it has never concerned my career before - probably because I have never had one. Now as I stand tentatively clinging to this bottom rung I am frozen in how best to proceed.

So I am off to this interview, I am going to smash it, give myself more options and then make a decision. Until then I will sit on my hands and continue to have hypothetical conversations with myself, or to the dishes, or maybe even at a wall. I always did like Shirley Valentine.

I always say at some point I will turn my life into a book, or maybe a tv series. But then GIRLS happened & Lena Dunham stole all my ideas. Regardless I have to believe my life can't be this ridiculous without a good reason - to publish it.

What happened the other night is the stuff of nightmares. Living this far away from the origin of all yours sins sort of gives you an undue sense of confidence. You aren't going to run into any exes or bitches out here. But no one prepared me for running into their ghosts.

Sitting outside in the cool Melbourne air on Monday night; casually whiling away the hours before bed time & the start of yet another working week. A Flatmate had friends round & here enters our character: Adam. Adam is a Brit, but unlike ever other Pom round these parts he has a more sunny disposition. Everything had a silver lining to Adam's perspective & thank god for that.

We're chilling out, discussing hilarious and disastrous dating experiences in the efforts to cheer up a Canadian friend who has just been jilted by Love. It's my turn, which should I choose? There have been a few. One particular period stands out vividly but that's another story.

Adam hails from a particularly grey area of Essex where it just so happens an ex came from also. He reminds me of this & I laugh. I give away a few details; the predilection for weed, the disastrous hair & then finally the reason we parted: 'You should sleep with other people'.
"I mean who says that!?" I shouted. No but really? It wasn't until the final detail I revealed that Adam stands & is convinced that's his friend Blaine. 'It's Blaine! It is not Blaine! Ginger pubes? That's Blaine!'

Fuck. it was. But I mean how many guys from Essex do you know with ginger pubes & natural black hair? My horrendous romantic choices had come to haunt me & Adam was only too willing to tell me how pathetic they were. My flat mates couldn't get over it. This was hilarious. I wanted to be sick.

The topic didn't drop all night & I no longer feel safe in public. How many other ghosts are out there hidden behind the guise of a well meaning friend or acquaintance? I am living proof that you can come 10&1/2 Thousand miles & still be haunted by your past. Try as you might, no matter how much ice cream or wine you pile on top of that one there is no escaping your past. It will always be there like a spot without a head you are watching over in agony.

There is no escape Guys. I just take comfort in the knowledge that I didn't come out here running away from anything. This isn't an escape & despite my melodramatic musings: my history isn't that bad, but if it could be a while between this & the next ghost I'd appreciate it.