I've got the post-holiday blues in a bad, bad way. For one, I'm really, really jet lagged, which is making all the little annoyances utterly unbearable. Such as the fact that it's stupidly hot and humid here. There's no good TV in this stupid country. And what's with the generally poor quality of weekend newspapers around here?
I haven't got a job at the moment, which is stressing me out a bit. I have been extremely happy as a lady of leisure for the last few months, and would be happy to continue loafing except that I haven't had a job since August of last year, and the tank is running a little dry. I have applied for the job seekers allowance, something that feels very odd to me. I've never had anything at all from the gov'ment (except for indirectly through Jo's student allowance), and it feels very wrong to ask for money. Much in the same way that I have trouble with the whole Facebook thing because I am basically incredibly socially awkward and given to endlessly dissecting my interactions with human beings, trying to determine whether I had at any point said or done anything offensive or that might have put me in a bad light. Being so forward as to ask someone to be friends with me goes against every perpetually ill at ease bone in my body, and asking for money, even when I am fully entitled to it, makes me even more uncomfortable.
Which means that I have to get a job as soon as possible so that I can go to Centrelink and proudly declare that I no longer need their money, because I am a good person who deserves a gold star. Job hunting sucks at the best of times, but right now I'm so tired that I can barely form coherent sentences, and I'm also incredibly depressed at the fact that Dee Why stubbornly refuses to magically transform itself into Pamplona. Every day, same old suburb. Sadly, no one has as yet has offered to pay me to sit around reading and looking at the internet for hours a day, which is where I feel my talents lie. The kinds of jobs I'm going for generally have requirements along the lines of 'excellent communication skills' and 'attention to detail', and these are things that I am not really au fait with just at the moment. The last cover letter I wrote used the word 'skills' in every sentence, and ended with a long, rambling paragraph about how I am really good at saying stuff and things. No one wants to employ jet lagged Tash.
And, just to top it all off, I got a letter from the tax office today informing me that I owe them quite a lot of money which is now very overdue, and if I don't pay it by the 1st of February they are going to take me to court. This was the first I'd heard of any of this, so I called the ATO in something of a tizz and had a little cry down the phone to the call centre guy who was obviously very uncomfortable about having a sobbing, wheezing woman on the other end of the line. It turns out that I have to start making HECS repayments because I earned $150 over the threshold in the last financial year. If I'd known this, I would have taken a day off work last year and wouldn't be in this position.
So I suppose the take away message from all of this is; I'm tired. I'm sad. And it's too freaking hot around here.
Luckily, I found something to cheer me up when I was browsing through some photos from our trip. On our last day in London we were walking through a park when we were accosted by a squirrel, which made Jo's day. I know that all English people are required by law to hate squirrels, but to backwards colonials like us they are the epitome of Beatrix Potter/Sylvanian Families charm. Ah. That's better. I feel much less like crying myself to sleep now. Thanks, adorable squirrel!
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