Tag Archives: Money

Reader’s Digest Summary

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So much going on my day and in my brain. Blood testing for diabetes, sewing a wedding ensemble, lots of walks on the beach, learning to crochet. Fireworks at my part-time job, winning a competition, knocking down walls, organising my life.

All while I am trying to build my website – and by did I am getting sick of it.

Christ knows how anyone can be a software developer. It must be so bloody frustrating. I take one step forward and then five or six back.

Anyway.
That’s life isn’t it?!?

So I’m going to ‘suck it up’ and just keep trying.

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My Last Apple

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Two glasses of champagne – in my tummy.

Tuesday night was the first time I have consumed alcohol since I decided it was the major contributor to my Clinical Depression. And while I have occasionally missed the experience of drinking champagne from my hand-blown glasses, the truth is that it hasn’t been difficult.
Even easy.

And I feel fine today, and I felt fine yesterday.

No lingering or niggling feelings of the Blues. I stopped after just two glasses and as I was not ‘topping up’ my alcohol level from any previous drinking sessions, my body metabolised the golden bubbles very quickly.

I do feel a little tired, but that’s only due to my insomnia. An annoying side-effect of The Black Dog that I’ve had for over a decade. I usually feel tired. Most days.

No matter.

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I didn’t think that I could manage to find more ways to cut my living costs – but the truth is that I need to find a way. Despite a part-time job, that I am increasingly grateful for, and avoiding all manner of expensive bibs ‘n bobs like going out, clothes & treats – I still can’t manage to save the money I need to build a kitchen.

So I need to find a new way to get more pennies into my piggy bank.

Buggar!

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 I was blessed with a special gift when I moved into the Purple House. An adult & fruit bearing apple tree – Royal Gala to be precise. How awesome is that?

And while the possums and rats have decimated the tree each summer, I have usually managed to protect at least one piece of fruit, each fruiting season.

Voile curtains have a better use than hanging from a window – like encasing budding apples on a tree to protect them from marauding marsupials!

This year, only one apple survived – which is a shame as I am removing the tree over winter.

.Last Apple

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All fruit trees have a ‘life’ and I’m fairly certain that my apple tree is over thirty years old. I can turn the branches into something crafty and the trunk will make it into the garden as sculptural stands for my numerous terracotta pots.

In it’s place I am planting a row of Peppie trees, so that the possums have somewhere to live and won’t reside in my ceiling any more.

Well that’s the plan, anyway.

Cross Your Fingers For Me, Peeps

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I don’t talk about WHAT I do so much as HOW I feel,
here at Pialosophy.
But, I am trying to change that for myself.

So, in this post – I am going to do both.

You see, I am and have been trying for a year to get some decent work for myself.

Yes – I do have part-time work as a Nightfiller at Coles in the next town, but it is REALLY fucking up my sleep and my health. Plus I find it uttlery frustrating to do a mediocre job, when with just a few more seconds at each task I could do a good job.

It kinda drives me nuts!

So for the past 13 months, I have been looking furiously online and in both local papers, to see if I can find a job that would suit me better.

Then last week I found this online . . .

Job Ad

 . . . and I am absolutely shitting myself.

It is due tomorrow and I have been writing and re-writing my application for six full days.

I have approached two professionals in local Job Support positions, to get them to review my application. One was useless (these are the people who are paid to reduce unemployment in my region!!!) and one was beyond awesome. I gushed a lot little when I thanked her.

She took my whole application on Thursday and asked me to come back Friday so she could take some real time to read it and give me feedback. And boy did she go to town on my work (it needed it). She even re-wrote my Resume and saved a copy onto my USB.

What a legend!

So today, I have been trying to implement all the changes and recommendations that she made. The more I type and save, the more I believe that I haven’t got a snowballs chance in hell.

So, please cross your fingers for me, peeps.
I haven’t had a well-paying secure job in ten and a half years and it’s really hurting.
I’m so tired of being poor.

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A Wish List

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You know those times when you lie in bed, totally exhausted but still awake?
And you try to find a way to just switch your mind off?

But instead, you keep constructing lists for tomorrow of all the things you need to do.

Or.

What about on those hot summer nights when you just can’t get comfy?
You legs are sticking together, the sheets are too light but the doona is too warm.
A wet flannel on your ankles can’t even cool you down.

You know what I do, when I need to get to sleep?

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Make a Wish

 Source: Bellafaye Garden Tumblr

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In my mind,
I start to make list of wishes.

It’s a LONG list, filled with my passions and some hope and a dash of decadence.
Hey – it’s a Wish List – I can put anything I want on it!

The point is, as soon as I start constructing this list in my mind . . . . I fall asleep.
Dang it!

Current Wish List

  • my car totally serviced & fully detailed inside & out
  • go on a holiday at an expensive beach resort in Vietnam
  • have a renovated kitchen
  • weigh 20 kilos less
  • have a permaculture vege garden with 7 rotating beds
  • have a real shed with all the woodwork tools I’ve dreamed of
  • be blogging daily – and be making a living from it!

So . . . .
what would your Wish List consist of?

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What Is ‘Beautiful’?

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A gargantuan element of my current mental crisis, is the growing yawn I am seeing in our culture between age and beauty.

I don’t really feel that I can eloquently describe what I am trying to say here. All I can vocalise is that more than ever, the wealthy are the only ones who able to acquire and retain beauty. Fillers, chemical peels, plastic surgery, botox – are creating a kind of beauty elite, that is absolutely unavailable to the majority of the masses. I utterly despair at the number of actors, models, politicians, business people, bloggers, reporters, sports people & doctors who find it a necessity to anti-age rather than age gracefully.

And I know that this gap between wealthy & poor has existed for eons, since wealth/poverty/beauty was begun.

But, when 19 year old models/actors (Gomez) are receiving quarterly botox injections, AND character actors (like De Niro), chefs (Ramsay) and world leaders (Putin – yes, Putin).
I mean – fuck, even Gaddafi had botox, fillers and plastic surgery.
Seriously!
WTF !!!

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And for someone who has NEVER been seen as even remotely pretty, let alone beautiful, who has a personality that is confronting and ‘too opinionated’, who is slightly overweight and of average height, who is poor, and who lives in the same society as all the men & women who feel that they have to retard the onset of ageing – I feel like I am growing even more unattractive, even more invisible.

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I cannot shut down all that I am seeing and reading. All that is around me. I can’t shut off the overwhelming sense of disconnection that I am travelling through.

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I simply cannot ignore what I am feeling.
What I am learning.
What I know.

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Life: Imagined

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I don’t really know how to describe my psyche at the moment. I don’t exactly feel ‘lost’, although I definitely don’t have a direction I’m heading in.

I almost feel ‘insipid’.
Does that make sense?

It occurs to me often, that a life without children is a very ‘undefined’ existence.

Unless you have a stirling career/calling or a passionate relationship with a significant other, I don’t know that there is much that otherwise directs each day, month and year.

Living with severe *Asthma doesn’t help, obviously, but if you really break it down – what am I suppose to be aiming for.

It’s well documented on this little webspace that I don’t particularly want to be alive. I find it exhausting to invent reasons to stay breathing and to get out of bed each day. Honestly – I just don’t want my legacy to my nephews to be suicide. Their Uncle successfully killed himself and their Ouma gave it a crack at least once.

I need to stay alive just to prove that suicide is a short term solution to a long term conundrum. Which, when you are looking for reasons to live – it’s a pretty thankless one.
Pretty depressing actually.
(LOL)

But I don’t know what else I’m suppose to be doing. The important future dates that I am working blindly towards. The unseen successes that I’m suppose to believe in and strive for.

And no one else can enlighten me.

Because no one knows.

I suppose it doesn’t help that I have been unemployed for 9 months,
and the only position I have (finally) managed to secure is NightFill at Coles.
Don’t get me wrong – I’m grateful to have the opportunity to earn some money myself.
I’ve only worked two shifts, but it appears that I am quite effective at it . . . . neat, quick + follow instructions correctly.

I have two strong proponents in my life – two intelligent and caring women – who believe in me, and who constantly remind me that although Creativity is my life, it doesn’t pay the bills. That in the short term I need an income.

And they’re right.

But they both have children, and loving trustworthy partners. They have the inherent life ‘goal posts’ that come with having a family. They have in-built prizes. Pride, joy, contentment, happiness, passion . . . .

And a life without those, is a life where substitutes have to be constructed.
It could be said that they have to be conjured.
Made up.
Imagined.

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PS
Happy Father’s Day
to all the Aussie Dad’s out there!

`Dad's Day Quote.

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Small Moments of Happiness

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One of the things about poor,
is the reality of when you don’t have money.

I know that this sounds like a redundant statement
but there are numerous ways to ‘fight’ being poor
and juggling money becomes a real art form.

For months I have
been wearing a pair of thongs
that are well and truly rooted!

Green monsters

Green monsters

The hole on the right thong,
is so stretched
that every time I wear them
the toe hold comes out, and I go for a trip.
And not the good kind of trip !!!

Then this week,
I scraped together $20
and bought myself a new pair.

Such a luxury
and such a relief.

New beauties

New beauties

I love them!

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