Re-introduction

It's been a while since I did this. Six months or so. I tell myself that I just don't have time for it any more but it's a lie. I do have time, except I spend that time with my brain turned off. My job, while seemingly menial and not mentally taxing, is sucking the will to live right out of me. I'm tired all the time. I don't turn off when I get home, I worry if the roster is okay, if I've ordered enough coffee, bacon, flour or icecream. I wonder if the fridge is still running, if I've left enough instructions, if they'll remember the cake cooking in the oven or if they'll burn it like they usually do. I want to leave my work at work because it's just not important enough to fret about at home. And it's something I'm trying not to whine about too much.

I don't know when I became a complainer. I think I'd probably explode if I didn't get to whine about how crap my roster is every week though. But not here. It bores me, it'll bore you too.

So what else have I been doing other than working 50 hours a week? Developing a deep fondness for a certain part of the west australian countryside for one thing. On a whim a few months ago, my sister and I drove out to the wheatbelt, north-east of Perth and had a wonderful time exploring the poky old towns out there. I went back a month or so later on my own. It was easily one of the most fun things I've done in a long time. I love the space out there. It's just so big and flat and beautiful. People seem to think it's boring or ugly and plain. I think it's so beautiful that I ached a little bit, wanting to stay there forever. Here's a photo anyway, I was on the road between Koorda and Bencubbin. What do you think?



It's quiet out there, too! When I stopped at the side of the road and turned off the engine of the car, all you can hear is the wind blowing through the wheat. I think people prone to lonliness and not at ease with being with themselves might think it was eerie but I just sat there and smiled. And dreamt about marrying a farmer and living out there in the nothingness.

I think I'd like to live around Koorda. It has a beautiful pub and a drive-in and not much else. I don't know what I'd do out there except pop out some kids and make jam and bake bread and join the CWA and drive back to Perth every now and again to buy books and records and visit the family. Sounds perfect. All I need is that farmer husband. Oh look, here's the Koorda Hotel.



So that's about it at the moment. I work too much and dream about running away to the country where there is space and silence and time.