It's Not Easy

I'd like to write a blog about something other than a certain milk-product orientated food processing environment but I find my life becoming increasing drawn to thinking of little else.

This is bad.

Not because I'm obsessed with work but because I do it six days a week, I have to rise at 5.00am, rarely finish before 3.00pm and find that the consequent fatigue plagues the few small hours I have at home.

It has also put paid to the growing pleasure I was having from writing stuff. I'm sure I'm not alone in wanting to sit at home all day in order that I can pursue an artistic endeavour but the ubiquity of such dreams make them none the less desirable.

Still, I did get paid yesterday and that was nice. I was unable to make head nor tail of the wages slip so after a year have decided to bow to the inevitable, face the fact that I'll be there for another week and ask someone to decipher it. Every other time I've worked there I've furrowed my brow and made myself angry at the thought of them ripping me off but always reached the same assumption that it didn't matter as I wouldn't be there for another week.

And here I am.

Funnily enough teaching is beginning to regain some of it's appeal after a fallow period (coinciding with flying back the UK for an interview, failing it and spending the next few weeks pursuing aforementioned artistic idyll).

But, more important than all of this is that my mood is still positive. Normally after seven days at work I'd be very, very depressed, angry, billious, annoyingly self-pitying and a whole other range of unappealing features would also be on display. But I'm not displaying them.

Does this mean that they are soon to manifest themselves with great vengeance or that I've reached a level of maturity that precludes me from such infantile knee jerk reactions.

We'll see (but I know where my money lies).