Tuesday 17 April 2007

Easter Break(down)

17th April

I haven’t written for a while. I staunched the creative flow with the intention that I would acquire some techie know-how before continuing on with this blog. I’m forced to acknowledge that this may never happen, so I may as well continue the writing.

So, what’s happened since I last wrote? Easter. We didn’t go away. We stayed around Sydney, which is fine by me as my idea of bliss is to be pottering around in the kitchen, with a glass of wine to hand, while the man and the cat snooze gently on the sofa, watching a video (we have a kitchen/living room set up, so you can watch TV whilst being in the kitchen area). Simple pleasures. We went ice skating on Easter Monday. There were some kiddies practicing their figure skating, which impressed me no end. I myself managed a spin, though it was inadvertent – I only noticed I was doing it after a couple of seconds, and I must say I was rather perplexed about how I got into the situation, and, more importantly, how to get out of it. Anyway, I’m proud to say I didn’t fall once!

I’m reading the autobiography/biography of ballerina Gelsey Kirkland (I’ve given up on the philosophy now – taking a break from being bored in the worthiest of ways). I’ve only just started it but I’m already absorbed. I’m not sure yet whether I like the tone; was she sensitive, special child or a stroppy brat? Well, it doesn’t really matter what I think – as I’m discovering increasingly, to the point where I can hardly be bothered to even have an opinion any more – though I must say, I’m beginning to think that Balanchine was a monster. Good job he’s dead.

I foresee that reading Gelsey Kirkland’s book is going to be the highlight of my day for the next couple of weeks. I feel more and more detached from my job as I go on. I’ve been here for about two and a half months now. While I certainly don’t dislike working here, I just feel like……..well, I just don’t care. My role is so pathetically limited in nature, sometimes I can hardly be bothered to work up the energy to do it at all. I know I can catch up on work I haven’t done, any time I feel like it. I often wonder why I’m even here. It’s kind of amusing, really. I mean, here I am writing my blog, surfing the Net for good books on Amazon. You’d think the company would want to get their money’s worth from me, wouldn’t you?

I also find the general atmosphere really uninspiring. I work with a lot of guys, who are in love with gizmos and talk in ridiculous business jargon, and screechy, vulgar Australian women who are doing their best to be just like the men, and a handful of really thick secretary-types (doing the equivalent of my job, for different teams – it’s a source of astonishment to me that I’ve ended up sharing a job description with people like that). I really don’t give a damn about any of them. I hear them talking animatedly in the lifts about clients and customers and deals, and I think, if only had such boring things to talk about, I wouldn’t bother at all, you know? I’m not angry about it. I just find it curious. Then I step outside into North Sydney every lunchtime, to discover it’s become even duller than the day before, and the people are even more depressing, and I know that even though I’m currently occupying the same time and space as they are, I am not the same as them. I suppose I shouldn't let them annoy me so much. It's not their fault they're all dull-as-ditchwater clerical workers. I try to distance myself spiritually as much as possible from this phase of my life. I wonder how long it will take people to realize that I am only here in body and that my mind was somewhere else all along.