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Published: March 28th 2008
Let me initiate this short entry by quoting myself from a conversation held with Jett a few days ago. Here’s what I said:
“…but hey, what is life if not an endless string of challenges?”
What on Earth would bring me to say something like that, you all wonder, and I’ll deliver the answer straight away: the family changed their mind about having a nanny.
Now, this was not quite as bad as it sounded, for numerous reasons:
For one, I have been talking about moving into my own place for the past week anyway, since I currently have restrictions that a person like myself would have a hard time dealing with long term. I had to ask permission to have someone over, and it was only allowed to have guests if either Shane or Marnie were at home. I’m sure you all agree that this type of setup is less than ideal for my type of social gal.
There were suggestions that these restrictions would be lifted once the parents knew me better and felt they could trust me, but God knows how long that would take. I didn’t feel like waiting around for them to allow me what
Silly Willy
What are those kids being crushed by, and why do they enjoy being squashed so much?I believe I should have been granted from day one, so I soon started planning my jailbreak.
Another reason that a move most likely would lead to better things for me was that the family lived in Maroubra, which is a fair bit away from most anything you’d want to be near to. It’s about as far south as one ever would want to go down the coast, which means that Manly Beach - where the best beach volleyball is - takes me about 2 hours to get to. The city is about 45 minutes to 1 hour away, so doing anything other than hanging out back at the house was both time-consuming and tedious. And when I can’t even feel relaxed about having people over, this situation seriously impairs my social life. What’s the point with a mega-screen TV if I can’t watch movies with my friends on it?
Still, it came as a bit of a blow to not be able to control when and how this move would happen, but instead get kicked out in less than a week. “Do you think you could be out earlier than Sunday?” asked Shane on Tuesday two minutes after having told me I’d be moving out, and I said I’d most likely could, but that I might need a little more time to be able to tell him how much earlier. I’m not too keen on staying somewhere if I’m not wanted there anyway.
They both kept telling me that they think everything worked well, that I’m great with the kids, and that their decision has nothing to do with my work. That’s good to hear, I guess, but I can’t help feeling they could’ve thought this through a bit better before they had me move in. Now they’re telling me that Shane never wanted a nanny to begin with, so considering that, this decision really can’t come as much of a surprise to them. The only one who was blissfully unaware of her unwanted presence was I, the actual nanny. Great.
But now to the good news of that same day (for there were such as well):
I got a job. How I acquired this position is a bit bizarre, but then again, absurdity is what I’ve come to expect from Life and her ludicrous ways.
I had called about a full time position at a book distribution center near Maroubra two weeks back, and the lady who dealt with the applicants kept saying she’d call me back. She failed to do so every time, however, so I had to call her up whenever she didn’t ring on agreed day and time. She never sounded bothered by this, and when she again didn’t call me back after Easter as promised, I gave her a final bell to see if there was still a position offered. Because I had been so diligent about calling her whenever she didn’t, she decided to hire me on the spot. “You don’t even want to meet me first?” I asked, and she answered that she felt like she knew enough about me to trust me. “Just show up here Tuesday morning”, she said, and just like that, I had a job. Exactly what kind of job remains a mystery until next Wednesday. Stay tuned.
So to summarize Tuesday March 25th; I got a job and was notified that I again am homeless in Sydney, all within 12 dramatic hours.
I know Life was giggling at this, thinking she served me precisely what I asked for, and I guess she’s right. But I intend to spoil her fun by making something better out of the crap situation she's handed me. That always pisses her off to no end.
I sat down and started browsing the web for a room to rent in Sydney, and got a reply from a guy who invited me to come see his place the next day at 5pm. Usually these are my working hours, but I asked Marnie if it was ok that I went to look at a potential new home instead of working that night, and she said it was, so all was well.
Or so I thought.
While in the city I got some more replies to my inquiries, and thus had more places to look at. I viewed 3 rooms; one was absolutely revolting and actually emitted a faint odor of someone’s poorly washed anus, the second was a fuliginous closet, barely big enough to fit a bed, and the third one was perfect, but too pricey. At 8 PM, three hours after the first viewing, I took the bus back to Maroubra feeling a bit disappointed that that the night had yielded no hope of a new home, and tired after a day of running around looking for addresses.
As I got back to the house 9.30pm (yes, the buses are that great a weekday night) Marnie had a look of absolute fury when she asked me where I had been ‘all night’.
“Who took a dump in your sorbet?” I thought, but answered her question saying that I had been in the city, just as I had informed her the night before that I would. Marnie said she thought I would be back to dinner. (The family eats dinner at 6 PM, which tells me exactly how little she understands about the situation with public transport from their little suburb to the city; there’s simply no way I could make it back from Newtown, Sydney to Maroubra in an hour.)
She explained that had cooked food for me, and she now felt very indignant about the obvious lack of respect that I displayed by not attending dinner time. “I feel you’re taking advantage of my kindness” she said, and I had to hold back a sardonic smile when realizing that she and Shane actually somehow thought they were doing me a favor.
“I’m really upset that you are so incredibly disrespectful that you couldn’t even send me a text to let me know that you wouldn’t be returning to dinner, and I want you to move out tomorrow morning.” I told her that I would be out of there faster than that, but that I had had on intention of hurting her feelings or showing disrespect. “I thought it was clear that I wouldn’t be back to dinner. And if you were wondering whether or not to cook for me, why couldn’t you just give me a call? We both have phones.” Marnie explained that that’s not her thing to do, and I quietly agreed and thought that she was more the type to throw someone out with less than 10 hours notice. That’s clearly her thing.
These people are absolutely nuts, I muttered to myself as I went up the stairs to pack up my things.
Since I have a fairly strong bullshit detector, it was pretty obvious to me that they just wanted me out earlier than Sunday for some reason (maybe the parents coming home after all) and now had to feign some major transgression over something as ridiculous as me missing dinner in order to justify kicking me out prematurely. I had arranged for a place to stay on Friday morning anyway, so it was really just the urgency of the current situation that presented a problem. How would I get out of Maroubra now, at 10 pm a Wednesday night? I had far too much stuff to carry by myself, and a cab drive would cost at least $150. And where would I go at this hour?
Will was on MSN Messenger when I got up to my room, and I told him what had happened. Since he’s pretty much the kindest, sweetest person ever, he actually said yes when I sheepishly asked if he’d be willing to come pick me up that same night. I’m pretty bad at asking people for help, especially if it entails something uncomfortable for that person, which driving to Maroubra that late at night inevitably must be, but I felt my pride had no room in that very moment.
To me, “Pack your things!” were the prettiest words I had ever received over instant messaging, and I felt a rush of gratitude that I had ended up at the Pillow Fight Day where I met Will. What would I do now if he hadn’t been around? This sentiment was quickly followed by a pang of bitterness that the little devil is leaving the country for a year in less than a week, but I tried to remember to be thankful for what I get and not offended by all the things I can’t have, since there’s just too many of them. Like a koala, why can’t I have a koala? I’m trying to not think about the injustice in that. I should be allowed a koala.
Will arrived a short while later, and we started loading the car with my stuff. I went back inside the house to notify the Simpletons that I was leaving, and Marnie gave me an envelope with my travesty of a salary: $100. She had said she’d pay me for this week as well, but I had told her I didn’t want any money for anything other than the first week, considering how she felt about things. $100 was mine, however, so I accepted the envelope, returned their keys and walked out of the house. I got in the car and heaved a sigh of relief as Will started the engine. I felt better for each mile we put between me and the under cover insane asylum that I had lived in for a week and a half, and when we reached his house it almost felt like it never happened.
Will and I sat up talking a bit, but I was tired from the long day, and eventually sleep came to claim its empire.
Will is coming through as a friend in about a thousand ways, and it’s hard not to resent him a little bit for leaving so soon. Not only did he help me out Wednesday night when I had no other way to get out of my quagmire, but he also offered to host me for a few nights, and then he arranged for me to stay at his friend Dave’s place for three weeks (for a measly $100 a week) while Dave is in the UK. This buys me precious time to look for a place without feeling the pressure of having to accept whatever abominable rat-hole I’m offered, and the location of Dave’s apartment just happens to be near Newtown, which is my favorite part of the city. Major Yay.
If I could afford anything but fanatical frugality right now, I would lavish my sweet-toothed friend Will with thick-shakes and decadent cakes to show my appreciation, but instead I settled for a promise that I one day would treat him to a swank restaurant we walked by the other day. The son of a gun even required a handshake on that deal, so now I’m committed. Fair enough, I guess.
Hey Will, thanks for being such a great friend. You know what else great friends do? They stick around. Goddammit.
Alright, off you go. Have fun, be safe and all that.
There’s a definite draught in the money department for me, one I saw coming but couldn’t steer clear of. Coincidentally, I’m offered modeling gigs by local photographers, and even though I swore to not do any of that over here, it’s hard to resist the easy money. Also, it’s a bit eerie how these offers always seem to come when my life is marked by insufficient funds, and since beggars can’t be choosers, I have scheduled in two of them for April, generating $150-$300 a piece (tax-free). In a few hours I will have made what most Holiday-makers earn in a week, and when you look at it that way, principals easily fall out of focus.
Luckily, my destitute situation doesn’t govern my mood. I figure money is something we can all come by if we really want to put in the work, whereas happiness and a stabile state of mind is harder to acquire. As most people hope for money in order to buy themselves happiness, I figure leading a joyous life despite an adverse lack of monetary possessions is a great accomplishment. That’s not to say I’d be happy to stay in this financially doleful situation for the rest of my existence, but there’s no need to fret about it just yet.
Life has been a capricious little bitch lately, but I still love her. Her ridiculous antics are quite charming, when you think about it, and they sure give my days an interesting twist. No day is ever boring with challenges like homelessness and poverty at hand, now are they?
One of the dearest people in my life said that above most anyone he knows, he trusts in my ability to re-direct adversity into something in my favor. I’m dead set on never disappointing anyone who has that kind of faith in me.
Happy birthday, D.
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sandra
non-member comment
Confession
- I admire you. And I really envy you for your attitude towards that little bitchy bugger called life ;) I am sure you'll find your way round this new situation - I don't know you apart from your little and much appreciated stories - but it seems clear to me that you'll always will. No matter what obscenity life throws at you :) However, I still have one more thing to admit: you inspired me to do sth I always wanted and never had the guts trying. I applied for a job in Sydney and hope I'll get a sponsorship. And even if this doesn't turn out the way I hope, I will definitely apply for a skilled migration thingy. Sorry for this outburst of admiration *g* - yet, it had to be said. Just one thing I don't understand - you landed yourself a job in Maroubra even though it's too far from everything? Or did I miss sth? Cheers!