La la la land


I feel as if I’m in la-la land. Again.

And I’m going to be immediately rather pedantic, it seems! This is going to be one of my stream-of-consciousness posts.

My mother always hated the expression ‘I feel like’. As in, ‘I feel like ice cream!’ So…how does ice cream feel, exactly? Cold, wet, creamy? No – you feel “as if, or as though” you want ice cream.

She had a damn good point, and I’ve never forgotten it. I rarely, if ever, say ‘I feel like’. Even when it does work, as in: I feel like I’m in la-la land.

My mother’s teachings might explain why I can be rather spare in using contractions, even as a native English speaker/writer. I’m always trying to make sure that I’ve been clearly understood. I’ve been told by someone who refuses to use the slightest bit of text-speak that I don’t use enough contractions. Hmm.

That said, I live in a country where “amn’t” makes perfect sense. Shudder. But I use it because it works.

Yes, I’ve had a bit too much to drink a bit too early, or a bit less food today than I usually do. Or both! No matter, I have the cats keeping me company and a lot of nonsense on my mind. iDJ is in charge of food tonight, so- wheee!

I guess the biggest thing on my mind is the work situation. I hate what I’m doing, and everyone in charge knows it. I wasn’t hired for this role, so – thankfully – they are trying to hire someone who wants to do it. So far, one person accepted and then bowed out the day he was meant to start. That should tell you how awful my job is – in a massively depressed economy with a high unemployment rate, someone could say ‘no thanks’ to doing my job.

But…I was told that they were interviewing again this week, and I got my hopes up again. Fuck it, lie to me, it keeps me sane with hope! They’ve said where they want to put me, and I’m totally down with the new role – just get me outta this one. It has sucked all the joy out of life for me. I can’t even see that my job isn’t my life. I spend my ‘real life’ trying to recover from work, which means I’ve made work my whole life. Pretty stupid for an office job.

And…to beat a stupid, dead analogy even further to death – the spiderweb that made me think (hard, for a change) has just been erased. Poof! gone. I didn’t get to do it myself. They hired a painter, he power-washed the building and then just…painted over where the web used to be. Well, dammit all to hell and back.

I’m pretty sure there’s another analogy there about how we aren’t ever in control of any goddamn thing in life. I’m not good at ‘deep’ so – bummer, dude. I feel denied. Sheeeiiiiiit (in my best Clay Davis from The Wire voice).

In any case. I’m sorry as hell that I’ve not been up to reading anyone else’s posts, or even giving proper responses to comments on my own blog. La-la-land, you see.

La la la, la-di-da…

20 responses »

  1. Yep the spider will return…they love a good safe spot…we have a garden orb and she makes her amazing web at night and it’s all packed up by dawn,i must post some pics,she had a boyfriend build his right behind hers…he has not been seen since..hmmm ๐Ÿ™‚ enjoy your weekend ๐Ÿ™‚

  2. I’ve had jobs like that – just sucks the energy right out. UGH
    A bit of an energy lag here, should be writing, or ironing, or doing something….oh, well, visiting friends counts, right? (You’ll write a note for me if I need it, right? giggles)
    Hope the weekend brings you some fun…and the spider

  3. My revolt against the machine — culminating in my becoming a Sole Proprietor Business in the grand language of USian bureaucratese — issued from this horrific social acceptance of the idea that you should expect your job to suck the life out of you and that your free time was at beast going to be recuperative. I would rant that an employer was entitled to ask for your labor but not your soul. Most of all — this is what I encountered, time and again — your employer was not allowed to demand that you accept humiliation and abuse from whomever was designated as your superior.

    Most of my early “jobs” amounted to being paid to be bored. Bored shitless. Bored as you can only be bored when you are doing something you cannot help noticing is meaningless and pointless.

    I sometimes think that in these post-survival times — an era when we have gotten beyond the need for every human effort to immediately yield food or a sound dwelling — employment has been redefined as “a way for sadistic bullies or distracted hobbyists to recruit victims for their diversions.”

    I pay a lot of taxes as a one-horse business but I kiss every check after I write it.

      • And yet he’s got his own broadcast thingie…? He’s half way there!!

        See, I think you do have something that you can do like this, only you’ve not quite twigged to it yet. There is something that you can’t stop imagining yourself doing and suitably tweaked, it’s something that people will pay you to do. When I was four or five, I read all day long, I had a passion for those working-class songs about strong men with hammers (or fists like hammers) and then I kept poking into my parents’ home medical encyclopedias and yes, child care manuals to see what I could find out about bodies and fixing things, because I had this bedtime fantasy that when people felt bad, I would fix it in some way that involved putting my hands on them.

        So I divert myself chucking around big piles of iron, and I wrote a couple silly novels, and then I found a profession that involves putting your hands on people who feel bad and making things better. You have something like that in your earliest self. Dig back.

        • Wow! Who could guess something so entertaining could also be a real scientific and genetic question. But… I can see someone bitching like hell in a few years that we ‘omg spent tax MY tax dolarrz on THIS?!? And you and I will be saying, finally -now I know!

  4. Is la-la-land like no-mans-land? … I’m not sure. You’re obviously in the middle of somewhere but you’d rather be somewhere else, as in the new job. Nothing worse than being in a job you hate. I’ve been there. Many years ago I quit the police force to stack cheese in a supermarket. It was SUCH a relief. Sure hope your old job gets taken and you can move on. ๐Ÿ™‚

  5. OK but what does anm’t mean? and I love that feeling of just a little too much to drink and not enough to eat with something to say! go for it honey! c

    • Oh dear. I was a bit more in my cups than I thought! It was meant to be amn’t – the wonderful Irish contraction for am not! I hated it when I first moved here, but I guess I use it now! Thank you for stopping in, Ms C!

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