Sunday evening. It's been a fairly quiet weekend here, with showers of greater or lesser degree.
Perhaps surprisingly, the weekend is almost as important when you're unemployed as when you're working. It's when you don't feel guilty. During the week, you have a constant sense of shame that you're not at work and instead you're just killing time. I do what I can to keep myself busy, with looking for work and doing farm stuff and writing and running my SES unit. At some level, though, it feels like you're kidding yourself and simply playing at being an adult. Not fun. On Saturday I swallowed my pride and began the process of applying for the dole. Even though I miss my girls constantly, and even kind of miss (the life I had with?) the ex, I'm genuinely glad none of them are here to see my life now.
With that in mind, I was genuinely grateful to have my pager go off a couple of times this weekend. The ground hereabouts is absolutely saturated and trees are starting to fall over under their own weight. When they fall on roads, it constitutes a threat to safety and that's why SES is called out. The first job was on Friday evening, on the Midland Highway. The speed limit on the highway is 100 km/h, so a fallen tree is a genuine hazard that needed an emergency response.
The second job was less than twelve hours later, just about 0800. It was probably borderline whether it needed an emergency response - it was a moderate sized tree but on a back road - but the job had come through and I was happy to go. One of our other members also came across, as did a VicRoads worker, and with a bit of cutting and lifting we cleared the road.
My pager went off again about 0615 this morning for a third tree down / traffic hazard. I'd just finished getting on my boots and overalls and was about to leave when a further message came through from Victoria Police advising that the road had been cleared. Well and good: I went back to bed! This had its upside because it meant I was free to skype with Grace and Rachel later that morning.
Poor Gracie has a touch of tonsilitis, although it didn't seem to have slowed down her voice. I swear she could talk underwater! Well, it slowed her a little bit, so Rachel and I got to have a little daddy-daughter time. She was sleepy and asked me to sing her a lullaby. I sang the song I loved to sing her when she was a little baby, The Black Velvet Band. She didn't go to sleep, but it was a good peaceful moment for us nevertheless.
Not much more to note. This week I've got a couple of actual jobs to apply for, as well as two things where I'll be the public face of the Tatura unit. I'll try and squeeze in a blood donation too. If I run out of other ideas, I'll start sounding out Red Cross about setting up a branch in Shepparton (oddly enough, there isn't one). If I'm going to be a welfare parasite, society might as well get value for money.
No more to add just now. Hope your weekends are going well!
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