Sunday, 27 November 2016

A bollock-kicking contest?

I remember that during my first bout of unemployment a few years ago, I commented bitterly on twitter that sometimes reality exhibits a remarkable lack of mercy.  Camus talked about the benign indifference of the universe, but I think the way I put it was a little closer to the mark:
Today, at any rate, I felt at the start like I was kicking goals for a change.  I have no less than three job interviews this week - two tomorrow (for a job as a labourer at a drycleaner and at a newspaper) and one the next day (a government job).  Getting news of those interviews on Friday was a tonic: I actually felt like life was going somewhere again

I had another reason to smile this morning.  As I said yesterday, my SES Unit had a team in the hospital fun run today.  It was a stunning morning - perfect for running - and it was great to be lining up at the start line with some of my best friends.  I even posted a good time: 10 kilometres in 53m15s.

Can I also brag that for once my arms seem to look good in a singlet?  I don't think I've had that much definition in my upper arms since I was in high school!

A photo posted by Stephen Tuck (@sdtuc2) on

Things began to go downhill this evening, though, as I was getting to grips with various work and financial things.  Let's just say that I've been looking at this sort of thing with a kind of horrified despair as I look at my obligations and my utterly f***ed chances of ever having sustained employment again.

This is perversely OK in its way: I don't much care what happens to me.  I don't really value my life (that is, I don't wish to die but also don't really care if it happens).  I certainly don't plan on living beyond about age 65.  With this in mind the idea of being homeless, bankrupt or in the gutter isn't really all that scary.  So far so good.  But, for reasons I can't explain I mentioned some of my concerns to mum.  I hate myself for that.  She's old and it's my job to look after her and dad rather than add to their burdens for Christ's sake.  It's bad enough that I was a crummy husband and a neglectful father, but why do I have to be a bad son as well?  What a great trifecta to have.

Look, in case you're wondering: no, I'm not about to do something stupid.  I have no right to abandon my post like that.  I'm also not soliciting sympathy.  But right now I'm disgusted in myself even by my own standards.  I expected greater strength from myself.

No more for now.  Sleep and see what tomorrow will bring.

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