Re·sil·ience – n. 1. The ability to recover quickly from illness, change, or misfortune; buoyancy.
Hmph! Today I get a big F for FAIL. And for FUCKED UP. Cos I did. Both of them.
Although the day started well, things began to look bleak during a conversation at work about the person coming into a new senior job in my agency. Thankfully the person doesn’t start for a couple of months, but I have six months left on my temporary contract which means we will cross over for some time. The new job will include part of mine (long term) and part of someone else’s (plus a bit extra). Already I’m wondering how we can divvy up my work – although I know my boss likes me and wants to keep me around and happy.
Nevertheless, with him away we started discussions about where this person will sit when they arrive etc. That alone was a harsh reminder that things will be changing… which got me to pondering on my own future and the fact that (sometime in the next six months) I will need to find and secure a new job. I do have one elsewhere to go back to – but have no desire to do so (ie. I would rather gnaw my arm off than return there).
Then… things looked up. A long meeting finished early and I was scoffing my leftovers for lunch while surfing the internet when my phone rang. It was my Real Estate Agent who has thankfully calmed down a lot since her almost-daily visits when my place first went onto the market. The contract I signed on my place a week ago goes unconditional from next Friday, settling (ie. requiring me to move) two weeks after that. The building inspection and valuation went well this week, so things have been looking more positive and I’d finally realised that I may well be moving soon – though not counting my chickens for another week yet. But, all was going smoothly so I was starting to get a bit nervous because I have nowhere to move to. I haven’t found my (next) dream house and didn’t really want to rush into something (when I am going to be plonking down about $650k I don’t want to do it on a whim and live to regret it!). So… I’d reconciled myself to the fact that I may have had to rent for a few months. Which brings me back to my lunchtime internet surfing and a sense of relief that there appeared to be a few rental properties of interest which weren’t TOO expensive.
Meanwhile…. back to the phone call. My Agent was calling to see if I’d heard from the solicitor dealing with the contract. “No,” I responded nervously. And then she launched into it. Apparently my solicitor rang her to say that he’d received a letter from the buyer’s solicitor saying they were withdrawing their offer – for financial reasons. Now, my Agent thought it was a done deal, so she’s very suspicious about what might have happened and apparently they can’t get any clarification. Either way I have to go through with my Open House tomorrow – scheduled to be my last. My contract with the current Real Estate company finishes on Sunday and all along I’d intended to pull my place off the market if it didn’t sell in that time.
When I still hoped to get the other job I’d contemplated renting this place out and buying a new place (as well). But… everything went to hell in a handbasket when I didn’t get the job. But then this offer came in and I no longer had to worry. And now… it’s up in the air again. Just when I’d readied myself to move on, it looks like I’ll be staying after all.
I felt quite calm while on the phone with my Agent. “Oh well, whatever….” I said. And then it hit me. That. Everything. I kept thinking of my ‘Being grateful’ post from a couple of days ago, in which I said I was no longer going to feel sorry for myself. And yet…. what did I do? I wanted to cry. I wanted to fall in a big heap.
Instead I decided to leave work early. Enroute to the train station – with minimal consideration – I called in for junk food. I bought chips I don’t even like that much, and three bags of the bloody things. I wanted caramello koalas, but had to settle for caramel buttons instead. On arrival home I changed into comfortable clothes (ie. read elastic waisted pants) and settled down in front of the television. Within an hour the three bags of chips had gone, along with half of the packet of caramel buttons. The chips weren’t very enjoyable. The buttons were, though I was a bit full by the time I was pushing them down.
I’m tempted to also buy wine for tonight and continue on my merry way, BUT am telling myself that I won’t buy more junk food. I will cook some fish and have some potatoes. Perhaps I will have wine, but I will buy a limited amount because – in this frame of mind I could go crazy and I’m too old for hangovers.
So there you have it. A confession or sorts. Once upon a time I would have hidden the binge and written some up-beat post about something inconsequential. This time I tweeted it before it happened. Did I want someone to convince me to not go through with it? Perhaps. But I was pretty much resolved from the moment I walked out of my workplace. It’s been building for a while. I probably DO regret I didn’t waste the calories on things I love more (corn chips, Chinese and the like). But… what’s done is done. I can’t promise I won’t finish the buttons later. Or that I won’t have some wine tonight, or too many potatoes. But… hopefully in my next post I will have gotten this out of my system and be ready to move on.
The lesson for me is that I still need to work on my coping mechanisms. I’m frankly just a bit OVER everything at the moment. I want something good to happen. BUT having said all of that, I need to remind myself that – even with the: not getting job, house crap, father being sick, being single and alone – I still have it better than others. And… interestingly, as well as a confession I feel like I am writing this post requesting some kind of absolution. From you. That also shows I have a long way to go because just days ago I ALSO wrote a post about commitment and in that I said I was losing weight and getting healthy for ME. No one else. So it seems it’s myself I need to forgive.