Jun 262013

There is a whole lot of empty in me right now. I’ve been suffering, struggling, hurting, feeling nothing, feeling everything, watching the days tick by. Tick, tick, tick.

I haven’t been around here but I should be. Putting the sadness down in this faceless space gets it out of my head. Otherwise it hangs on, sinking its tentacles deeper and deeper into my consciousness, deeper into my soul, making it so the good stuff can’t find its way in. When I’m here I cry as I type, I feel a hopelessness that is all encompassing, it makes my head throb and my ears feel blocked, but I get it out. And when it is out I don’t dwell on it any more – or at least not as much. By emptying it out I don’t feel quite so empty.

There is still no baby. Still no house. And the career I have decided to change is not taking hold, for every door that opens two slam shut, I am failing at everything. Except sitting on the kitchen floor and crying, I’m pretty good at that.

I’m tying to be hopeful but it is so hard. Another year has passed, another birthday, another month and day and hour that I won’t get back. Time lost to making a change, making things change. Mr W asks if I’ve made the doctor appointment to start the fertility drugs again and the answer is always “no, not yet, I’ll do it this week…” but I don’t. I wait just one more month, maybe it will happen on its own this month, maybe. I wait for him to make the appointment because if he did I’d go, I just can’t do it myself, but I don’t say that to him and he isn’t reading my mind (damn him).

I sit and watch success happen to everyone else and instead of spurring me on it drives me further into the empty. Almost paralyzed with disappointment, I don’t act. It is too hard to act. To admit failure of my body. Failure of my talent. Failure of acting when I should have, when there was more time.


Here’s to starting.

May 252013

I’m going away on a little trip this weekend and I’m not sure that I want to go to.

It is a weekend away with people who I can really only call acquaintances. A few are almost friends, but not quite. A few I think I’d like to get to know better, I think. A few I’m not a huge fan of because I find them… odd (?), perhaps a bit uncomfortable to talk to (not because they are challenging in their thinking but the opposite).

So why am I going? Why did I say yes to a weekend I can’t really afford right now with people who I really don’t know that well?

Sigh. Because it was nice to be invited (shit that sounds so pathetic), in these days of social media blah blah it is very easy to see what is happening with the people you know who have not invited you along. Because I need to get out from behind my damn computer and my comfortable lounge. Because it would be good to spend more than a hectic dinner or media event with some of them and I want to have a relaxed conversation instead of a rushed one. Because maybe one or two will become a friend one day? Because if I said no would I be even more on the outer?

There is another event a week later that I am looking forward to a bit more. A party, but a small one. People who I think I connect with more. I think…

Who knows.

All I know for sure is I miss my close circle of friends. The ones I had in my 20s. The ones who knew me, really knew me. What happened to them all? Well we all moved away, found our own lives and partners and cities… is it my fault we drifted apart? Sometimes I think I should email, try harder to make plans when we go on holidays, but why does it have to be my responsibility all the time? Maybe because I’m concerned with having them in my life more than they are with me? So instead I pull away, because it is easier… sort of.

I sway between wanting to go hide in the woods so I don’t ever have to see other people and wanting to have the close circle of friends back – old, new, whatever. In the meantime I’m in acquaintance limbo.

Oct 022012

Mr W just said to me “I’ll take care of you forever

Yeah, I’ll take that.

Sep 162012

I went to a blogging conference recently and sat with a woman who complained all day that a certain group of bloggers (of which she is part) had no community.

In her next breath, and without a single hint of irony, she said anyone who does sponsored posts or tries to make a business out of their blog is a sellout.

My subject-changing terse grin may have said “um, ok” but my brain was most definitely screaming “shut up you stupid cow“. Just saying.


The nurse’s voice became more and more urgent “stand up, get on the table, stand up, get on the table“.

But I was seeing spots and there was no way I was going anywhere that required upward movement – I’d been there before and knew it meant I was going to faint. “Don’t stand up, don’t stand up” pulsed through my head. “Try to lay down, keep breathing” my brain said.

Have you ever tried to lay down while sitting in a plastic Dr’s office chair – it is about as impossible as you are imagining, but I was trying my damnedest to move in a direction opposite to standing, and fast.

When the first immunization shot went in I had flinched but kept breathing – “not so bad” I thought, “don’t be a baby, only two more to go“.

When the second shot went in it made me suck breath through my teeth and expel an unexpected “oh shit that hurts” loudly enough to surprise the nurse and myself – but the damn woman had obviously herd it all before and kept on pushing that plunger in.

In crystal clear slow motion I started to collapse towards the floor, feet and bum first, fully conscious but unable to say another word. The nurse was on a broken record repeat as I sunk further and further down the plastic slide of a chair, when all of a sudden two strong arms moved under my back and my knees.

Mr W had sprung into action, swooping my fainting body off the chair and onto that pesky table like a modern-day superhero.

The resultant swoon took away any breath I had left. It was almost worth the pain in my arm.

My hero.

Jun 302012

I’m struggling. All I want to do is work on my blog (not this one, sorry) and I can’t. Yeah I still churn out a post or two each week – and I have without a doubt a list of pending posts and things I want to cook and germs of recipes swirling in my head – but I can’t seem to do it.

I wander in and out of the kitchen, I stare at the screen and keyboard, I watch twitter, I try to edit photos, I snack endlessly, I write here instead.

I can’t get my head around it and I don’t know where to begin. The Dev, bless him, is patient but not remotely helpful right now.

I have had one day in the past week to sit down and get stuck into it – a whole day, nothing else to do or anyone to answer to and what do I have to show for it? One folder of sorted, as yet unedited photos and this post.

Argggggggggggggggggggggggghhhhhh and fark.

So I’m off to bake bread for the week and then off to yoga in the hopes of sweating out some of the sadness. As per usual inspiration will probably strike around 10.30pm.


There are two kinds of people in this world. Ones who make lists and ones who don’t. I’m not judging either way it just is how it is.

I am a list maker – I have to write things down or they fly out of my head, peeking back in a the most inopportune times and haunting me endlessly.

I also love ticking things off of said lists – it is terribly satisfying.

Needless to say the lists for our upcoming trip have started, sort of… there are currently three items staring me from a piece of paper on my desk…


Yeah, that is how my brain works – third thing I thought of… socks.





You could call it going on vacation, you could call it discovering (you could also call it running away – lets not) but we call it going on an adventure.

Mr. W has renewed his passport – for the second time since we’ve been together – so we of course need to fill it up again. The flights on either end of a multi-monthed trip are booked! We know when we need to be on an airplane and that’s a damn good start.

The only other thing booked is a trek to Macchu Picchu – squeeeeeeee! I have always wanted to go and although it is not the primary purpose of this trip it is a great excuse for a detour into South America.

There is stacks of planning ahead, a few decisions to be made around job and home futures and endless lists to be made but for right now, we’re going on an adventure!

- Side note, I have to add a new category for this post, it is far too positive for any of the current ones – ha!





I work with a woman – lets call her Shelly – who has some major insecurity issues. They play across her features with alarming regularity and it is almost painful to watch. They manifest more outwardly by her snapping at juniors, acting terribly weak around seniors and being an uncomfortable person to be around a lot of the time.

She for some reason has decided to use me as a confidant about her life. No skin off my back, I see what happens in the office and understand where she is coming from with many things. We do have some interests in common so I listen to her whinging, try to give supportive advice with an undercurrent of suck it up and celebrate her successes.

But the other day she said something that made me really uncomfortable – almost angry. She started talking about an old friend that she has always been really jealous of. This friend has the job Shelly thinks she wants, has a partner, lives in a great city – things that on paper tick all the boxes. Then this girl and Shelly got together for a drink and the next day Shelly said to me ‘I’ve exercised my daemons, I’m no longer jealous of my friend – her job isn’t as as good as I always thought it was and the city she lives in is dreary and her apartment is tiny‘. And then she smiled and rejoiced a bit. And I wanted to smack her.

It was more than that ‘maybe life isn’t greener‘ realisation we all have at some point. It was more than being glad she has her life and not her friend’s. It was a celebration in her friend’s challenges and difficulties and misfortunes. And it made her smaller as a person, not stronger. And she will never realise that fact.

Celebrate who you are – not what others are not.


It’s been a while. I’ve been running very fast and not really getting anywhere. It has been a month of decadence and a bit of laughter and a bit too much sadness. A month of far too much work at things I don’t enjoy, and far too little work on things I do.

This evening I landed on the vanilla bean blog, lured by a promise of cardamom sugar buns. While the promised buns were there, I was drawn in by her introspective words and a quote by Joseph Campbell ‘Participate joyfully in the sorrows of world. We cannot cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live in joy’. I took pause, I was uncomfortable with the thought – take joy in sorrow?

Then I read it again and placed more emphasis in my mind on the second sentence ‘We cannot cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live in joy’

While the problems of the world are so much bigger than mine, I am still going to take this to heart to maybe help myself a bit. I cannot cure my sorrows so I may as well choose to live in joy. (wash, rinse, repeat, you can do this)

Joy of freedom to be just us two. Joy of late sleep-ins and 2pm breakfasts and time to read the paper with no distractions. Joy of being able to plan a long trip involving multiple countries and excursions and adventures, because we can.

I shall try more to live in joy for what there is rather than sorrow for what there isn’t.


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