Not knowing what the damned future holds.
FOMO (fear of missing out – I have to brag about my semester of psychology someplace, dudes) is a very real phenomenon and it kills me. In a figurative sense.
I cannot ever make a decision, and then when I do 98% of the time I’ll change my mind before I actually go through with whatever it is; from buying those shorts or enrolling in an interstate university. Otherwise I’ll have serious remorse and wish I’d just stayed on my comfy fence and never dabbled with the dangerous mistress that is being decisive.
As it turns out, the shorts never came but I have to return the jeans and top that were to come with them because they’re just not quite right. Which is kind of the story of my life.
The interstate university is yet to be determined but I have been offered a place in a distance nursing bachelors degree which means travelling 8 hours by car two-three days a semester.
I’ve booked a flight home for leaf and I but I do wish home was Melbournes inner suburbs and uni was the double degree I dream of.
Till then, my gears continue to be ground by things not going my way. If the universe could figure that out and get back to me with a solution, that’d be peachy.
You know when you battle over a decision then think, ‘yeah…’
But after a while you think, ‘hmmm…’
And then you AGONISE over changing your original decision because the new one seemed A THOUSAND times better when it first came into your head (aka your mum pointed out the pitfalls of nightshift with a toddler).
And you think, ‘actually it doesn’t even matter because the new idea could never work…’
But in the back of your mind, ‘…or could it?’ Without too much hope.
You’re furiously researching, pretending you’re not desperate to identify a way to make this new thing happen.
And then! ‘Ohmygoditwillworkohmygodohmygodimdoingitthisisititsgoingtowork!’
*Cue several checks with various influential parties for confirmation of the ideas brilliance, where they really only hear the positives of The New Idea That Is Now The Best Idea Ever And In No Way Likely To Fail.*
You feel at peace. You take actions to effectively sever ties with the first idea, almost feeling nostalgic in your New Idea euphoria.
A eurphoria that lasts all of an hour before;
An insidious and cruel feature of your mind that haunts any positivity, any New Idea, any thing at all really.
Now The Best Idea Ever is silly.
Insurmountably impossible and your world is spiralling out of control with despair at your ridiculous ambitious delusions.
Your pour a large glass of wine and reflect.
You savour the hell out of that divine substance.
You’re doomed, but it tastes good and that means things are all right.
….so do you know?
No? I guess it’s just me.
Another glass, dear.
This is the question on everybody’s lips.
That is, everybody that’s at the center of my life.
That is; Baby Leafy. (Even she thinks that’s her name now. The oft repeated game of ‘where’s the baby?’ is met with confusion when addressed in any other way.)
Once again I’ve unenrolled from university. The suggestion of a private practice career still in health care that involves working with ones hands and building relationships with clients has lead me to physiotherapy.
Since my heinous SIJ issues whilst cooking leafy and the wonderful treatment I had at the hands of my Physio Claire, the ideas been at the back of my mind. Working regular hours without the pressure of night shift, plus the possibility of being my own boss for just four years work? Yes please.
So I’ve got the year to play with again. I ought to get something done, I hear you say.
Yes. This is true. We need to move house, so that buying one doesn’t seem so imminent.
But I want to buy various items of very little importance to decorate someone else’s home that I borrow for an exorbitant price!
I want a pretty winter wardrobe! (Incidentally i’ve just had a major clean out and have no winter stuff. Guess Tropical Queensland didn’t send me off with a whole lot of warm gear.)
I want to read novels!
I want to get fit!
I want to spend a bit more time with my mildly settled high maintenance beauty bubba and her ever patient father!
Perhaps I’ll get a job, take some pressure off of wonder papa.
In reality I’ll procrastinate like an abosloute pro and it’ll be January again before you know it.
Am I even making the right choice?
I hear ya, Leafy. What am I doing with my life?