| Feb. 2nd, 2009 @ 12:14 pm Dreams are Reminding Me of You |
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It's been a while.
Things have changed, stuff has happened, people have come and go.
I'm back in Canada. Shockingly, I am not impressed. It's cold, it's bleak, the service sucks. But it's home. Ish.
Michael is here with me. Michael is...well, not the dream man I thought. Again, shocking. There is no such thing as a dream man. He is, however, exceptionally well matched to me. He drives me completely mental, but he takes the full force of my pregnancy aggression and doesn't bat an eye. He is a good man.
Oh yeah. I am pregnant. I forget, sometimes. I think I make an effort not to think of it, in the vain hope that it will just disappear. Well no, that's cruel. I love the little seamonkey in my tummy (my friends call it "Bean"), but the realisation that my life as I have known it is suddenly, irrevocably, drawing to an end terrifies me. Knowing that this was not what I wanted, not what I had planned, had my wishes been taken into account this WOULD NOT HAVE HAPPENED makes me angry.
I was meant to start Medicine this year. Accepted, ready to enroll, wonderful 3-year distance-ed bachelor with a week's residency in Wagga once per semester. Good one, God. Joke's on me. Is this your way of saying I waited too long?
Oh well. Such is life. I own a car, now. My first big purchase. My first joint purchase. I have my first joint bank account, made my first joint across-the-world trip. Realising I prefer to be alone - but only during the day. Doesn't work like that.
Stood up to my dad. It's hard to ignore someone standing across the table from you, bawling and screeching. Would've been nice to do it with more dignity. The hormones won. Life feels more balanced now. My dad loves me.
Apparently, I have an education fund. I suspect this was hastily thrown together when the business took off, as I was the only child without a bona fide fund, but I am grateful nonetheless. Considering taking a few odds-and-ends courses online to fill my maternity leave.
I finish work in May. I would work longer, but I work long hours nearly an hour out of town, and the 5.30AM - 6.30PM days kill me. I couldn't imaging working past 7.5 months. At least it's a compressed workweek now. Mon-Thurs. Three day weekends.
It's strange to work with my dad. The initial plan was to keep it secret, let no-one know who I was. This is why I'm contracted to Bechtel, several trailers away from Taurus. The cover was kind of blown when he started loudly calling me "Princess Poo-Poo", and surprising me in my office. Now it's more or less common knowledge. Still, I get the chance to spy on the unsuspecting riders of the commuter coach (provided by Shell) back to Edmonton. I love to hear what they have to say about dad's company.
The break-up and move out was surprisingly smooth. My damage deposit was withheld, but that was the only hitch. I got out of a months' bills and two weeks' rent - we're even, I suppose. I've stopped caring.
I miss home. I miss my friends. I miss warm weather, kangaroos, cockatoos screeching like banshees at 6 AM. I miss cheap trains, coffee at Koko Black, dinners at Milk and Honey, and shopping for nothing in particular for hours on end in Canberra Centre. I miss the Tea House in downtown Sydney. I miss the ANU. I miss Black Mountain, Hamish and Andy, and the chicken schnitzel sandwiches I used to buy with a soy latte for lunch. I miss my own house, and my morning routine. I miss my cats. I miss risotto for lunches, and pouring rain, and catching Action buses with my iPod blaring in one ear. I miss my Nokia mobile (it won't work here) and texting every 20 minutes, because we were all too lazy to just CALL. I miss Friday Night Girls' Night. I miss gummy bear vodka and getting pissed at the empty trendy bar downtown, then stumbling home in the dark, laughing. I miss eating home-made German salads, big steaks, and watching YouTube on Kat's bed while sipping absynthe. I miss karaoke and fending off Kat's suitors. I miss meeting up at Cafe Essen for a moan and a latte.
I miss everything.
But I'll try to make a go of it here. I need to go visit mum, and go visit Kev. Perhaps this upcoming long weekend I can fly to Victoria. Wish mum was more accessible.
I'm meant to be getting married. I'm meant to be getting married very shortly. Within a month or so. Something small, simple, legal. Something to cover until we can do the "legitimate" Catholic wedding that I never wanted, but will have to keep the peace. This frightens me, although I wanted it. Want it? I think so. Cynthia made a good point. She said wait, think it through. I said, but you and dad got married quickly. She said, and it's still a work in progress. Think it through. Looking at their marriage frightens me. Michael's not like that - but I know our relationship (like any relationship) would take a lot of work. Hmm.
Came to my senses abruptly. Could never be Catholic - I think too much, I question EVERYTHING. Nothing about it makes sense. I can believe in God on my own terms, I could never conform. I tried, and my life is the richer for it.
It's all so much to think about, all at once.
I have strange, vivid dreams. Life like, emotional. They suck me in. Last night I was a werewolf in a desolate, empty Victoria. All the humans had been eaten but a handful, among them Jono and his family. I saved him by having him pretend to be a werewolf as well...then ate another human in front of him. It tasted like a pink popsicle. Very vivid, very emotional, very disturbing. I am told this is common in pregnant women.
Time to work, and eat the enormous Costco Greek salad I brought for lunch. |
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