Thinking time ...

is something I haven't had a lot of lately.

There's just so much pressure pushing from inside and without that I can barely find the time to laze on the sofa for hours in front of the TV.

The past week has found me fascinated with my ability to procrastinate. I've been left speechless with my ability to do nothing in times of great urgency.

I worry about my constant conviction that things will always be okay. Sure, they might be okay, but that friend who will only have the one hen night might appreciate you removing your head from under the desk and making some plans that somehow reflect how much you care about her.

Sitting in a group of designers tonight I found myself wondering why I'd never gone the whole creative route. Why I'd happily stayed on the sidelines bossing people around. Sure, it's because I'm bloody fantastic at telling people what to do and how I want them to do it. But perhaps it's because I never had to take the risk. I never had to fight for what I wanted. Though I may have had times when I didn't get what I want, I've never had to face any sort of real struggle.

A very good friend once said I made her feel comfortable about not having any siblings for her son. She thought I was a good example of a stable, confident, sucessful and well balanced only child. It'd break my heart to actually get around to telling her she was wrong.

And there ends my life synopsis. A grand reflection of what might have been if I could have been bothered.

Fuzzy Headed

It's not one of those instances when I'm thinking "Surely it was just yesterday that I was heading off to Atlanta?!" Right now I'm reasonably sure that I made that wonderful, hot, humid, soul-feeding trip sometime last year. And I'd also lay money down, convinced that the world has converted to a six-day working week.

But I have a feeling that's just my company.

I feel like I have so much more to say about the grey-tinted glasses that are obviously impeding my view of the world right now. I tell myself that if things weren't quite so grey, there would be paragraphs of eloquent prose discussing my current funk, an attainable work-life balance, plans for the future, visions of how life could be and how I could get there.

But the fog just keeps closing in, and I'm losing the ability to see even the plain and dismal.

I want to feel passionate about something again, and not just a passionate hatred.

And right when I can't take it any more I'm reminded of how things could be worse. How there are people suffering in much more vivid ways than my self-indulgent mope. That some people don't have the ability to get themselves out of the headspace I'm in. And then I get annoyed with myself. And then I get annoyed with myself getting annoyed with myself because even if my problems are completely first-world, middle class, white-collar problems, they are still mine and what's the point of being here if I don't listen to myself?

And then I think I should think less and just get back to work.

Leaving on a jet plane ...

3 months later and we're finally off to Atlanta!

Can't believe it's almost here ... starts tomorrow evening with a Lingerie Shower/Bachelorette Party, then a Bridesmaids' Lunch, Rehearsal Dinner and at long last the big day on Saturday.

I'm so excited to see Katherine & Ollie tie the knot and I'm really looking forward to the proper Southern knees-up.

Then it's a tour of the south full of BBQs, belles and beautiful balmy weather.

Bring it on!

Advance Australia Fair

Australians all let us rejoice ...

I'm more proud than I thought possible to announce that as of today I'll be rejoicing alongside my Mum! After 35-ish years of living permanently in Australia (plus a few years before she was married - sacrebleu!) my dear mother decided to become an Australian citizen! We've got no idea where she came up with the idea or what spurred her on, but after months of forms, references, police checks and finally today's citizenship ceremony she's a true blue Aussie. I'm so proud I could burst!

Her first text to me as an Australian? "Goodday" ... I had to do a little bit of training ... "I think you'll find it's 'G'Day' now. Learn the lingo Sheila"

For we are young and free ...

thanks to the hundreds of thousand of men and women who have risked and given their lives for my right to live in freedom. I'm a little ashamed to say that last Sunday morning was the first ANZAC dawn service I've ever attended that wasn't on a work day. In fact, I'd never attended a dawn service before I moved to London and prior to that I'd never been to a service that I wasn't forced to sit through at school.

I'm not really the sort of people who's eternally grateful for the life I get to lead - I tend more towards immediate emotional gratification. But for the last few years I've been waking up at the crack of dawn, hopping on the night bus and dragging my sorry self to Hyde Park Corner all for the 5am service (not just for the tea and biscuits)!

For the next 40 minutes I'm filled with this indescribable pride and a most unusual sense of history. From living in a country with a past as far back as you can imagine, in a city with buildings I walk past every day that were built before anyone in Europe even imagined my homeland existed, to giving thanks for sacrifices that occurred within my grandfather's lifetime, for those people fighting battles every day as I make my way to work.

It doesn't matter what I think of the wars that are currently occurring, only that I'm grateful that there are, and always have been, people who are willing to fight for my right to work my guts out in an office all day in relative peace.

I'm a proud little Aussie this week. Don't get me wrong, I sang 'God Save the Queen' with pride as well, but as the British national election draws ever closer I can't help but been a teensy bit more proud of those valiant Anzacs at Gallipoli.

We will remember them. Lest we forget.

A poem for the ones I love ...

Not every flower can say love.

But a rose can.

Not every plant survives thirst.

But a cactus can.

Not every vegetable can read.

But bless, look at you having a little go.


This made me stupidly happy today. I obviously take pleasure in the VERY little things these days!

xxxooo

I love you baaaaaaa-by!

Walked out the front door this morning to be greeted by one of the garbage collectors bellowing "You're just too good to be true" at the top of his lungs. As I made my way to the station the echoes of his singing followed me down the street.

I'm not saying I want the garbage men who collect at 4am to sing and wake me up. It was just a nice start to the morning is all.

Somewhere beginning with 'L'

How often does YOUR flatmate take you away for a surprise weekend?

Yes, it's true ... I have the best flatmate in the whole entire world ever ...

Plus some pretty amazing friends who could barely wait to surprise me (at 5.45 in the morning) with party hats and streamers.

Just a teaser for now ...