Time. 6 months. Halfway through. At first I thought I’d never make it but now it’s slipping by. All in a rush, rush, rush. It couldn’t go fast enough but now it’s way too fast.
Rain. Wrapping myself up in a cheap-arse raincoat I bought for a couple of bucks from the local Circle-K. Makes me feel like a fat, green penguin. I keep it in the seat of my motorbike and use it daily. I lost my phone to the rain. Slipped it in the pocket of my jacket on the way home from Muay Thai. Rookie mistake.
Waves. I fly to Bali every other month for a fix. Short skirts, beer, waves, a breath of relief from the stares and the questions. I relax in the green of the waves. Wrecked arms, a satiated heart. A flight back home in the nighttime.
Time. 8 months. Hating it. Can’t get back to the water soon enough. Every spare second I’m planning lessons or teaching. Too. Much. Work. Stressed. Computers breaking. Covering shifts. No fucking paper in the printer. Photocopier dead.
Time. 9 -10 months. Executing well-made plans. Time off. A flight. A pile of resumés. A map. A list of schools. A moto. Work clothes. Interviewed on second day. Now I’ll just go surfing.
Time. 10 months. Happy. Sad. Moto sold (my baaaaaaby). Throwing things. Giving things away. Packing. Planning. Documents. Time flying. Time standing still. Told contract finishes a week earlier than I expected, yusss. Counting down the days; this many days, this many work days, a holiday, return, this many days, this many work days. Done.
Time. 11 months. A holiday. 11 days of water, salt, and waves. 16 more days. 10 more work days.
My life is somewhat surreal. It’s weird that it’s completely normal for me to wake up, walk outside to a food-cart on the street, grab dumplings, steamed buns, donuts, and a coffee, and sit in the street eating breakfast. It’s weird that then I walk off to work in a foreign country. It’s weird jumping on a little motor-scooter and riding through an unfamiliar town, in an unfamiliar country like it’s completely ordinairy. I enjoy it all so much.
So, I have three choices.
When I came to Thailand I thought I’d work for a few months, have a break between contracts for 2 months, and then re-sign my contract for a year. That option is still available to me. I love the hours I’m working here; officially I do 16 teaching hours, but 22 official hours p/w (I work a lot more planning lessons, but as time goes by that will reduce). I like my workplace, co-workers, managers, and I like the job. But there’s no surf. And there’s no option to go for a surf. The only surfing I would do in the next year if I stayed at this job would be in the 2 month break between contracts. I’d probs fly to Sri Lanka or back to Indonesia and surf my arse off.
My second option (that I’m not taking very seriously), is to go to Sri Lanka and work for pretty much no money with a seriously flaky lady who interviewed me over Skype in her nightie. I’d basically get accommodation and food in return for teaching a few hours a week at her private school. It’s very close to amazing surf-spots.
My third option is to go to Indonesia. The job is a lot of hours, (26 teaching hours but 40 official hours), so I’d be working like crazy. The part of Indonesia I’d be going to wouldn’t be close to surf, but I’d be able to fly to Bali occasionally for a weekend here and there (which is better than here!). I’d probably get a couple of weeks of surf in Bali when this contract ends and the new one starts. The only reason I’m hesitating somewhat about that option is that the job is with a franchise and I haven’t heard many good things about them.
So…. ermmm, the other option is to do none of those things and find something somewhere else instead. All I want is surf, decent hours, and enough money to live on. Suggestions?
If you’re wondering why I’m still here not celebrating being this close to GTFOing
At first, time was flying by. I was having a great time in the house, and as the end-date drew closer, work was tolerable. I came across an 8 week photography course which runs for a couple of hours Saturday mornings and finishes at the end of June. I didn’t want to finish work at the end of May and hang around here for a month until the course finished, so I changed my leave. Now, I gotta tell you, time seems to have stopped. What is it with time, man?
My last day is in June, but I took next week off too. I’m seriously struggling to get there. Yes, really. All I want to do at the moment is sit at home and drink, alone or with my housemates, I don’t care. I don’t feel particularly anxious at the moment, nor restless. I am waiting, to walk out of the job. I’m really wondering if my creativity will start up again. I just feel so utterly dull.
I would like to inform you that you added miserably to the befuddlement I endured this morning. Upon return to this hellhole, after a 5 week stint in Spain and Morocco, I found a number of my items missing;
1. Windows Login
2. Set of Drawers
5. Database Login.
6. Keys to set of drawers
My befuddlement and misery was protracted by; the jetlag thudding hideously within the depths of my skull, the beuareaucratic red-tape nightmare that is the system login password reset process, and the fact that I somehow managed to destroy two computers, all before 8.30 am. This afternoon, as my faculties and possessions have slowly been restored, It was brought to my attention that you, YOU young man, are responsible for the cunning theft of my chair (affectionately referred to as The Galah). My god man, what are you trying to do, Kill me?
Please be advised that I have ‘borrowed’ another chair (You see man, you see what chain of events you have set in motion!) and upon its rightful owner’s return, apparently next week, I will require the return of the galah.
When filling out an application on behalf of a customer to be handed in to government dept B, can you please write more than just the customer’s surname and first initial on the application. There are 3 ZILLION CUSTOMERS ON THE DATABASE WITH THAT SURNAME AND FIRST INITIAL. A first name and maybe even a Date of Birth would help. I have many applications to process today, it is a time consuming process which is not hastened by the fact that I have to spend 20 mins trying to figure out exactly who the application is for!!!!
I’m having a few days off work. I’ve been looking forward to it for months. I thought I’d just loll around at home internetting, reading, writing and scratching my fanny. I’d given myself permission to do those things, to do nothing. I spent the first few days getting stuff done; taxes, banking, cleaning, and all that boring shit that niggles at my conscience when I’m doing ‘nothing’ when I should be doing ‘boring shit’.
Today is the first day that I’ve had nothing that I have to get done. I sat down this morning to surf the net and said to myself ‘You’re allowed to do this, just let yourself do nothing’. Even so, I constantly think about all the other stuff that I should be getting done, the stuff that isn’t urgent but needs to be dealt with at some stage; advertise a lounge to sell, the house needs a big clean, the lawn needs mowing, next semester’s unit materials have arrived and I could get a head start on that, I could write blog content (ha ha ha), look for another job, think about what I might like to do with the rest of my life, make a plan when I figure out what I want to do with my life or I could write something, anything! All those bits and pieces wiggle away in my brainflesh telling me ‘ur doin it rong!
Even if I do allow myself the pleasure of leisure I argue with myself that it’s the wrong kind of leisure. If I surf the net I should be reading. If I’m reading then I should be cooking. It seems that only when I am working or studying – socially approved pastimes – that I feel that I am using my time productively. Protestant Work Ethic anyone?