Fat Bunny

  • Maybe…

    As I clear out the farm I’m going back and forth on what to do with it, or more specifically when. Do I sell up and buy something more suitable like an city apartment? Do I hang onto it as it is for a while and gamble that the village becomes a super fashionable hangout for rich wankers? Do I sink a couple of years into doing up into an eco cabin retreat and then sell?

    It would be nice if I could see a clear path, both metaphorically and physically. Am I keen to get rid of it quickly because of memories and the amount of work? I do have a fear that if I don’t get rid of it as soon as I can I will still be there in 10 years time with a whipper snipper permanently grafted to my arm.

    Maybe ten years ago I had the energy to make something special out of it. Maybe if my health is suddenly improved by next year. Maybe if the kids weren’t such city mice… maybe… maybe… maybe.

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  • Sigh…

    A few days before Christmas and my doctor has pulled me off half my medication to see if the treatment is causing other problems. So despite all my rage I am still just a rat having weird symptoms.

    Lab Tests and Cat Scans…

    Now I’m just killing a few hours till I can either get a cat scan today, or if I have to wait till after Christmas. I’m really trying to not freak out… but I’m totally freaking out.

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  • Visits…

    My father used to visit at least once a week. He would call about an hour beforehand and I would rush about cleaning the house before he arrived. It was a great system, no motivation required on my part.

    There are no more visits now, and I forget that about three times a week as I make coffee for one, as I see something that he would have found interesting, when I just need to talk to someone who knows me and doesn’t judge.

    I like to kid myself that I’m okay with my own company, but I suspect I’m just very good at distracting myself. Quiet moments of reflection tend to send me into a bit of a depression. It’s probably why formal psychologist settings just feels like running razors through my feelings every visit, and 50mins every few weeks never gives things a chance to heal, or receive enough treatment to heal anything.

    I hate people saying things to me like “it’s the first Christmas” or “birthdays are hard” no shit Sherlock, that’s up there with “some people have it worse”. It doesn’t help, and I’m still mad about the whole situation, so people trying to help are walking in a hell of a minefield, because I was a prickly son of bitch before they added grief, trauma, and some poorly medicated depression into the mix. I’m both grateful for peoples attempts to help, and completely incapable of accepting that help.

    I miss my dad, he was genuinely my best friend, and it sucks that he is gone.

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  • Might Just Lie Down (again)…

    Anyone else starting to feel a bit worn out by things? No? Just me then. Maybe I took the whole last couple of years to personally, that whole pandemic, crap health, poor choices, dying relatives thing has slightly dampened my enthusiasm for life, and the impending Christmas shenanigans in less than a week aren’t helping. So like the protagonist in an overly dramatic romantic novel I’ve taken to my bed.

    Current View.

    I’m currently dreading the need to go and get groceries, because unmasked crowds are making me equally anxious for my health, and rage filled at peoples selfish choices. so I’m going to leave it a couple of hours till things calm down, both in the shopping center and my digestive tract.

    Waiting for Sunset.

    I have a doctors appointment on Thursday, to follow up on the last lot of tests, so I might see if I can take a couple of weeks off current medication to see if I am sick from the cure or the disease. Because I’m a bit over it at the moment, and it would be nice to feel vaguely human for a bit.

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  • LEGO CASTLE MEMORIES…

    My favorite Lego set is the 1978 classic castle 375, or maybe it’s my most nostalgia ridden set? I purchased this set on sale from Myers in the Sydney CBD when I was staying with my Aunt in Fairfield.

    My Uncle Nick took me shopping so I could spend my country mouse money in the big city. I bought this set, a lego technics Buggy, a technics motor, and a plastic dinosaur model kit of a triceratops. It was a once a year splurge that accompanied my yearly Sydney holidays, and I can remember so many of those weeks more clearly than most things that ever happened during the rest of the year in the country.

    I remember sitting on the floor in the front room, after locking the door to prevent being interrupted by my Aunts small army of Pomeranians, and building for hours. Lost in my own bright yellow medieval castle. I of course used the technics motor and gear kit to automate the drawbridge, because I was that kind of child.

    It’s was very relaxing to just take some time to build the castle again. No music, no distractions, just a pile of bricks and an instruction manual that only confused me a couple of times, and a few adjustments because the stickers where already applied so those pieces needed to go in a different order.

    I remembered at the end that the other knights are in a box with the jousting set, and that’s in the top of a cupboard I haven’t gotten to yet, so I’m going to have to wait till I have time to do a full Lego sort to get the whole kingdom organized, but this was a pleasant way to spend an hour. I can see scheduling a bit more time to do this kind of thing next year, it’s been far more effective at quietening my mind than meditating has been recently.

    Time lapse of Lego Castle 375 Build.
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  • Clean Room Chronicles Pt 3…

    I’m starting to think I could have given the whole house an acceptable tidy up in the time its taken to do one room. Actually I’m sure. But I’ve woken up to wardrobe doors I’m not scared to open.

    I also slept better than i have in a while, possibly due to the reduction in clutter, and possibly due to the three dyson loads of dust I removed from every surface in the room.

    The desk is not perfect, but it’s dust free and clear enough to work on, and for now that’s good enough.

    I’m working on the “good enough” thing, because I know that getting things to 90% right is pretty much the only achievable goal for most people, and 100% right but only 5% done is not a great way to live.

    So it’s not perfect but it’s not stressing me out, and that’s a win.

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  • Clean Room Chronicles Pt 2…

    At 9am this morning my room was almost 95% done, as long as you didn’t look in the closets of course. Luckily I’m single and no but me ever opens my closets, so as long I keep the doors closed it’s fine.

    An hour later…

    Total carnage that in no way helps any visible parts of the house, in fact it’s made a mess elsewhere. And I could quite easily put it all back in a slightly more organized manner and maybe stall running out of space for a little longer, or I can actually get rid of some stuff.

    I’m going to do both, even though it’s only been about 6 months since my last purge, it’s definitely time for another round. I’m telling myself even if I only get rid of 10% each time it will all add up. I’m going to bite the bullet and get rid of the empty tech boxes, I like to tell myself I can use them when I decide to get rid of the items they belong to, but that happens so rarely, and ads very little to the price that it’s just a waste of useful storage in a house without much.

    I suspect there is going to be a Part 3 later tonight, and probably a Part 4 tomorrow as I’m going down a cleaning rabbit hole. In the meantime enjoy the clean side of the room with sun and fresh breezes.

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  • Clean Room Chronicles Pt 1…

    Maybe the reason I find hotel rooms so relaxing is because they are not full of stuff, unlike my room at the moment.

    So I’m going to take a weekend off to completely spring clean my room. Wash, vacuum, dust blah blah blah, all the small jobs that I’ve neglected lately. I know that I sleep better in a clean and organized space, and my sleep has been pretty bad recently for a lot of reasons. and giving my brain a break from the clutter. Especially my desk, which is at the end of my bed, so constantly in view. I wish I had room for a separate office, but I don’t.

    So let’s remove as much of the problem as we can by clearing all the flat surfaces, or at least the visible ones, and then dumping it all in a big pile.

    I often think all my clutter problems would be resolved by having one extra room. Of course that way madness lies, and hiding clutter isn’t actually the solution, but sometimes it would be nice.

    Tune in tomorrow for Part 2, when I will either freak out and runaway, or get frustrated and just start throwing things out. There is no sensible middle ground.

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  • Stranger than Fiction…

    Over the past two years I’ve decimated my library. This 90% reduction has come about by mostly getting rid of all fiction books, which made sense when I realized I rarely reread fiction. So I’ve gone from 1000s of books to 100s, and the hundreds are mostly reference books, because I revisit art,design, craft etc books especially since you can dive in and out.

    I also have an ever growing collection of self development/lifestyle books, but I tend to cull those fairly often once I feel I’ve gotten everything I’m going to get out of them.

    If I can stop buying boxes of remaindered books from online sites and just borrow books from libraries I’d eventually have even more empty shelf space. However the selection in rural libraries can be quite broad, which is a problem for those of us with niche interests.

    From the $65au box of books that arrived this morning I will keep less than half. Some will get read and given away, some will get half read and given away, a few will get abandoned in coffeeshops. A few will end up in my reference shelves, and some will end up repurposed, because I have books about that too.

    *note: When I said decimated I meant the modern term not the roman version. If you want to be pedantic I guess it was me keeping one in every ten books so an anti-decimation?

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  • My Mom is Ghost Rider…

    I find it difficult to be in the same room as my mother for more than 15mins before arguments start. I should probably mention my mother finds herself constantly surrounded by people who can’t be around her without starting an argument. She’s very unlucky like that, I guess she just attracts argumentative people?

    So why is she Ghost Rider? It’s the penance stare, that special ability to make someone experience are the pain and suffering they have caused others. Except with my mother it’s me seeing her still showing objectionable behaviors that she taught me, and that it’s taken me years to expel from myself.

    Spending time with her is exactly like spending time with 20 year old me, and I hated that guy then, and now I’m ashamed to have been him. It’s not my job to change her, and honestly if she was capable of being a better person she probably shouldn’t have left it so long.

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