Is a travel journal permitted to encompass aspects of life that are in no discernible way related to traveling? Moot point really, considering yours truly has undertaken a degree of movement that, it shall be revealed, is irrefutable proof of traveler being an appropriate epithet at present. And more movement is too follow, at least until I can finish the superfluous All Bran. Ah yes, somethings never change! A toilet joke in only the third sentence. Possibly a timely indication of what is to follow.
So where am I and where have I been? After last nights craziness, I am not posing that as a rhetorical question! Hence, that witticism reveals the fact that I must again be in the company of Adam and Gemma. YAH! A beautiful Lismore morning sun is caressing my milky skin for the first time in months. And yes, that meteorological reference gives away the fact that I have been in Melbourne for a considerable amount of time. Far more time than was desirable, but necessary given the terminally dire slant of my financial state.
It equated to a state of limbo, where many factors worked towards a more constructive and briefer stay there. Post holiday blues merged with inconsistent work, giving birth to a lack of direction and its resulting existential angst, topped off by unseasonally warm Melbourne weather; that was still too cold for my taste. It was my birthday around that time, and being with family members was a sufficient reason to hang around. Not just for the presents too, I should add, seeing as my past actions necessitate mentioning that wasn't my intentions this time. Being able to spend so much time with family was one of the highlights of the stay, as it has been years since I have been able to see them so frequently.
Now I have had my fill of that though, it was time to broaden my horizons. The aforementioned lack of direction has resulted in nearly all forms of employment being considered. Advice givers more knowledgeable and trust worthy than my split personalities have advised me to follow my easily forgotten dream, and stop struggling against the overwhelming body of evidence that proves this is the right direction to go. Overseas to teach English! An experience bound to push the boundaries of my personal skills, as well as pushing the boundaries of lunacy in a classroom, and also provide further cross-cultural misunderstandings to fill my journal with everyday observances. Win-win. I might even get paid for the effort.
Until then, I have to find some sort of temporary employment to be able to actually get there. The government seems quite content to fund my wanderings for now, but things might get a bit ugly when I have to submit an empty 'jobseekers' diary. I've never had trouble finding work, or Mums never had trouble finding any for me, so I have no reason to believe this is going to be any different. Unless the job market is more challenging for old geezers like me, aged 32 and above. And with the ultimate in funky cheese, the waxed up handlebar moustache, succumbing to the razor, I am more employable than ever.
Fruit picking or farm work seems the most likely option for now. It is endeavour appealing enough for Adam to join me for the couple of weeks I will stick at it before finally working out that city boy fancies the baby softness of his hands more than long hours working on the land. Especially when the government makes it surprisingly simple to sit on my fat can and get paid to do absolutely fuck all, a degree of effort that seems well beyond the means of most people leeching off the welfare system. I think the derelicts loitering around Centrelink are actually employed by the government to scare people out of going to the office unless absolutely necessary. I need no further convincing that staying on the dole, irrespective of how easy it is to do, is tantamount to slow spiritual suicide.
As the possibility of partying with my 2 Asian amigos temptingly stretches before me as far as the eye can see, it is time to accept that such a lifestyle is more cyclic and restrictive, than liberating and elevating. So onwards and upwards, probably to Cairns, hopefully not alone at first, then overseas again. Stay tuned, where I cannot guarantee anything other than more inane dribble in a unique style that has proved to be inspirational to writers the world over, in how not to write something you hope to be even vaguely cohesive.
