Gyptian

I’ve applied for another round of jobs. These are really cool ones as well, like being a tour guide in Reykjavik, or a youth camp leader in Devon, or a barge deckhand in France.

I’m not feeling hopefully but maybe – maybe – I might actually get something.

Thing is, I’m going crazy here. All the people I know are out of town, and the two friends I have who are still in Reading are so consumed by their art degrees (not knocking it; it’s awesome to have a passion) that I nearly never see them. I miss people. Being with other young, inspired, up-for-anything people.

I’m starting to doubt everything about myself; whether I’m likeable, whether I’m any good at music, whether I’m a traitor to my own convictions, whether I’m boring… Bullshit questions like that which I know the real answers to, not the ones elicited by loneliness and feeling sorry for myself. I’m pissed off at myself for being so shy and lazy and I can’t keep comforting myself with spinach omelettes and sitcoms.

I hope I get one of these jobs. Especially working on barge. Because god help me, I am never happier than when my hands are dirty, my back is sore and there’s a song in my throat. I want to be a sailor, not a half-hearted student on pause.

Ahoy there captain. Whisk me away.

When I have some good news I’ll let you know. Sadly there is no news at the moment other than; oh, there’s another job I didn’t get or, oh there’s another person who’s bailed on me.

Sorry. I try not to blog like this. Sometimes I just need a place to vent.

 

Y, hola, Gaby! Disculpa me, este blog no es muy alegre. No soy siempre trista. ¡Sólo tengo hacer algo! Me gusta que tu es aqui. :)