045: A Room of One's Own

I have mentioned that I have moved house a few times now, so it's probably time I wrote about my new beautiful place. I shan't write about it all, but I will give you folks on the internet a tour of my favourite room in the whole house.

This, in true Katie style is my awfully messy study. It was a condition of the house hunting that there would be a room that I could claim to be my own aside from my bedroom. The Virginia Woolf inspired room of my own. And when we found this one both me and my sister (now my new roomie) fell in love. She with the master bedroom with ensuite and walk in robe - I with the spare bedroom. 

I have, for a long time, hated having my desk in my bedroom, because it becomes a space of clutter where all the things I am supposed to be doing get piled and chaos reigns. And even though this room is still the messiest in the house (I'm claiming that it's because it is where we are keeping all the things without a home while we are moving but I'm not sure how long I can play that card for) it is my favourite. 

It is the sunniest room in the morning, which also happens to be my prime writing time. It is literally a stones throw away from my bedroom (prefect for tossing anything that doesn't belong in one to the other) and I have grand plans for making it my little writing haven in our home. 

Do you out there also have your writing spaces? Your own Ms Woolf room? Or simply a corner in a hectic life? Are they as chaotic as mine? 

xo 

Katie  

030: "Heaven's Got a Plan for You"

 Today was a good day.

It started with coffee, and every good day begins with coffee. I then had the pleasure of going to inspect a new house. I hadn't really thought about moving, I was in love with my little uni that has been my sanctuary for the past three years  But when my housemate mentioned she was going to move in with some friends, and wondered if I wanted to come,I jumped on the opportunity. I've lived with a group before - and now that I've seen the beautiful house, I have a feeling that it is not going to be so hard.

On the drive home, my happy song was playing.

Then I went for coffee with a boy. (I know - this is strange) I did freak out for almost an hour before hand, changed clothes about twelve times and had to constantly reassure myself that he was going to murder me.

But I met him, (he didn't murder me, yay) and we had a very civilised coffee (it also included lunch, I had a pie and he had eggs) and we spoke of a shared affection for Disney movies and it was surprisingly not awkward. When we parted ways, he said we should do it all again some time.

On the drive home, my happy song was playing.

Today was a good day.

012: A Decidedly Good Week

Last Monday, I woke up a mess. I had overslept my morning class and a job interview and hair to rival Hermione Granger. I was running late and forgot to mention some crucial experience in the interview and nearly rammed into another car. All in all, it was a pretty shitty morning. And unfortunately, my week followed much the same course. 

Every day I was running late for something, an class presentation on Tuesday, (which literally involved running up five flights of stairs) dinner with my parents and working the late night shift everyday and getting suck in traffic all over the place. And to add to the stress, I had three assignments due by the end of the week and I had forgotten all about them until a few days before the due date. Sleeping and eating became optional extras. 

Safe to say, my week wasn't exactly perfect. 

On the Sunday night, as I drove home from work (it hadn't been a good shift, running late, got a couple of orders wrong and had been teetering on tears since my vacuum had exploded that morning) I decided that my bad week was over. And I was going to have a better week. 

Just with that slight change in attitude, things started to go better. With my assignments in and  a designated 'reading week' (AKA quarter semester break just for my class) and significantly less shifts the world around me freed up and I did it. I had a brilliant night sleep, read a couple of riveting novels and caught up with friends I hadn't seen in a while. I had another job interview, which went brilliantly - sat down and spoke for over an hour about working in hospitality and had the job offered to me on the spot. Had my involuntary life experiences for the week  and finally moved the furniture back into my flat. 

Sunday Morning - the results of a good week in my opinion 

And just to top the week off - had one of my bestest friends 21st - although I did spend some time holding back someone's hair, it wasn't my own, so I can always count that as a bonus.

I find it so surprising how much you are able to change purely by deciding that everything is going to be ok. What happened wasn't so different from the previous week, actually think more bad things happened, but the control I have over my mood and the power of positive thinking really can make an amazing difference to everything that happens. 

Now all that needs to happen is to keep this frame of mind, make it a constant things and everything should be swell. 

003: Limbo

At 2.13am, in the cloudy chaos of the arrival gates at Melbourne International airport, I lay eyes on my family for the first time in six. I saw my older sister, the tallest of the three, squirming around the heads in front of her, trying to peer through into the customs lounge. My younger sister, more stationary than usual - the bandage around her knee and the crutches keeping her upright - was grinning enthusiastically none the less. And beside her, my mum, still wearing her work suit from the day before, and holding the lumpy cardigan I had requested. I think I held up the stream of people trying to get to taxis and homes. But I didn’t care. I stood there in the middle of the walk way; tears building up on my eye lashes, being held by three sets of arms, thankful for the sudden comforts of home.

I had moved out of my parents house two years before heading to Europe, and for me, lounging in pyjamas, sipping wine with mum, and having a plentiful supply of food and internet usage is not exactly the life I led prior to my travels. My frugal living in a small, often untidy flat makes my time at mum and dad’s relaxing and freeing and rather indulgent. What with work and school and normal life that keep me in my university flat, I only got a few days a month when I was able to enjoy the idle nature of life by the beach, before I have to return to reality. For three days I have been living in this limbo. An unrealistic and unobtainable reality of what life could be like. Not needing to worry about the food on the table or whether an extra long shower will come to bite me in the bum at the end of the month. I may be home, in the home and country that I grew up in, surrounded by my family (and sorely missed dog) but I am not yet able to progress into normal life.

I am making plans and writing lists, re-wording my resume and inching closer to the pile of possessions sealed and stacked months in the corner of the spare room. But I cannot unpack, for I have no place to go. There are complications keeping me by the beach: I need to wait for manly muscle to help move my furniture back in, I needed to sit appointments; a long needed haircut and someone brave enough to look at my teeth and feet. But I have also needed to wait for processes beyond my control. Organising a re-issue of my licence and for a new phone to arrive (there lie two rather unamusing travel stories that will no doubt be recalled later).

And so, I have to wait. Wondering what it is that I will do with my newly returned free time.

Kathleen x