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Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Talking about My Car .... My Car!

The one I fell for (well not this one exactly, but a carbon copy) ... Nissan Dualis


Sitting in the waiting room of the Nissan dealership waiting for my new car to have her first service. Have I told you lately that I love her? 

Just yesterday, I had to go do the shopping and it was so easy to park and I had a spring in my step because I had independence and freedom and my own freaking car! These little moments keep cropping up and I go wow, I have MY own car! And this sounds like I have been some little mousy downtrodden 'kept' wife who has been held in her place by not being allowed to have her own car. It's not like that at all. It was just circumstance that led to this situation. 

First we had the work cars. 3 little Micras at our beck and call to take home whenever we wanted. I could jump in one and go do errands or visit Ikea. (little constricting to go to Ikea in a Micra - I mean how do I fit in a new bookcase, doona cover, 5 packs of paper napkins, a cutlery drawer organiser, three pots and matching plants, a set of coasters ... none of which I wanted or needed until I arrived in the great hall!.) But as the business got busier and the techs needed their cars, (how rude) I found that my opportunities to escape with a Micra were less and less and then I would get a phone call to ask me how long was going to be? Huh? You cant predict that in Ikea. It takes as long as it takes people!

Then was the time I was at the hairdressers, a place I find stressful at the best of times, and I was practicing my Zen pose whilst making small talk with an Irish hairdresser I could not understand, when I had no less than 4 calls and just as many text messages asking how long was I going to be! That was it. Something needed to change.

I could have taken the 'ute' - our Nissan (see a pattern here?) Navara Dualcab ute to Ikea or the hairdressers. Sure I could have fitted an extra 2 seater sofa, matching coffee tables, a shelving system, doona and pillows to go with the cover, but at a cost of my euphoric feeling after having tried to park a huge boys ute with bullbar and winch on the front and treg hitch on the back. Not to mention putting nice things in the tray that last week had gravel and mulch and a bale of hay. And certainly not mentioning the smell of border collie in the front, or the black and white hairs flying all over the place. And how could I possibly get, all dainty like and coiffed hair, into a ute!

And yes, I hear you asking, Mr K does have a car and I can use that ... but I value my marriage and my sanity. Backing out Mr K's Jag from our very narrow, long, awkward driveway is just the start of the anxiety. Once you get on the road, there are other nut cases dong stupid things near his precious Jag. Then you get to the shops and drive right down the very back of the parking area so you can get a nice vacant space that is not next to some old clanger whose owner doesn't give a toss about banging the doors. But then you also panic cause now you have parked so far away from any other people and surveillance and some tosser might run their keys down the car and .... no, no, not on my watch. I would rather not be responsible for one little mark on the Jag thanks very much. 

So that left me carless (as opposed to careless). Well I did get offers from the MIL to take her car. Which was lovely of her but it was so OLD. Not the car, no that's a couple of years old Nissan Tiida. No, its an old ladies car INSIDE. It has a funny beaded seat cover, old shopping bags, a walking stick, and a walker in the back. A straw hat, and then you turn it on and the radio has some stuffy FM on. I felt like I was 100 years old when I drove it. 

So, that left me really, really carless! Opportunity arose when the last payment of then Navara came up and I could salary sacrifice my own car. So what did I choose? A Jag? ha-ha. Get real. Not enough Xanax in the world for that. Nope it had to be a Nissan of course. Mr K had seen this new car called a Juke. Looked pretty funky in the brochures and online. So we went for a look. Yes it did look funky but way too over the top for me. 


I'm too sexy for this car .... the Nissan Juke


I went and tried every car in he lot, the Xtrail, Pulser, Juke, and finally a Dualis. I had discounted the Dualis as the first models looked so mundane and 'soccer mummsy'. But there was this pimped up one, the sports TI with mag wheels and spoiler and leather seats and moon roof and white pearl paint and little rails on the roof. That was it. I fell for her. 

Which brings me to now. Here I sit, waiting for her to have her bits checked and okayed and we can be reunited. They wouldn't let me in the workshop to hold her steering wheel. I may have embarrassed myself by sobbing a little.

Monday, February 17, 2014

Monday ... should rename it to get-yourself-organised-day



Why is it that Mondays always are the days we give ourselves the good talking to? The day we start a diet. The day we will set the alarm early and get up and go for a brisk walk. The day we will make a healthy lunch at home to take to work. The day we get ready for work peacefully instead of a hideous rush and leave the house with wet hair and un-ironed shirt (it looks OK, doesn't it?  I just wont take my jacket off). The day we plan with our partner to have a date night this week. The day we eat Bircher muesli and fresh blueberries for breakfast.




By Tuesday we have fallen back into old habits, we tell ourselves that this week isn't a great week to be starting new routines.  We have a meeting with the boss, a visit to the dentist, the car needs a service and besides it's so bloody hot. Next week I will start. I promise. I will even go buy a new diary today and write myself a proper schedule.

It's like a mini New Year resolution every week. The feeling of being in control on a Monday wanes away as Friday approaches and we collapse in a  guilt-fueled, I-give-up Saturday. Sunday night, what I always call Hair Washing Night - as that's when my mother would wash our hair and make sure all our school uniforms were washed and ready and we were made to pack our school bags (often having to unpack the fish paste sandwich left there Friday) - is when we take stock of the less than satisfactory week and give ourselves a talking to, that starting Monday, things are going to change around here. (Can you hear my mother's voice here? I can!)



So what happens? Why this roller-coaster? Is it just me, or (I hope) do we all do this? We must do. I just read an article in The Australian that talks about our 5:2 lives. How we live for five days of work that leave us depleted and emptied, and try and fit another life, our social and personal life, into the two days left in the week. I see the problem as having higher and higher expectations. We don't just have friends over for dinner, we have friends over for a dinner designed by Delicious Magazine, in a house that Grand Designs inspired, with a walk around the garden modeled after Monty Don's French Gardens. Impossible standards, unless you have a maid and a chef and a gardener. And that's just a part of the weekend - there is the washing, cleaning, shopping, lawn mowing, pool cleaning, kids sports, car washing, dog washing, blower vac-ing .... and on and on it goes.

(Binge, crash: Welcome to the 5:2 lifestyle
SHANE WATSON THE AUSTRALIAN FEBRUARY 17, 2014 12:00AM)

So, never one to admit failure, I keep trying to get it 'right.'

I set my alarm this morning. I had written a plan (this was after an inspirational writing course this last weekend) to rise at 6am. Do my chores and be sitting at my desk, coffee in hand, open page and spend the next hour writing.

At 6:01am I turned off the alarm, mumbled to the dog, "I'll do it tomorrow" and went back to sleep. In my wisdom (I know myself well) I had set another alarm at 6:30am. 
6:32am - I found my phone stuffed under 3 pillows, and turned that alarm off too.

At what point do we give up completely and just get on with life?



Disclaimer - I apologise that my blog posts might sound odd and jaggered. I have spent the last few months (in blog exile) writing academic essays. I feel the need to reference everything and write a bibliography. Hopefully I will loosen up a bit as I write more!




Thursday, February 13, 2014

Oh Yay!!! I got my blog back.

It got hacked. Some nasty little Malware got into my blog and it has been shut down for the last 5 months!  

I was so scared I had lost you all, and lost me with it.

So I now have protection ... should not be catching any nasties anymore!

I got so much to tell you all ... go get a bucket of coffee and a whole box of Tim Tams ..

:-)  I am just a little bit happy (well a lot happy)