With this decision made, my notice has been handed in at work and now I must decide how the 40 hours a week of keeping the roof over my head will soon be spent.  (Not that that roof will always keep my head dry, as it turns out.)  And the fact that “something completely different” comprises countless possibilities is somewhat daunting.

I’d like something that gets me away from a desk.  Something that involves movement.  Something that gets me dealing directly with people.  Something for which I can dress up a little, maybe.  Something that can present the opportunity for advancement.  Something that doesn’t drain me of all of my mental and physical energy.  And perhaps most importantly (at least for now), something that can’t come home with me once I punch out for the day.

Part of me wants to take this opportunity to scratch some itches and dabble (or maybe even settle) in some areas that interested me before computers decided to monopolise the picture.  I’ve loved trains and trams for as long as I can remember; it would be awesome to get involved there somehow.  I’m booked in for a Medium Rigid licence training course; perhaps I could look into some other facet of the transport industry.

Anything that won’t have me staring at a computer screen for hours at a time will be nice, though.

With almost suspiciously good timing, a real estate agent who is tasked with finding a new tenant for my apartment has asked me to get in touch if I might be interested in becoming a Property Manager.  That role looks like it might fit all of the criteria I’ve listed above.

I wonder what other employment ideas I’m missing right now?

With mental energy left after work, I’ll be in a better position to do something productive outside business hours.  It’d be nice to work on some personal programming projects and release some of my work to the open source community.  I have some ideas for some financial modules I could release on CPAN.

Or, you know, I could reacquaint myself with some friends and family who must certainly feel long forgotten by now after months (and in some cases, years) of neglect.

It’s going to be an interesting few months.  That is pretty much the only guaranteed constant for now.

What should you do when a light fitting in your apartment starts gushing litres of water?

You know, besides race to remove thousands of dollars of electronics from the area, along with your birth certificate and whatever other important documentation you may have on your desk because you’re in the middle of moving house?

Had this happened just an hour later, it would have been right in the middle of my real estate inspection.  Gold.

Had it happened even later, I may not have even been here to save my stuff.  Poor form, apartment; poor form.

We have previously established that my appearance alone (or perhaps the way I walk) tells people that I don’t approve of rape.  What is it about the appearance of my upper body that makes me seem so unlikely to drive under the influence of drugs or alcohol?

Mind you, given that the selection process was clearly more than just random, I’m sure I’d be asking the inverse question if I were pulled over.  Since I go to no effort to look nice for work though, I think I’d be less surprised in that scenario.

Garage door at work closed on me as I was driving through.  It won.

Besides a heap of scratching and a broken antenna, the roof is bent to buggery across the entire width of the car.  It’s probably not the best idea to have electronic circuitry exposed to the elements like that either.

Really not proving to be a great month.

I’ve barely eaten in days.

I’ve barely slept in days.

I’ve seen next to no one in days.

I haven’t gone to work in days.

My apartment remains in a state of devastation.

I face failing one of my uni courses.

The cupboards are full of food that needs to go.

12,029 written words after one of the most difficult weekends of my life, I am still left not knowing what I must believe; what I mustn’t; what I want to and what I don’t want to.

I may think I know what I want, but I don’t know how to achieve it.

My writing gives me a direction, but no direction seems right.

While I heal, I won’t be available.

Besides lunch, I spent the entire weekend (and even Monday off work) shackled to my desk working on an assignment.  I still didn’t manage to complete it before the deadline.  In my time away from uni as a student I’ve forgotten just how much commitment outside classes is needed, and because my last few years of involvement with uni focused on writing assignment questions rather than answering them, my perception of how long an assignment should take to complete has been severely warped.

Here’s a graphical representation of my week before any social additions:

My Google Calendar view for the foreseeable future

So if you realise you’re seeing very little of me or you’re having trouble getting in touch with me, this could explain it.

It seems that avoiding the dentist for over fifteen years (even if only subconsciously) can have its drawbacks.

$595.00 later and I have three fillings, a couple x-rays and a referral to have a couple wisdom teeth pulled.

How a tooth becomes so directionally challenged in the first place defies me.

The dentist also told me to cut back on the sweets and soft drinks.  Naturally (and quite understandably), John found this advice rather hilarious.