Tefnut's journal

That's it, my last day was last thursday. It was very moving. I've been in a half daze since.
We rehearsed all day at the theatre on sunday. That didn't help at all. I feel cut off from reality. I suppose I just need to find a rhythm (a healthy one, please).

I've kept writing: my manuscript is at 46507 words now. That's a lot, for me. And it's now that I'm getting scared by the scale of the project -- not so much the word count by itself, but by the themes. Fatherhood. Gender fluidity. Homosexuality. That's a effin' lot. Most of the time, thankfully, I don't even see the themes. I just think of the story, which is really what I should focus on. But since I've stopped working, the enormity of the themes is affecting me. Meh.

I'll kick myself in the butt and feel better in a couple of days, hopefully.

I'm in the middle of turning my den into something remotely looking like a flat.
It's... not easy.

It doesn't help that we don't really have furniture. Just warehouse-type shelves. Not pretty.

I have taken that job as a recycling promoter. It turned out it would be a one-year renewable contract. It will be over in two months.

In the course of this year, I've learned the ins and outs of garbage removal. That was interesting, and at times infuriating -- for example, when people think that they can throw whatever they want in the streets, no matter how dangerous it is for the garbage man. Engine oil, anyone?

I've been following trucks, driving for 7 hours at low speed, changing gears every time they stopped to pick up a rubbish bag. In a car too big for me (couldn't see, crashed it three times). With manual gears. First time I really, really wished for an automatic. It killed my knees, my back, and my patience. Good thing I told them I couldn't sit without pain, at the interview. :\

When that task was over, we walked instead. Yes, for the whole seven hours. I didn't mind that, oh no. The two sunstrokes during the heatwaves, on the other hand, I could have done without.

I've worked with the oddest team ever. The clash of personalities definitely kept things fresh. For a change, I was *not* the most immature one. And it's not because I've suddenly grown up. No no.

I've talked with people about recycling. And then, about other things -- because, as I found out, people are lonely, and desperate for a conversation. Any conversation. They told us about the past, about their lives during the war. How worried they are about their children, who don't have a job / are still in school / are so young, but so street-smart already they don't look like kids any more.

Some people just barked at us. To my surprise, I'm not too bad at defusing a crisis. I can also brush the bad experience off quite easily. Looks like I've grown a thicker skin. And I know they, too, are eager for a conversation.

Some people, on the other hand, were sweet. They smiled. They made us a coffee, picked up some fruits growing in their garden. We joked together. One woman told that she was dying, told me her pains and her fears, and then that she was relieved to be able to talk about it to someone who wasn't bullshitting around the subject. I just listened. The experience was humbling.

Overall, an interesting year. :)

Next step: New Zealand, and then England. For good. At last.

The men from the second floor, that is. They drink, smoke and do drugs in the staircase. They're destroying the building, bit by bit. Threatening our peace, our sense of safety.

And yet they're not mean, at least not to me. Polite, sweet. Sad young men, who do drugs. The blond one has lost half of his weight since I last saw him. He barely goes out anymore, and when he does, it's only at night. I hear him yell at some of his friends some nights, when they meet in the street under my windows, or in the hallway.

I worry that one day one of them will do something even more stupid than destroying themselves. Get into a fight, run in the middle of the road, ride their scooter a tad too fast. Yet, when I feel selfish and very tired of them, I hope they'll do just that, and hurt themselves so bad I won't ever hear of them anymore.

But then I look at them: two little boys, lost, and more self-destructive than I've ever been; and I can't bring myself to hate them.


Sometimes I just wish I weren't able to see them.

Instead of biking alone as usual, I arranged to walk the dog with my parents tonight in the forest. It was nice. We saw :
- lots and lots and lots of toads ; they are not even 1 cm long yet ;
- a red robin ;
- a dead snake ;
- a friend's wife ;
- lots and lots and lots of bugs, most of them nice and lovely, some not (mosquitoes) ;
- a big fish.

I also managed to send a motivation letter to a public library this afternoon. Go me ! Tomorrow I'll do some more job-hunting. And writing.

IT HURTS!!!

I'm on sick leave. Well, I'm gonna be from this afternoon on. And then I'll probably be fired, because my boss is mad at me that I got hurt. Like it was my fault.

Besides I can barely think, let alone type long texts. It's not good for my fanfic. It's not good for my mood. It's. Not. Good.

I'm still having a hard time tying up all the sides of my life together. Working, writing, playing music, sorting out the papers for the flat, moving my junk around. Browsing the net comes last. My eyes are thankful, but I miss the surf.

Otherwise, the story I'm writing that was supposed to be slash is becoming pairing-free. Because the story dictates it. There might be some UST on Jack's side, though I'm not sure.
I'm exploring Sam. I'm having a great time at it. It's the first time I manage to have fun with this character. I also have a new set of original characters to play with. A couple of them have personalities I haven't written before, so they allow me to enlarge my repertory of OCs. Gotta love them guys. The more flawed and fucked up, the better.

What's good with the flu is when you start recovering. I feel so great in comparison of the last few days! My energy is back. I've been writing, drawing, playing guitar, will do the laundry (shall do the laundry some day), and now I'm about to write again.

My desire to play guitar is fully back now, after a long period of time where I really didn't care much about it anymore. I learned Bookends yesterday, and today I practiced this one plus the couple of other songs I've been learning recently. I've also started to revise the Orientale by Granados, my favourite partition so far.

The fact I actually get to play in front of people does help. I'm definitely not someone who likes to stay in the shadows. I like to create/express myself, but not if nobody's gonna read it, see it, or hear it. The excitement of playing music in public, in particular, is too good to pass.

Thus said, back to the jungle of my fic, now!

Still running a fever. I'm about to go to work anyway. It's gonna be a very interesting day...

Thank you for the nice messages! It warmed me up (and boy did I need that!)

---

Update on my day at work:
It went extremely well. The morning went lazily. I did a bit of preparation work for the February school holidays while chatting with a colleague.

Then we helped the kids prepare pancakes for lunch time. All very lazy and nice, too. And I'm the spatula queen, which surprises me because I and kitchens don't usually cohabit very well.

More laziness in the afternoon (I suppose the fever is for something into it); more easy preps, more chat. After all, I'm still learning to know my colleagues.

Finally in the evening there were enough grown-ups around that I didn't need to be with the kids whom we keep after school. Instead I prepared a big track game with another colleague, an easy-going guy who is very nice to work with. This part wasn't lazy: I had taken my medication just before.

I'm going to take it easy-lazily tomorrow and only work in the afternoon, to finish the game. Then I'll just have to make sure that I'm healthy for next week. I'm going to coach the kids into practicing sports of all sorts: roller skates, athletism, yoga, swimming... :-D It's gonna be cooooool! (And not lazy, no no.)

Second day at work -- only the morning, this time. We planned the activities for the next school holidays. It was interesting and lively.

Then in the afternoon I went to the medical visit in the army. I had an ECG (fine) and an audition test. This one didn't go so well, but the nurse told me it wasn't surprising, considering that I'm playing in a band. Musicians are deaf, that's a fact of life. I'm the next Beethoven, actually.
So I'm good to go, I just need to pay a visit to the dentist before the training starts.

It's been snowing all day, and as I've done a fair bit of walking from the barracks to the train station, I was frozen when I finally arrived at home.

Then in the evening I had a rehearsal with the band-that-caused-my-surdity (I blame the violinist! :-p ). Solange asked me if I wanted to be her witness for her wedding. I'm *so* happy she asked me. I love her, and I couldn't wish anything better than taking an active part to her big day.

I've been writing less than 200 words of my fanfic tonight, but I suppose it's not too bad given the change of rhythm I'm going through.