Writer’s cave

I am sitting outside the entrance of Organ cave as I write. There are wasps buzzing around me, and I can’t get any peace. No shelter from the hot sun either. I’m baking and regretting my earlier decision not to follow my friends inside the cave.

A lot has happened since I last wrote, which was about a week ago.

In that week, I’ve found a freelance job that pays me twice as much as what my current one does!

I’m still keeping my daytime job for now, while I get used to freelancing.

I feel like I’m one step towards my dream life. A life where my time is my own, where I can be anywhere I want to be without being restricted by my job. A life where I have the time to write and make a living all at once.

Right now, I feel a nice cool breeze lifting the air, which makes writing a bit more enjoyable. The wasps are still circling me though, probably telling me to get off their territory. I must be underneath a wasp tree, I hear a swarm of wasps nearby.

It’s the long weekend over here, which means I get a three day break. I’m travelling up North with friends and trying to fit in a bit of freelance work.

This trip is also an opportunity to test out what it’s like to travel and work at the same time. If it’s manageable, I’ll take myself across Europe and go on a long vacation.

I’ve been writing for an hour already?

My friends are back. I hear their voices. I have never been so glad to hear their familiar voices, and to get away from these angry wasps.

Until next time.

Post-traumatic work disorder

First day back at work and I’ve already got post-traumatic work disorder. Can anybody relate?

Today. YES. Today I went back to work.

I’m still wearing the shades I wore to my Tree Adventure escapade. My abs are still raw from climbing 14 meters above ground. I still look red frolicking under the sun, and despite all that, I yanked myself out of bed today and closed the door to my faraway holiday.

After a few years of work, I’ve gotten so traumatised from waking up early in the morning, stressing out about traffic, trying to find a carpark, getting my windows smashed, and sitting at a desk for eight hours straight.

That’s my montage for the week, the month, the year.

Only the newbies just starting out get excited about the money, the office culture, the perks, and the title of having a job, while I just wanna sleep.

I used to be a newbie, but now I’m an oldie.

Gone are the days when I used to go running at 5pm. Poof! Gone are the late nights and easy early mornings. Poof! Poof! Poof!

So I’m protesting office culture.

I’m protesting the 40 hour work week that Henry Ford created, and I say we have a four hour work week.

Bring back the golden era of work-life balance that existed before I was born.

But what have I got to accomplish from all of this misery and complaining?

Absolutely nothing at all. So head down I go, taking my blues with me and turning it into something productive: novel writing.

One positive thing has come out of this day:

Facebook predicted that I would finally find my dream job this year.

I pray to the stars to send me the energy I so desperately need, so that I can work hard and become the author I dream to be.

I have high hopes for this Facebook prediction. It predicted that my friend would win lotto, and he did.

What are the chances?

The gutsy girl

Because I’m young, stupid and naive, I thought it would be a no-brainer to follow in the footsteps of some leading ladies and heroines in this book:

The Gutsy girl: Escapades for your life of Epic Adventure

unnamed

By saying YES to all the roadtrips I got invited to this Summer, I definitely came out scathed with memories.

gutsygirl3.jpg

Road trip 1: Tongariro Crossing (Or more like the spilling out of guts)

So here’s what happened:

I was supposed to go on an epic 8 hour hike with my group of girls across the Tongariro Crossing but as soon as we arrived at the backpackers motel I had a severe case of the runs which lasted the entire day and night and the morning after. So I was a no show, and ended up lying in bed the whole day.

I did leave my room once to grab a glass of water and ended up being treated to a few hours of humourous conversations with a cast of international backpackers and a wonderful Christmas Eve dinner with roast chicken, ham, potato gravy… everything. And, to top it off, I made 4 new, amazing friends.

images (1)

Roadtrip 2: Cathedral Cove (The drowning incident) 

I must have thought that I was Wonder woman because when the waves were crashing down against the rocks, I recklessly abandoned any notion of my mortality and headed further out to sea and well, got stuck in the waves.

It was the loneliest and scariest moment of my life trying to stay afloat while the waves continuously crashed down over my head. All I could think of to the waves was: ‘Stop! give me a break so I can swim to shore.’ But it was just too strong and I felt so small against this big ocean.

My moment of relief came when someone swimming in the ocean saw me and dragged me in to safety.

But just so that I would get over my trauma, I went right back out to the ocean and had some cautious fun splashing about in the shallower areas.

How gutsy was that?

images (3).jpeg

To sum it all up

I had some good gutsy and bad gutsy moments, and moments where everything literally spilled out from my guts. Splendid!

Since summer’s almost over, and I’m trying to squeeze every little bit of fun out of the sunshiny weather, I think it’s time to consult my gutsy girls book to see what’s next on the adventure agenda!