study – The Honest Woman's Guide to Growing Up.

Am I a Grown Up Yet?

Well it has been nearly two months since I submitted my thesis and I am still awaiting my results, confirmation that all of my self-doubt was a complete waste of energy. While I wait, a little less patiently as the days pass, I continue to wonder ‘what will I be when I grow up’. This seems to be even more pressing now that I have finished my study (for now anyway) as I now really need to think about putting my knowledge into something that provides an income. The hangover of finishing my thesis has well and truly gone away, although it lasted several weeks, and my industriousness around our property has become such a part of the daily routine that the wilderness has become slightly tamer than it was a couple of months ago. But that same question of ‘what will I be when I grow up’ has now been joined by ‘what does it actually mean to be ‘grown up?’. I mean Greta Thunberg has just told a whole lot of world leaders that they need to grow up. So if they haven’t managed it yet, what chance have I?

I thought that maybe I had discovered what it meant to be a ‘grown up’ when last week I was summoned to do jury service. I went along praying that my name wouldn’t get called out, not because it would impact on my job seeking activities or outside work, but because I am a Libra. And if I find it difficult to decide what to have at a restaurant then what chance do I have at deciding if someone is guilty or not? Well, for all of my praying to all and sundry, I got picked to serve on a jury. The case was reasonably minor, but it was always going to impact on somebody when we came to our conclusion of guilty or not guilty. I sat there, looking at the people in the court room. The judge, I dare say she feels like a grown up, I mean you would wouldn’t you with such an important job. Likewise for the lawyers, do they feel grown up? I thought that maybe, I felt a bit grown up sitting up there in the jury seats, trying to look composed and very important (God knows if I actually looked it). And as we deliberated, deciding the fate of some stranger, I wondered if I was actually cut out for this grown up stuff. What made me responsible enough to be part of a decision which could change someone’s life forever?

So now, my jury service done and dusted and with no prospect of being called up for a couple of years, I am back to the job hunting. I vowed that I wouldn’t take a job that had nothing to do with what I love doing-writing, but as I have discovered, this is not such an easy feat. Most jobs which I have looked at tend to be in other cities from my own, or else that old chestnut-past experience in my preferred job niche is required. Writing has always been a hobby for me, so my experience is limited to my study, one or two articles, creative writing, and of course this blog. My dreams of finally ‘growing up’ seem stuck at the first hurdle, but I know that it is early days, patience is the key. However, my 48th birthday is looming fast and it is hard not to feel a bit panicky when it comes to age and employment-especially when you are competing for jobs with people half your age. I will keep up my job hunting, and in the meantime I will get on with clearing the area burnt by the hubby earlier on in the year, maybe singing U2’s ‘I still haven’t found what I’m looking for’ while I’m at it!

Everyone Has a Purpose.

I handed my thesis in a week ago. Forty thousands words of blood, sweat and tears. The feeling of relief which I thought I would feel took awhile to arrive, possibly due to the fact that I was scrabbling to edit it and format it in time. It wasn’t until 8pm on the day that it was due to be submitted that I finally pressed the submit button, and sat down for a very large whiskey. I was so knackered, my eyes were stinging from the hours of staring at a screen, and my brain felt like it was going to explode from all of the scrutiny involved in editing. I must say that there were days in the last month when I just wanted to chuck it all in and have nothing more to do with it. But I persevered and managed to hand in something-hopefully it is good enough, only time will tell.

**One of the most enjoyable and deserved whiskeys I have ever had!**

The next day was strange. I had always thought I would feel euphoric from being finished, and I certainly felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders, but I also felt something else. The next morning after everyone had left for work and school and I had the place to myself, I just kind of wandered around the house, not knowing what to do. I mean there is plenty to be done, especially outside around the property, but I was so used to turning on the laptop and staring at it for most of the day that I just didn’t know how to reset my routine. And then there was the feeling that I no longer had a purpose in life. I had lived and breathed my thesis for the past thirteen months, everything else had been put to the side (apart from some daily exercise) in the pursuit of academic achievement. I missed social events and family occasions because it totally consumed me, every hour of my day was taken up by research and writing. And I was lucky, I finished work halfway through my thesis, I don’t know how anyone can work and do their thesis at the same time; my brain can only deal with one major thing at a time. I was really glad when that first day was over, it was like having a hangover; the night before was a shit load of fun but the consequences made it seem like it wasn’t worth it.

Luckily, since then I have managed to get into a bit of rhythm in regard to my day’s activities, and I feel a little more like I do have a purpose. My daughter thinks its great that I am no longer studying because there is loads of baking and home cooking in the house-I am sure the novelty of baking will wear off soon, and the youngest son thinks its great that I will have more time to spend with him-especially fishing! I now have the fun part of trying to decide where to from here-the PhD is out of the question for now, my family would kill me if I even contemplated it at the moment. I am once again at a crossroads, trying to figure out what now, what do I want to do when I grow up? I have some good ideas but I just need to work out if they are feasible, and if they will help pay the bills. And I have to work out how to go about executing them. I am back to the same old conundrum of what is out there in the universe for me, what is my purpose, and why the heck haven’t I worked this out before now? And I have to keep pushing away the self-doubt which plagues me a great deal of the time.

I know that it is early days, it is only a week and a half since I finished my study, and I am starting to learn the art of patience. I am revelling in the fact that I can read a book for the fun of it, not to hunt for facts for my thesis but just because it is a mindless piece of literature which is enjoyable to read. I can go places, like watching the youngest son play rugby, without the nagging feeling that I should be home writing and researching. Or to an exercise class or yoga session (new interest-will keep that for another blog) without feeling guilty about taking precious time from my study. I can get back in my neglected garden and bring it back to life, and as for my oven -well that will get a long overdue clean next week.

I worried on that first post-study day that I would have no purpose in my life. But I forgot that I have taken on a volunteer role at the local surf lifesaving club, and I forgot that I want to try and organise some rugby posts for my son’s school. I also forgot that I have purpose with my three children, each one with their own needs (even the teenage son who seems so independent). And my husband, I will have time to go and play a game of golf with him -nah, only kidding about the golf, that really is a bridge too far! But some quality time just going for a run with him has been nice. I have purpose, not what I had when I was studying but something different and just as important. I will keep baking and trying my hardest to be a domestic goddess. And when the time is right, I will find where the next part of my journey takes me, there is no rush after all.

**Looks like a mouse has been nibbling at one of my culinary creations!**

When “Grand” and “Under Control” isn’t really Grand and Under Control

Life as they say, is a roller coaster, or maybe it’s a box of chocolates? Either way you really don’t know what it is going to throw at you at any time. Well, life has proven to be a bit crazy for me in the past few years, and every time when I think that everything is ticking along nicely, even a bit boringly then something comes along to give me a kick in the arse to remind me that yes this is life and sleepwalking through it will ultimately see me getting rudely awakened by some random nightmare. There’s been a few in the past couple of months, some minor and some not so, but I won’t get into those right now-time and place and all that. Today, I was happily sleepwalking, reading some rather in-depth journals for my looming thesis (it’s due in six weeks, hence the lack of blogging lately), I was in the zone and felt like I was in charge. Usually it feels like the thesis is in charge so this was a pretty good feeling, and a pretty rare one too. Anyway, the husband comes home from taking our youngest to his rugby game and he is all action-mowing lawns, collecting hay, and generally being quite useful. Uh oh, it all sounds too good to be true, my study is going well, the jobs are getting done, the sun is shining, the husband is being useful-get the picture? Yep, well it really was too good to be true, I knew it wouldn’t last forever-call me a pessimist but 47 years on this earth has taught me a thing or two, like when things are going well, I mean really well , then the universe dictates that there needs to be a bit of balance so it goes about fucking things up -just to liven things up a bit and wake you out of your slumber! Sorry, excuse my language-but that is the best way to describe how my perfect day was ruined-it was fucked up, the universe dictated it! Anyway, I digress, you are wondering what the heck I am talking about, so far I have told you nothing so let me get to the point.

The husband decided to tidy up the property, which was great-until he discovered the matches… yep those little wooden things with the red tips, they look harmless but in the wrong hands can be lethal!!!!! Anyway, I must remind you if I have not said it already, that we live in a conservation area where the wildlife thrives, kiwi and ruru call at night and many species which have been on the brink of extinction have been given the chance of a second life. It really is paradise, but today it came close to being consigned to the history books thanks to the husband. Now before I go any further, perhaps play the Prodigy song ‘Firestarter’ as background music, it really helps to set the scene. So the husband’s idea of “tidying up” involved lighting a fire to burn the hay which he had collected up. He explained to me his plans, and although I suggested it may not be such a good idea, he proceeded to light the fire- “sure, it will be grand” he said. Well, grand it was not. After an extremely dry summer and autumn, the fire took off, and before I could say “are you sure?”, the bushes were on fire and the fire was spreading fast. Yet he still was telling me it was “grand”, that it was “under control”. I began to doubt this when random people, some strangers, started arriving to help with the “grand” job that was “under control” (thank you to all those wonderful people and neighbours). Now, I must say that my blood pressure was feeling like it was going through the roof and I was seriously doubting that it was “grand” and “under control”. It was when I could see the flames shooting up a tree and I could hear it cracking and popping that I decided that no it was not “grand” or “under control”, and that is when I called the local fire service.

The fire service came and put the fire out and finally it was “grand” and “under control”. The local volunteer fire service that is, the fire service with all the volunteers who are locals who live in our small community. People who know us on a first name basis-yep you can imagine the embarrassment! I will admit that I was quick to let them know that my husband was in sole charge of the “grand” and “under control” fire-he can have the notoriety of nearly burning down the entire peninsular all to himself! A couple of dozen beers dropped off at the fire station will hopefully show them how grateful we are for their help, and I promised them that the husband will never light a fire ever again!!! As for me, I am heading back to the thesis-hopefully life will return to a moderate sleepwalk for a bit longer!

Just one last thing before I become studious again, a big thank you to our local volunteers, they do so much for our communities and probably don’t get the recognition they deserve. They rock!