When I took my current job I knew, or feared, I would have work-life balance problems. I had been warned. So I have no excuse to whinge, really I don’t.
But MAN do I miss finishing at 5pm. It’s not that the hours are so awfully long or the work is so hard, although every so often it feels that way, but that I am constantly consumed by guilt over not being able to catch up for a cheeky drink after work because, well, I’m still AT work, or being constantly, appallingly late for things because, yes that’s right, I’m still at work.
I also don’t have a right to whinge because as of now I am officially above the average Australian wage. Hurrah. Looks like that damn degree paid off after all. Possibly.
And don’t think I’m going to piss that extra cash away either, dear fellows. It’s no trip to the bookstore for me. I’m thinking about… wait for it, buying a house. Yes, I know, I know. It’s not really ME is it? But I have, I’m sorry to say, fallen a little bit in love with a dear little house in Northbridge. It’s small. It’s run down. It doesn’t ‘technically’ have a toilet and it needs a new bathroom and kitchen immediately but it’s also quite darling and in my favourite suburb in the city. Much like this job I didn’t go hunting for it but it came rapping on the door and I was powerless to resist.
Before I get ahead of myself I must assure you the house is by no means now, I don’t have finance approved and it’s being AUCTIONED in just over a week but still… I don’t know. I have a dream I suppose. A dream that one day I will be home before 7pm to sit on the couch with a glass of wine and watch the news. In my beautiful new house. That is all mine (and Andy’s). And that has a toilet.
UPDATE: The dream is dead. Long live the dream. Faaaawk.