sarah bean
22-10-2009, 01:07 PM
I just blogged this, so I thought I'd share here too coz i'm in such a good mood lol. Some of the references won't make sense for non bloggy readery people but mostly it should ;)
Ok, this is getting RIDICULOUS.
Not that I’m complaining, but still. It’s getting… quite …strange.
You know how when you’re used to being the giver? Or at least on an equal give/take, swings and roundabouts kind of groove? And then there comes a time where suddenly everything is turned on it’s head and boom, you’re the needy one, repeatedly finding yourself at the mercy of the kindness of friends and strangers?
Well that’s been me for the last three months (omg, I had to count on my fingers soooo many times and then go look in my diary in order to convince myself that I’ve only been here three months!! wtf!? It feels like forever – in a good way.) and the way that people have just totally given and given and given – time, friendship, furniture, stuff, help – it’s been crazy.
It just keeps on blowing me away how just when I need something? There it is. I’m not saying that it hasn’t been hard and that we haven’t been in sticky situations plenty of times and making do and y’know, not been entirely in any kind of comfort zone for quite some time, but still. I seem to be repeatedly jumping on here and saying, “omg! guess what! the universe totally provided today!”
Well guess what?
We finally bought us an australian car!!! Woot! with aircon! and suspension! and no bungy holding the bumper on! (though the borrowed heap of crap car was still another example of being the receiver and things totally being given when they were needed and grateful grateful grateful still…) but ANYWAY we got our own car four days ago and then yesterday the electric window stopped working. Stuck wide open. Problem.
So I emailed the car seller and was told to ring the warranty person so I got brave and rung the warranty person and was told to ring the car seller. So I re-emailed the car seller and was told to ring the warranty person. So I rung the warranty person. And was told to take it in this morning.
So I spent an hour or two trying to figure out public transport to get the car dropped off at 7.30am, the kids dropped to their respective recepticles, and me to work. And then my brother rang from NZ and said “duh, mechanics drop you home after you take your car in to them”.
So this morning at 7am I put my Very Brave Big Girls Panties on and rang the garage to ask if they could drop me back home. Uh, no.
So resume plan A, dropped H3 off at an ungodly hour (which I did not feel guilty about because the boys were up at 5.30am having a party due to one of them wetting the bed and deciding to celebrate with iceblocks! for everyone! happy thursday and goodmorning to you!), drove to the garage, left car there, walked just down the road to train station.
http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2521/4033627012_de05e89e5a.jpg (http://www.flickr.com/photos/37284036@N00/4033627012/)
Caught train with B5 and his freecycle! ha! bicycle.
http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2542/4033626928_2b1dae0cda_o.jpg (http://www.flickr.com/photos/37284036@N00/4033626928/)
1.4km to school – he biked I walked. Sweet.
http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2421/4032873783_314953481f.jpg (http://www.flickr.com/photos/37284036@N00/4032873783/)
2.5km to bustop, I walked verrrry quickly. Missed my bus by 4 minutes. An hour until the next one. Curse working in industrial area where public transport to/from kinda sucks.
Push buttons on phone and conclude that it will be a further 5.9km to walk home. Decide that between walking for an hour or sitting waiting for an hour, walking is the preferred option.
5.9km to home, commence walking.
Start to reconsider the wisdom of being in a skirts and dresses groove at the moment instead of wearing shorts – or alternatively, wish for airbrushedly thin thighs that do not rub.
Have by this time walked approximately forty seconds when rude person in stationwagon yells “OI” at me. Wonder what the hell their problem is. Wonder if my skirt is hitched in the back of my knickers. Realise they have stopped in the middle of the street. Peer at them belligerently.
It is a mum from B5’s school, the same mum that I fed him iceblocks and sat in the school playground for 20 minutes the other day waiting for me to collect him. The dishcloth mum. Asking me what the hell I’m doing walking in this heat. She normally walks her kid to school but today is driving because she locked herself out of the house and just had to go get keys cut.
So she gives me a ride home. To my door.
And I shake my head at this how’d I end up on the receiving end of so much persistently good karma thing.
It surely is… well I don’t rightly know. Humbling. Bizarre. Freakish. Comforting. Bemusing. Cosmically Kismet. Fricken awesome.
Ok, this is getting RIDICULOUS.
Not that I’m complaining, but still. It’s getting… quite …strange.
You know how when you’re used to being the giver? Or at least on an equal give/take, swings and roundabouts kind of groove? And then there comes a time where suddenly everything is turned on it’s head and boom, you’re the needy one, repeatedly finding yourself at the mercy of the kindness of friends and strangers?
Well that’s been me for the last three months (omg, I had to count on my fingers soooo many times and then go look in my diary in order to convince myself that I’ve only been here three months!! wtf!? It feels like forever – in a good way.) and the way that people have just totally given and given and given – time, friendship, furniture, stuff, help – it’s been crazy.
It just keeps on blowing me away how just when I need something? There it is. I’m not saying that it hasn’t been hard and that we haven’t been in sticky situations plenty of times and making do and y’know, not been entirely in any kind of comfort zone for quite some time, but still. I seem to be repeatedly jumping on here and saying, “omg! guess what! the universe totally provided today!”
Well guess what?
We finally bought us an australian car!!! Woot! with aircon! and suspension! and no bungy holding the bumper on! (though the borrowed heap of crap car was still another example of being the receiver and things totally being given when they were needed and grateful grateful grateful still…) but ANYWAY we got our own car four days ago and then yesterday the electric window stopped working. Stuck wide open. Problem.
So I emailed the car seller and was told to ring the warranty person so I got brave and rung the warranty person and was told to ring the car seller. So I re-emailed the car seller and was told to ring the warranty person. So I rung the warranty person. And was told to take it in this morning.
So I spent an hour or two trying to figure out public transport to get the car dropped off at 7.30am, the kids dropped to their respective recepticles, and me to work. And then my brother rang from NZ and said “duh, mechanics drop you home after you take your car in to them”.
So this morning at 7am I put my Very Brave Big Girls Panties on and rang the garage to ask if they could drop me back home. Uh, no.
So resume plan A, dropped H3 off at an ungodly hour (which I did not feel guilty about because the boys were up at 5.30am having a party due to one of them wetting the bed and deciding to celebrate with iceblocks! for everyone! happy thursday and goodmorning to you!), drove to the garage, left car there, walked just down the road to train station.
http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2521/4033627012_de05e89e5a.jpg (http://www.flickr.com/photos/37284036@N00/4033627012/)
Caught train with B5 and his freecycle! ha! bicycle.
http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2542/4033626928_2b1dae0cda_o.jpg (http://www.flickr.com/photos/37284036@N00/4033626928/)
1.4km to school – he biked I walked. Sweet.
http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2421/4032873783_314953481f.jpg (http://www.flickr.com/photos/37284036@N00/4032873783/)
2.5km to bustop, I walked verrrry quickly. Missed my bus by 4 minutes. An hour until the next one. Curse working in industrial area where public transport to/from kinda sucks.
Push buttons on phone and conclude that it will be a further 5.9km to walk home. Decide that between walking for an hour or sitting waiting for an hour, walking is the preferred option.
5.9km to home, commence walking.
Start to reconsider the wisdom of being in a skirts and dresses groove at the moment instead of wearing shorts – or alternatively, wish for airbrushedly thin thighs that do not rub.
Have by this time walked approximately forty seconds when rude person in stationwagon yells “OI” at me. Wonder what the hell their problem is. Wonder if my skirt is hitched in the back of my knickers. Realise they have stopped in the middle of the street. Peer at them belligerently.
It is a mum from B5’s school, the same mum that I fed him iceblocks and sat in the school playground for 20 minutes the other day waiting for me to collect him. The dishcloth mum. Asking me what the hell I’m doing walking in this heat. She normally walks her kid to school but today is driving because she locked herself out of the house and just had to go get keys cut.
So she gives me a ride home. To my door.
And I shake my head at this how’d I end up on the receiving end of so much persistently good karma thing.
It surely is… well I don’t rightly know. Humbling. Bizarre. Freakish. Comforting. Bemusing. Cosmically Kismet. Fricken awesome.