Compostable Kate

Obviously, unemployment equals a lack of money, and since I stopped working/volunteering at my last job (I was only paid for 2 and a half out of the 3 years I worked there) last November, money has become increasingly scarce (while I volunteered, the organisation paid my petrol and contributed to my internet and phone costs). Being really, really skint isn't fun, but that isn't the real reason I hate being unemployed. In fact, there are several reasons why I hate being unemployed. One reason is that I'm not used to it. I have been working since my teens, and have only been unemployed three times. Once when I quit college, after having left a great job to get my university entrance qualification. It was only briefly, as I found some casual work, and returned to college the next year, doing a different course. Then I was unemployed when I returned to Australia after graduating, but that only lasted a few weeks also (and how I ended up working as a telemarketer of all thing...

The neighbours a couple of doors down have had a huge van parked in their driveway - and across the footpath - for the past few weeks. The only way around it is to go onto the road at the driveway before it, and then go along the road to the corner, and get up on the kerb ramp there. It's a busy road, so it's pretty dangerous. I've been taking Dexter for his walks in the other direction, to avoid it. Adding to this, they've been chucking out piles off stuff onto the kerb, which seems to have blocked access for walking people, too. However, the council has done a kerb-side pick-up recently, so at least that has been cleared. There's no reason why the van should be parked like that, as there is a reasonable amount of on-road parking around, and usually plenty in that part of the street. I've been meaning to take photos of it and send it to the council, so the owners can be asked to move it (I would knock on their door and ask them, but the massive van blocks ...

I had a rough night, tossing and turning - partly my fault for forgetting to take my pain meds yesterday - and Freddy literally walking all over me in order to get breakfast at 3am. I had to lock him in the bedroom to stop him from wrecking my desk (again), and he was mercifully quiet until 5am, when I got up briefly to feed him. The jackhammering started at 7am, somewhere very, very close, and was the only thing that stopped me from turning off my alarm and trying to go back to sleep. I did drag myself out of bed, tired, stiff and sore, complaining to Dexter and Fred all the while. While eating breakfast, I did consider skipping Tafe today, as I was feeling so rough, but I felt it was a bad idea to starting skiving off, especially as it's only Week 3 of the course. I left the house late, and was annoyed to find that the jackhammering had resulted in large parts of the path to the car park being demolished (yay for getting it fixed, but just not today), and I had to do a loop ...