Sheridan’s Blog

Today I went to the gym. The rest has been a waste of time. I decided I would go to uni and pick up some books (to read from), and do a bit of study. I figure this might make me less stressed during the week, resulting in me actually sleeping at night instead of just shutting my eyes and breathing deeply. The plan was well thought out and the intentions were good.
Unfortunattely, uni seems to be located rather close to Chadstone Shopping centre. Since they’ve had a whole new renovation scenario going on there, I thought it rude to not drop by and have a look. So look I did, after finding that the road into the shopping centre (yes it has it’s own road/s) has been widened to allow more cars into the centre than to the freeway. Ace.
Now, most people know that I rarely go anywhere (as in out) since I already have a boyfriend and I don’t really see the point in going out dancing/etc if not to pick up. And pick up I most likely would, so I don’t go. I do like the dancing part, but it always gets really messy and it’s not a look I’m going for. Occasionally we’ll go see a live band or other similar activity, but even then I think boyfriend (perhaps men in general) are made uncomfortable when I (or any woman) dresses a bit outlandishly. So shopping isn’t really my thing. I do love it, but I have nowhere to go to wear the cool clothing and shoes I already have. Thank goodness, when my dancing gets back up to speed I can splash out on many more outfits/legwarmers/dance shoes/sequins that I don’t need.
So I went into the flagship Sportsgirl store. Ruby Rose was in there doing whatever it is that she does (who knows?), as were a bunch of young girls with way too much makeup on for the daytime. The thing that struck me the most was not the size of the store, or the pseudo-celebrity or even the goods for sale – it was the music. It was like I was inside the speaker. Does it have to be SO LOUD?!?! I couldn’t even shop straight, I forgot my size and I got confused over what is a shirt and what is a dress or what is a shirt that can be worn as a dress…I had to leave. LOn my way out I smiled bemusingly at the shop assistant as she inflicted permanent vocal damage upon herself trying to ask the customer for money. It was like being in a club with a date and screaming ‘Do you want a drink?’ three times before they eventually understand you. I could tell she was seconds away from going into a mime or charade. And the madness did not end there. Maybe it was because the new mall at the shopping centre was opening. Maybe shopping has evolved since I last did it (obviously I need to do more). Outside the general stores I normally go into were semi-naked men. Just standing there, looking good and holding catalogues. I felt unable to enter any of these stores. Eventually, I found one with no naked people out the front and went in. This turned out to be a mistake. Not only was it loud, there was a DJ in the store. A DJ. Why? It’s 11.17am on a Saturday morning. And he wasn’t even a proper DJ. He looked about 9. (as in years old, not on a scale of 9 out of 10 for looks or anything). I thought I might commit an act of violence so I hurriedly left. Good thing, too, since I feel it was only a matter of time before my ears began to bleed.
So what is it? What has changed in the few brief moments I have not been shopping? Is it the GFC that is causing the shops to go crazy and install DJ’s and male models to entice you in with goodie bags (I bet some of them had goodie bags…) It’s simply not necessary. Had I been able to find a store with no music and shop assistants who were dressed and not under the illusion that they were in a club, I’m sure I would have laid down my cash. But as luck would have it, I left the shopping centre disenchanted and with no shoes.

Clearly the one-post-a-day thing is not working out for me. It was going well until uni started back and then it fell to the bottom of the priority line, along with general health and fitness and most recreational activities.
Some recreational activities that have been occurring involve our new bikes. The old bike was taken to a nice farm in the ‘country’ to live out it’s final days. The new bike goes like a rocket (even with me on it) and I have successfully shaved about 20 minutes off the ride time to work. Plus I look way cooler. And it is nice to have more than 3 gears. Gears that don’t sound like a boat hitting rocks when you shift. Loving it. Next to buy some appropriate footwear and make the appropriate bike adjustments so the bike and I can become one. Don’t think I’ll do this before Around the Bay since I have to work the day after and will need the use of my legs to do so. Riding amongst a group of non-riders is not the place to not be able to get your feet clear. And I can barely disembark safely as it is (why do we have to be so high off the ground?)

Next semester, apart from not taking this many subjects and subjecting myself to the act of trechery that is full-time work and full-time uni, I shall take one subject only and re-introduce myself to the piano and the social dance class and maybe even the singing lesson. I know a few good teachers…

In more inane news I got off at a station called Glenbervie tonight, instead of the usual station (the one before Glenbervie I imagine, but I wouldn’t swear on a bible). I’ve been a bit out of it all week, kind of like the flu is trying to get in but my body is resisting. I could go on about how ace my immune system is. If I had any energy, that is. Whilst I’m not getting sick, I’m far from ‘well’, as noticed by my stunned colleagues when I failed to eat lunch. Which never happens. In my delirious state I seem to be attracting all kinds of people who are up for a brief chat. It’s the strangest occurrence. And I can’t tell if this is normal or if I am just really tired so I notice more when other people require some input from. Just last night I was trying to shop (failed, though), and the shop assistant went well beyond the usual ‘Hi, blah blah blah’, and just continued into a story about how her boyfriend rode his bike home from work and got mugged and had his bike stolen. How do you respond to that? What did she want me to say? ‘That’s no good – do you have this in a 10?’
Then there was the lady on the train yesterday morning. I was just standing there, staring at my shoes, trying not to cry from pure exhaustion when a lady with a large pram (baby enclosed) and a small girl squeezed in. Although the lady didn’t look particularly out of control or frenzied, it was obvious that it was difficult for her to manouvre the pram and mind the toddler in a packed-out train with nothing to grasp onto. At each stop she was unable to move out of the way and was forced to constantly apologise to busy and important commuters as they rushed by to get to work. The small child looked positively terrified by the sheer amount of people passing by. I felt quite bad but I’m not sure why and there was nothing I could do. Eventually my station (or one very similar to it) rolled along and she got out in front of me, and then turned to me and asked me where the exit for the Eye and Ear Hospital was. It was as if the universe had interpreted my desire to be of assistance and thrown me a bone! And yes – I walk right in front of the Eye and Ear Hospital on my way to work, hence I could practically escort her to the door if necessary. However, since I don’t even know where the lift is at the station, nor where it goes to (apart from up, obviously), I was very little help. But we did then proceed to have a little chat about stations, mainly, all the time with me trying to be of at least some small speck of help.
And finally, the guy in the lift in my apartment building this morning. I go in lifts a lot, and normal protocol is eyes ahead, no talking, unless you’re with a group of people you know. Well, this guy had not received the protocol. I was in gym clothing and had not showered (yet), so birds may well have been nesting in my hair. Along with mushrooms. But no worries. This guy enters in his very nice suit, does this massive smile and says hello and enquires about my health and general disposition. He appraises me in an acceptable fashion and then asks which gym I’m going to. Turns out he goes to the same place and is very keen to have a chat about it, launching into a conversation that was clearly not intended to be finished in the confines of the elevator. But as we get out, I wind it up and slow my walk so he continues ahead in front of me (making me late, but what can you do?)
So all in all, it’s been a strange week, for most of which I have been delusional from:

*lack of sleep from my stupid bum and it’s muscular issues (why can’t it be my leg or something?);
*worrying that I won’t know what to say to the next stranger that strikes up a convo;
*obsessing about how I might pass any subjects this semester (and generally what I’m doing at uni and why).

Until next week (or the one after) xxx