Milchfrömmler

It's a sad state of affairs blogging with Home and Away in the background.

My housemate's out at the moment, therefore the TV has become the surrogate housemate.

It won't be so sad in half an hour when Border Security's on.

I wish I could pull out some funny witticisms. Unfortunately I pulled them all out when I rewrote my profile for work last week. Lame, I know. Changing my profile and revelling in the glory of talking about myself in the third person for all the online world to see.

Lame. Totally lame.

But at 4.30pm last Thursday afternoon I was hopelessly bored. It seemed like a good enough thing to do.

I got to talk about myself (in the first person) today. Employer funded psych sessions are fun like that. It's funny, but it's the first time ever that I've been completely honest. It's as if being an anonymous person in a rather anonymous location dealing with problems that are thousands of kilometres away has changed everything.

It's strange - you would think that being so far away from your problems would make them easier to deal with.

It's the opposite. Being so far away merely delays the inevitable. It's like knowing that you're going to crash but you can't quite brace yourself for the impact.

My present is passable. Boring, dull, cold, yet passable. My past or my 'home' (someone remind me what exactly home means) isn't much to look forward to - conflicts, invisibility. Blergh.

My future is there. Just sitting. A void.

Something's gotta give.