Work/Travel/Being a rubbish human

So it’s only day four of having OD back and I’m already being a shitty, inconsistent diarist (is that a word? Diary-writer? Diary-lady? Whatever it is, I’m being shitty at it). I think it’s probably because I feel like I have so much to write that the idea of sitting down and actually getting it all out sounds like too much of a task that my procrastinating self just won’t allow me to do it…BUT here I am, so let’s start writing down them important memories so 80 year old Ashleigh can look back on this and be like, “You need to sort your shit out, 24 year old Ashleigh.”

I’ve worked at the same place for a few years now – I don’t hate it, but I certainly don’t love it either. My reply when somebody asks me if I enjoy my job is usually something along the lines of just, “eh.” But it pays decently, I like most of the people I work with (except the management people above me – fuck them), and it’s pretty chill so I really shouldn’t complain. I’m just restless because I know it’s not a career or anything; I’m really only there to save money for travelling, to be honest.

Speaking of travelling, I’m heading overseas to the UK and continental Europe in the middle of the year so that’s basically what’s getting me through the dull days. It’ll be my third time overseas after I went to Canada in 2013 for study abroad (not sure if I had totally given up writing here by that point) and then the US and back to Canada in 2016 which was the trip of a lifetime – I had the absolute best time on that holiday and a couple of the girls I met on my tour through the US (LA-NYC) are actually who I’m going to Europe with so to say I can’t wait for this next trip is a definite understatement (if I was a little bit more incontinent, I would be literally wetting myself with excitement for it). Everything is basically all booked and I’ve even written up my packing list which, for a trip that’s still another six months away, is pretty bloody keen of me.

Not surprisingly, a lot of my money goes towards these big holidays, hence why I’m still living at home. I have managed to tick off some items from the adult to-do list, though, so I’m not an entirely useless human. I got my licence a few years ago, bought a car last year (which got written off and I had to buy back from the insurance company because of a stupid hale storm that ruined the roof and bonnet but nevertheless, I love her, giant hale stone dents and all), buy my own groceries, make my own doctors appointments (after consulting with Mum and Dr. Google on what they think could possibly be wrong with me, of course), and I pay board to my mum so I’m not completely free-loading off her. I will be moving out next year though, for sure. I need to get my own space and learn how to kill spiders on my own and, y’know, be able to do my own things without constantly being asked, “Where are you going? Who are you going with? When will you be home? Are you taking a jacket?” The idea of living on my own is thrilling but realistically I know I’ll have to have housemates because no young person in this city can afford to rent a place completely on their own. Even the idea of ever owning a place instead of renting just doesn’t seem like it’ll ever be in my reach which sucks; I would love to have a place that’s 100% mine.

OK, next up is the fun one; love life. This should be pretty quick seeing as it is completely non existent at the moment. I’ve dated a few guys but nothing really ever comes of that. There was one guy who I definitely had some strong potential with but then his ex-girlfriend came back from overseas and he thought maybe he’d like to get back with her instead. So I said fuck it, bye, and chooffed off overseas (I say it casually, but at the time I was very upset). Next minute, I’m on a bus somewhere in Canada, scrolling through Facebook and I see he’s in a relationship with not his ex-girlfriend, but a totally new girl instead. At that point, I was having too much fun travelling to give much of a shit but when I got home, he and I started chatting casually again like all was well and he hadn’t ghosted the shit out of two different girls, one of them being me, just six months earlier. Anyways, long story short and several nudie pics later, I ended up sleeping with him WHILE he still had a girlfriend which I spent a lot of time hating myself for because what sort of a dirt bag person sleeps with another girl’s boyfriend? Girl code goes straight down the drain when I got horny, apparently. It only happened once though and despite having told him several times it won’t be happening again, to this day he continues to try and woo me into his bed and, yes, he is still with his poor girlfriend; they’re madly in love according to his sappy Instagram posts but how in love can you really be when he’s constantly trying to bang another girl?

I think that’s enough for now! It does feel good to get all that written down, though, seeing as I don’t really do much journal type stuff anymore. I do have a food diary, but that’s really just about keeping track of what I eat, not the rest of my (entirely un-exhilarating) life.

Until next time,

Ashleigh