Day 2 21.07.16
So far, so good. Spent the day weeding, feeding animals, driving tractors (cheers to Daaaaag), moving sheep and enjoying the view.
Finding it difficult to be doing less. We work for 7 hours a day, then not much. Soon I will get used to this. Right now I feel a bit lost, too used to working fourteen hour days, and only having time for sleep and personal hygiene around the sides. I hope this will detox my soul a bit.
I forgot a fucking plug adaptor……majorly stupid. So on Saturday I will cycle to Stavanger to get one. Already feeling the sweats on finding my way to Stavanger and finding a plug adaptor. Im sure it will be fine …… hopefully.
Norwegians are SUPER helpful. The grandmother, Greite, gave me a lift to get a charger for my phone. Saved the 24km round bike trip.
I feel awful that I can’t speak a word of Norwegian.
Day 8 27.07.16
Happy, sad, happy, sad, happy…….
My emotions are pregnant. I cried on a rock the other day, a fucking rock. I read The Fault In Our Stars (terrible book, seemed stupid) and I cried on a fucking rock.
I think I am evening out, maybe the last few months have had more of a detrimental effect than I thought they had. The jet lag of consequence may still be wearing on.
Having a small mid 20’s crisis day. I DO NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY LIFE!! – well I don’t know what to do until the beginning of ski season.
I am currently a jobless slum person. The work-away thing is proving to not really be for me. We only work 7 hours a day and it is just not enough for me, I am getting bored. And I am fed up of being alone. I have spent a lot of my time as a 20 something alone……well have I? Maybe I haven’t. I have a wealth of friends that I would challenge anyone not to be jealous of as they are a pretty banging bunch. My family and I are close. The only bit of my life that is unstable and difficult is work! I feel like I try hard enough, and that I push enough, but I haven’t quite fit yet. The closest was the first season at Glencoe, but I don’t want to be an outdoor instructor.
I feel like I am in this beautiful place, doing some really interesting stuff and I can’t get out of my head to enjoy it. I don’t think I am depressed or being affected by my anxiety. I just haven’t found my slot.
I need to occupy my brain and my hands. Like a deep thinking prostitute.
After this entry I wrote a list of the things I could and couldn’t do. In the could/will/able category I included cook, socially alright, relatively fit, working with blind folk and manual labour. In the couldn’t/can’t/won’t/unable category came wear smart clothes, not have tattoos, work alone, work for billionaires, graphic design and hospitality. Obviously a very useful list.
I also spelled career wrong three times. It is at this point you realise you really don’t have one.