The Scamp is Restless

Day 400, 615 of lockdown and I have lost the plot. I’m tired of being inside, tired of having my holidays cancelled and tired of only having myself for company. I am lucky that people video chat, call and even stand outside my window so I can make some human connection.

I miss my friends. I miss hugging people. I actually sorta miss my commute to Glasgow….okay, not really that last one. I do not miss being tired at night or up so early in the morning.

I’m feeling so restless that I spend a good amount of time looking for new places to live. I’ve been in my current flat for almost 5 years. This is the longest I have lived anywhere since I was 18 years old. That and the lack of actually being able to travel has made me really itchy and anxious to move. The problem is, I’ve really fit myself into this place. I compare everything I look at to this place in terms of space, location and safety…and not much compares for what I am paying.

But I am tired of living in a shabby place. I keep it clean, but the furniture (minus the bed and mattress) is at least 6 or 8 years old. The bathroom is out of date. The toilet leaks, the bathtub is sad and everything is just a depressing shade of beige (I’ve been hearing for 5 years that it is going to get redone, but it hasn’t happened). The electrical in this place is possibly illegal and of dubious safety and my washer is temperamental on the best of days. Right now, with 50 mph winds, my curtains are blowing in both rooms and I can feel the breeze (both windows are closed and locked, but are single glazed and need some work). None of these things really bothered me until I was forced to spend 23 hours a day here.

Which makes me want to move. I want something new, something fresh, managed by people who are interested in caring for their property and the furniture. I want something bigger. Something I am not embarrassed by. If you have ever tried to find a new place to live during lockdown, let me tell you, it is about as easy as trying to read a book in language you don’t speak while you are blindfolded in the dark.

I hate this feeling. I hate feeling restless, I hate not being able to really go outside, and I really hate not being able to travel. These feelings are all being compounded by my favourite place in the world: Napier.

After all of the fun with Napier while I was trying to work on the PhD, being screwed over waiting for the viva date, the horrible viva, and then rewriting an entire PhD in six months, I have yet to hear whether I have passed or not. One of my examiners is over a month late in reading my work, so no graduation for me….at least not for now.

This waiting, this limbo has kept me from enjoying anything. There is a chance they will reject my new work and I don’t get a PhD. There is a chance that they give me another 6 months of corrections, and there is a chance that they finally see that the first thing I published was a piece of shit written at the direction of someone who has no business supervising students on PhDs. To say that I am angry is an understatement. This feeling is keeping me from feeling motivation to do my job, to write some articles for publication, and do really do anything that I thought I would be doing at this point post PhD. I have weight that is not being lost, sleep that is not restful, and an attitude that is not positive.

I don’t like this feeling. I want to be happy. I want to do yoga. I want to write for fun. I want things that I’ve worked hard for to be recognized. I’d like a permanent contract at work and a promotion so I can make my loan payments, not have to pay heaps of money every 6 months for a visa and the uncertainty of this temporary contracts.

The one thing about this is that the weather is getting better, it is lighter later which means I can go for walks and avoid most people, and there are baby animals everywhere! The swans have had a successful batch of babies (7 little swanletts bopping around) and today’s walk was 2 different set of mini quacks learning to dive for food. There is nothing better than seeing little fluffy baby ducks learning to be ducks.

9 weeks down. 5 weeks to go.

Some of you better start preparing for the massive hugs you are about to get….you’ve been warned.

The Scamp and the Writing Challenge: Week 46

Today I am thankful for the cold weather. I bruise really easily and for the last few weeks I have been trying to do yoga on a regular basis and for some reason think that I can do any pose out there. I’ve been balancing on my arms, using my knees, and falling. A lot of falling. Because of that, I am covered in bruises. My knees have it the worst. Very purple and ugly….they also happen to look like I spent some time on my knees on a hard surface (don’t worry mom, I’m as pure as the driven snow). Luckily it is so cold here that I have to stay well bundled up. No one sees these knees but me (and probably my neighbors if I wear shorter yoga pants and forget to close my curtains). I am almost done with the medication I am being weaned off of, and minus a few headaches and being tired, I am happy to report that most things in the land of Kim are progressing quite nicely.

But, to the task at hand. I know last week I was not really in a good mood about the election, and I have to say, that has not changed, but I am choosing to keep moving forward and stay off of Facebook as much as possible since it all seems to be a bit daft and people still haven’t figured out that there are some real issues that need to be addressed but that the media is going to make it difficult for anything to happen in a civil way. This week the writing challenge is to write a letter to my future self.

So, here goes:

Dear Kimberly,

I hope by this time in your career people have figured out how you spell your name in the UK. You can be Kim, but Kimberly might eventually have a more academic ring to it. Hopefully you have learned to stop getting annoyed when people spell it wrong when there are so many people in this world whose parents gave them impossible to spell names and yours can easily be shortened. In the grand scheme of things, an extra e isn’t really that big of a deal.

I hope that you learned to stop worrying about money. The loan will get paid and you will not regret any of those trips that you took, or the parts of the world you got to see. You will learn more about yourself and about people then you could ever learn being in one place all the time. I hope you have learned to see all of those adventures as investments in yourself and little bits and bobs that come together to make you a better person. All that hemming and hawing you do now about money is making your head hurt and not doing you any good.

Your stubborn ass better still be in therapy, even if it is just every so often to do general maintenance. Don’t you dare do that thing you did when you were younger and assumed that once it started to work and you felt better that you didn’t need to go anymore. That’s stupid and we both know it. You need to get a handle on some very deep seeded issues, but you also have a brain chemistry that needs a little extra help to stay balanced. Don’t put aside that process when you know you need it.

Keep pushing for the literacy programme, especially if you haven’t gotten it up and running yet. You know the value of it, and know what a difference being able to read can make for people. You want to make the world a better place, and the way to do that is give people the power to educate themselves and be involved in processes that effect them. The goal is not to teach people only English, so you aren’t just trying to make people fit a prepackaged idea of literacy, and whether everyone understands that or not is not your concern. You just need to focus on the people that you want to help and the best ways to do that. Also, you better still be sending books to Muffin.

I hope that you have figured out how to let go of toxic relationships and have faith in the bonds you have. You were surrounded by some really amazing people, and although small in number, they are the ones that matter, not the other ones. Stop trying to change the minds of people who don’t like you because in the great words of RuPaul: “What other people think of you is not your concern”. The ones that matter, the ones that are probably still in your life, those are the ones who know you, those are the ones who care, and the ones you should focus your love and attention on. They haven’t let you down, so don’t let them down.

And for God’s sake, you better have at least one dog. Seriously.

Sass and snark,

Kimbo

The Scamp Gets Rewarded

Today was the last day of my first class at Fullerton College. I tell anyone who will listen how much I love my position there, and how much I love what I do. Today was yet another reminder of why.

I thought to leave my students with some final thoughts about writing, and my hopes for them as they continue their writing career. I know that had I been in a better place, I would have written something heartfelt and meaningful, but because I am all tapped out for the semester, I gave them the gift of John Keating. I played a clip from the movie Dead Poets Society. 

I wanted them to internalize this quote:

We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, “O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless… of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?” Answer. That you are here – that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?

I thought that maybe these words would be my gift to them.

Today, though, my students gave me a gift.

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This merry band of misfits have all become amazing writers. I’d love to say it was all my doing, but many of them came to me with the ability, and just needed someone to help them fine tune it. They asked me if they were my favorite class, and I told them the truth when I said yes. I looked forward to seeing them every Monday and Wednesday, and I have really enjoyed reading all of their work.

When I had finished with my words of wisdom, they all wanted to share their final thoughts. Many of them told me that they loved my class and are excited to have me next semester, and one woman told me that she knows God steered her toward my class for a reason. She is a returning student, and worked hard for an A in my class. She told me that she would have never survived if it wasn’t for me. Another one of this delightful group told me he would have dropped the class if it had not been as interesting as it was. This was the first college class that he actually passed, and one day I hope to stumble across his writing in a bookstore.

I have a month off before it all starts again, and I have to say, I can’t wait.

It is not very often that I get to come face to face with my good decisions, and man does it feel good when I do.