whinging

...now browsing by tag

 
 

Three Things Daley #45

Friday, July 23rd, 2010

…Humble pie

1. Sydney Opera House. I called you a jerk when you are, in fact, awesome. I called you to task and you stepped up. I’m going to write you a nicey nice feedback letter of thanks. And maybe make you a mix-tape. You have two ears and a heart, right?

2. Time is never time at all. So I thought I’d be able to do all sorts of other things with my time before and during the run of [title of show]. In reality, outside theatre time, I’ve been able to eat, sleep and occasionally wash things.

3. Promises, promises. I pledged not to whinge about the cold this winter. Yeah, about that…

Saturn’s Return… returns

Friday, March 12th, 2010

Yes, we know astrology is bollocks, but there’s gotta be something to explain away my crises – that is, other than self-indulgence with a dollop of melodrama.  My friendly local astrologer looked at my chart early last year and said my Saturn’s Return would be “relatively pain free”.  But lately I’ve been wondering why I’ve been in a bit of a funk.

Then, I read this on a website:

You may feel weak and vulnerable. You want to move ahead, yet are frustrated by a fear of doing so, torn between a compelling urge to throw off everything connected with your past and an equally frantic need to cling to the familiar rather than brave the great unknown.

Even if your external world seems to be in order, your internal structure may feel as though it’s being assaulted with a battering ram. Nervous conditions, irritability, depression, insomnia, and feelings of insecurity are common. Most people go through some sort of identity crisis.

You can add nightmares to that list.  Disappointment.  Heavy boredom.  And an ever-deepening skepticism at a time when you’d be better off taking a leap of faith.

This is why I haven’t been writing.  I’ve been living on a mental diet of cheese puffs.  I’ve even joined the gym again – not just for physical fitness, but as an attempt to lower my mind-fat percentage.

If this is “relatively pain free”… holy shitballs, Batman.

A new self-help diagnosis

Monday, January 19th, 2009

What’s holding you back? 

Why aren’t you achieving all you wanted to achieve? 

Why are you stuck in a job you hate or around people you hate or with the teensiest bit of pasta sauce on one side of your mouth that you only ever realise is there after you’ve got home?

Why aren’t you consistent, except for the fact that you are consistently inconsistent?

santorinisunset

Self-help gurus will tell you that you have emotional blocks.  That something in your childhood, your genes, or your magazine rack, has told you in a profound way that change is bad, or that you’re not worthy of what your little heart desires.

They’ll tell you that you need to go back in time and reconcile your inner brat with the hapless adult you’ve become.  Perhaps you need some free time, some ‘me time’, or a candle.  Fill out a worksheet and figure out where your limiting beliefs come from so that you can reframe them in a newer, smarter, pissweaker context.

Granted, some people do have mental illnesses and/or have been through genuinely harrowing things that they’ve never fully recovered from.  In which case, of course, I wouldn’t recommend seeking help from Dr Phil or Deepak – but someone who’s qualified in more than wearing powder under hot lights.

But one factor – one vital thing – that the book-writers, the seminar-runners and the Oprah-appearerers never, ever seem to address is the thing is my main problem.  So in the name of self-help, I’m going to share it with you now:

Hello, my name is Keira and…  I. Am. BONE. LAZY.

I look for any excuse not to do things.  If I try something and then fail at it, I’ll say “Well, clearly I’m no good at this, but I’m really good at watching TV…”

When presented with the choice between watching TV shows and going for a walk, the DVDs will start singing their theme songs at me – and who can resist the stirring tones of The West Wing?

Lazy

This is not a fear of failure.  It’s a fear of having to work my arse off.

I won’t pitch my story ideas, for example, not because I’m afraid they’ll be rejected, but because I’m afraid they’ll say, “Yeah, can I have it by Friday?”

I don’t apply for new jobs because I’m afraid I’ll get them.  I’m really good at job interviews - compared to auditions, job interviews are a friendly chat.  And then if I wind up with a new job, I’ll have to learn new things and, worse still, do them.  Heaven forbid.

If I do manage to drag myself from the computer or TV to exercise for five minutes, I’ll do weights to avoid cardio. Or yoga to avoid weights.  Or Wii to avoid leaving the house.

I will go to extreme lengths to avoid anything I don’t want to do.  In high school, I did 4 unit science to avoid going into too much depth in physics and chemistry.   It was an extreme measure because my school didn’t even offer the subject.  My friends and I begged and begged our teachers to custom-make the class for us.  Talk about extremely nerdy to the power of x.

It was the perfect crime because, to anyone who doesn’t know any better, “4 unit science” sounded more impressive (It’s not. You replace all the really hard bits of phys and chem with Geology for Dummies).

Zzzzzzz...I play the world like a hand of Texas Hold ‘em – I bluff.  And I bluff - not because of some childhood trauma or because I haven’t inhaled enough lavender - because I just cannot be arsed.

What’s more, I’m pretty certain I’m not alone.  Watch any talk-show or self-help seminar.  You’ll see a few people with actual dire circumstances and abhorrent upbringings to overcome. But for every one of them, there are droves of people just looking for excuses. 

These are people who want a really profound reason why they can’t stop eating Cheetos, why they keep dating jerks, and why they spend all their money on scarves and ottomans.

Why?  I’ll tell you why.  Because you’re too damn lazy to make a change.  Take it from one who knows!

Then again, what would I know?  You think I research?