Who lit the Grail shaped beacon ?

It seems I write best, and most prolifically when I need to rant, vent or stop myself from being arrested for verbal abuse that borders on the physical. This is going to have to be part of the resolution as well, to push myself to write on topics that don’t require my sheer contempt. It has been an interesting week, the pitfalls of working in another country have been once again highlighted to me by the predicament of a friend. The sheer helplessness of being in the hands of other people, and having to rely on others for help and support can be a frightening thing. Especially in this country where an attitude of ‘its not my job’ prevails. That has always been something that I have tried and failed to understand. I could quite happily wax lyrical about the type of person who utters those sentences, however today will not turn into a rant. Safe to say though that the old adage of treat people as you would wish to be treat is a a good rule to live by, because to get very clichéd karma is an unforgiving bitch and will come back to haunt you. Good karma is something you should try and store up. That all sounds a bit preachy, I can be as vile as you like, a great expression I will steal that made me laugh the other day was, ‘ are the still treating you like Lord Voldermorts Niece?’ which sadly the answer had to be yes.

I have also begun the painful business of venturing into the world of renting a villa, I am desperate to rid myself of my 2 hour return trip home on an evening. When you have had a long day and all you can think about is your sofa and a glass of wine, the drive gets ever longer. Its actually not the driving, it’s the lack of driving, the sitting, and inching forwards and wondering what fool has tipped his car in order to keep me from my wine. I realize I am now starting to sound like an alcoholic. So the few things I have learned this week about villa hunting. Real Estate agents are liars, my apartment is an utter gem of a place and I want to move it 10 kilometeres up the road. I cant live in a generic apartment block for fear of killing myself due to averagitis.

That’s not a word I hear you say. To me it is, and also possibly to the mad Italian who I work with.  It is something I have been terrified of my whole life, its what makes me strive to do what I do with my career. Being average. This is what has made me change my hair repeatedly over the years, adding colours, and stripes and even chopping it off, in order to avoid being ‘the same’. Thanks to my Mum I have always been happy to be ‘different’. Not in a special person type of way, although there is an argument for that too. So to live in a generic block of flats would take the person inside of me who has to be unlike everyone else and annoy her til she exploded. So I will not be living in a generic shoe box, I will continue to hunt until I find the quirky house I need.

In the meantime I will continue to shout at traffic and impatiently tap the wheel of my car in my daily quest to beat the traffic home to my wine.