Gosh that Sylvia Plath is a downer. The Bell Jar is fantastic -- wish I'd read it years ago -- but I'm afraid I identify with the main character a bit much. I really like her, I'm sure we could be friends, and now the poor chook is being sent for electroshock treatment.
I was feeling a bit Plath-like last night as I drove across the Bay Bridge towards the bookstore. Esther (the electroshock girl) has got to the point where she can't be bothered changing her clothes or washing because she knows she'll just have to do it again. And again. And again, until lights out. On a lesser level, I have got to the point where I just wear the same thing to work over and over again because there is absolutely no point in dressing well when you are going to be squatting at the base of bookshelves, dusting, lugging huge carts this way and that, and dealing with sticky children. I do wash my clothes, however.
I continue to be amazed at the success of The Secret, the book that purports to condense centuries of wisdom into one teeny little book that will change your life. It is flying out the door. They literally can't keep it on the shelves. Oprah plugged it on her show and the whole country has gone bonkers for it. It feels like a very American phenomenon to me. As far as I can tell, the secret is that you draw to yourself whatever it is you are sending out into the universe. So if you are sending out vibes of satisfaction and success, that is what you will reap. Clearly I am sending out great waves of mediocrity and ennui. And yet I can't seem to stop. What is a girl to do?
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3 comments:
Hi - my name's Sam. A friend of mine from NZ called Christine McBride recently sent me a link to this blog. She works at Home & Ent at ACP; we used to work together at AGM on various terrible homes titles. Just wanted to leave a message to say that you're definitely not alone in the ennui stakes! This is quite a funny (as in creepy) thing to write in a stranger's blog, but I'm in exactly the same boat as you, only in Edinburgh. I spent most of my life as an immigrant to NZ, moved country several times in my 20s, came back to NZ, got a career I loved in publishing, left again last year with boyfriend in tow ... and have been stuck in Scotland, jobless and irriatable, for the last five months. I'm starting to wonder if the only place print publishing is still flourishing is in New Zealand - there are very, very few editorial jobs here too, and though I've come close a couple of times, no cigar.
The major difference I can see between your blog and mine is that you're a lot nicer than I am. After five months of constant rain, 4pm darkness and Scots "culture", I'm descending into outright misanthropy! I am really enjoying your blog though - it's making me try not to be such a self-pitying wanker all the time. Take care, enjoy dusting those shelves...
Sam
Hi Sam,
Thanks for the wee note. It made me laugh. We are in pretty much exactly the same situation, except you have been closer to gainful employment than I, which is encouraging (The Scotsman, eh?) but pretty bloody depressing, I'm sure. So far my only interview has been for a job they told me I was "overqualified" for. Isn't that code for "we kinda liked the sound of you, but now that we've met you we're not so sure"?
Chin up. It's got to happen for us, right? Right?
I sympathise with you both.
I work for a library. My current challenge is to shelve books in a space that is already bursting. Why?
I live near Edinburgh. It is dark and cold and hard living at this time of year but in a couple of months, it will be glorious.
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