Life Stories

Text reads: The comfort zone is so comfortable. Background contains a woman balancing on a fence.

The comfort zone is so comfortable

I don’t watch that much TV but one show I’m really digging at the moment is Star Trek: Lower Decks. In an episode entitled “Where Pleasant Fountains Lie”, there’s a scene in which Rutherford is nervous about an assignment on an alien ship, away from his familiar surroundings.

“You need to get outside your comfort zone,” Tendi tells him.

“But I love my zone!” Rutherford replies.

I am definitely Rutherford, minus the cybernetic implant. Though I probs do have a cybernetic implant now that I’m double-vaxxed, it’s just not visible on my face. 😉

Anyway, Rutherford likes his zone and I like my zone because it’s just so damn comfortable. People say things like, “If you’re not living on the edge, you’re taking up too much room.” But… room is good. I like my space.

I like familiarity. I live dangerously by taking afternoon naps (not during work days obviously) and then trying to fall asleep again at a reasonable hour at night. 😛 Having to (ew) market myself and talk about my book is definitely not within my favoured zone.

But I do generally feel good about myself after the fact when I push myself outside my comfort zone.

For instance, I decided to work in libraries even with the full understanding that it was essentially a customer service job (as opposed to a “sit amongst books and shush people” job). And the first few times I had to answer the phone and talk to clients, I was pretty flustered, but now I’m fine with it.

Recently, I did a beginner salsa class and it was actually fun. I probably wouldn’t do it again — I’m not a dancer and I don’t like all that unnecessary touching, haha. But I’m glad I tried it.

And then there’s Black and Blue. I sat on the manuscript for a long time, thinking that if I never published it, it would never have the opportunity to fail. Now it’s about to be unleashed upon the world and some of you are going to hate it, but that’s okay. I’m happy it’s getting out there.

Like Rutherford, I’m trying to forge ahead with the mission. And like Rutherford, (spoiler alert) I have not died.

And yes, I realise there was nothing particularly mind blowing about that snippet of conversation between Rutherford and Tendi, and I could’ve talked about stepping out of my comfort zone without bring it up at all. But I didn’t want to because Lower Decks is awesome. 🙂

Text reads: Not throwin' away my shot. Background contains 2 gloved hands holding a globe that is wearing a mask.

Not throwin’ away my shot

I have now received two doses of the COVID-19 vaccine and I feel awesome. 🙂

I’m also happy to have reached the “feeling awesome” stage, because I wasn’t in the days following my second shot.

I got Pfizer, and literally the only side effect I had from the first dose was a sore arm for a day. I was in the gym doing an upper body workout less than 48 hours later. I knew — and was also told by the nurse administering my vaccine — that side effects are more likely to be worse for the second dose of Pfizer. But it was still a bit of a shock to be out of commission for two days and have to call in sick to work. Then for the next few days I was functional but definitely not 100%.

But I’m all good now and I’d do it all again — short-term pain for long-term gain. And I already get the flu shot every year for work, so more jabs in the form of COVID boosters are no big deal to me.

Besides, it would be great to be able to supplement my income by offering additional services as a mobile hotspot. For the right price, I’m also open to walking past someone you don’t like in order to shed the vaccine virus at them. 😉

P.S. In case y’all missed the Hamilton reference in the blog title…

“My Shot” — Hamilton
Text reads: Letter to my long distance love. Background contains the Sydney Opera House and Harbour Bridge at sunset.

Letter to my long distance love

Dear Sydney,

Why you gotta do me like this?!

As of now, there are virtually no COVID-19 restrictions in Perth again. (Though I’m keeping a clean mask in my bag just in case.) But my heart is heavy because there’s a hard interstate border separating us and I don’t know when it might come down.

I love you, Sydney. Well, I love certain people in you. But you’re pretty cool too. Apart from worshipping the worst football code ever invented. 😉

When I was last with you at the beginning of 2020, COVID-19 certainly existed in the world, yet it seemed so far away from us in Australia. Now it’s you that seems a world away. My last attempt to get back to you was thwarted by a lockdown in Perth. Now it’s you that’s in lockdown. 😦

I look at the daily new case numbers, the images of people who seem to be packing beaches and shops for no apparent reason when they’re supposed to be at home, and I wonder when it’ll all end.

And to be honest, I’m mad because it feels like this could’ve been avoided (or at least closer to being resolved by now) had the state not backed itself into an ideological corner — but I digress.

Mostly I’m just sad and I miss you, my darling Sydney. And I really hope to see you again soon. ❤

Love,

Your mate in the wild west.

P.S. I went a bit nuts topping up my Opal card last time so to cut a long story short, I also really need to get to you and ride some trains or something. 😛

Text reads: Living in a teetotal paradise. Background contains 3 colourful cocktails in glasses.

Living in a teetotal paradise

Recently, I got an email from the Dry July Foundation — as I’d previously donated to them — inviting me to step up and take the Dry July challenge myself this year.

Dry July is a fundraiser in which participants give up alcohol for a month to raise money for services for people affected by cancer.

All well and good, except that… I don’t drink alcohol. And I suspect I’ll have trouble getting anyone to sponsor me to do exactly what I do every day of the year.

But in a country where drinking has traditionally been part of the culture, I’ve been asked plenty of questions about this over the years. So to summarise…

No, I’m not a recovering alcoholic.

No, it’s not against my religion.

Yes, I get “Asian flush” if I drink.

Yes, maybe I’d be less anxious if I drank. And maybe I’d be worse. Regardless, I’m not going to.

No, I don’t care if you drink in front of me. (Though if I get the sense you’re about to do something regrettable, I might just leave before I have to witness it.)

I did used to drink a bit. Like one or two drinks if I went out or something. Mostly to fit in, and mostly sweet things that didn’t really taste like alcohol.

A few years ago, I came to the conclusion that fitting in is overrated, and if anyone has an issue with me opting not to drink — there are some folks out there who take it really personally for some reason — then that’s their problem.

So yeah. You do you, and I’ll do me. 🙂

Now, if by chance anyone would actually donate money to see me live my normal life, let me know. 😉

Text reads: The mask giveth and the mask taketh away. Background contains someone holding a cloth face mask.

The mask giveth and the mask taketh away

I don’t know if you’ve ever attempted to do a HIIT workout while wearing a face mask, but I probably won’t be trying that again.

Technically I was doing vigorous outdoor exercise far away from everyone else in the park, so I would have been exempt from wearing a mask under current restrictions in Perth. But I wanted to show that I wasn’t a pussy who couldn’t hack it.

Turns out I am a pussy who can’t hack it. 😛

But I have managed a couple of (less intense) masked workouts in the gym since they reopened and I was okay. And the Premier has announced an easing of mask restrictions from this weekend so I won’t have to wear one at the gym anymore.

I don’t mind the mask too much when I’m not exercising though. I mean, I don’t love it. It can be uncomfortable and it’s annoying when my glasses fog up. But given a choice between wearing masks and going into lockdown, I’d take the former.

Besides, some people have had to wear a mask every day for over a year and counting, so I can imagine what they’d think of me whinging about my face being sweaty as I go on with my life almost as normal.

And if I’m having an acne breakout, the mask makes me look like a stylish ninja instead of a hormonal hot mess. 😉 Although some breakouts can be linked to mask wearing. The mask giveth and the mask taketh away. I’m sure that’s in the New International Corona-Version of the Bible or something…

I guess what I’m trying to say is, I feel lucky (in spite of my anxiety disorder and lack of stamina). Things could have gone very differently, but we’ve been fortunate in Australia. Which is not to say things don’t desperately suck for a lot people. But it’s not sucking because bodies are being piled up in the street for mass cremation while hospitals run out of oxygen.

I know I have a habit of catastrophising, but it’s not like I’m pulling that scenario out of thin air. 😦