My Future Career

Do you ever just work really slow and feel really sluggish when you have something going on in your head? I feel like if I’m distracted for the wrong reasons (i.e. feeling sad about a relationship), I can’t actually function properly. I am just filled with concern about the love of my life and so I can’t possibly concentrate on anything else.

I’m supposed to be doing a school project at the moment. It’s supposed to be about what we want to do when we grow up. We’re in year 10 and we have to pick our subjects for VCE next year so they want us to do a report on future career possibilities. I think I want to work for a company that installs ute toolboxes in the Melbourne area. I’ve always found it cool to work with metal and build things. I definitely don’t want an office job because I can’t focus for long periods of time when I’m sitting down. This is clearly the case right now because I’ve been struggling to write this personal reflection stuff for about three hours. My mind is just in another place. I can’t concentrate on my future when my present is so bad. Things are unravelling around me and I’m supposed to just keep writing this report like nothing is wrong. I’m too sad to do my homework – why can’t my teachers understand that?

I’m even struggling to imagine what it would be like to build 4×4 aluminium canopies. That’s when you know something is wrong. I really like spending my time building and I think with the right training I’d be good at building ute canopies, but at the moment I can’t even imagine myself doing that. It’s not good.

I think I just need to call it a day. If my brain isn’t working because I’m too sad to function, surely I can just go and lie on my bed for a bit and forget about the world?

A Driveway Chat

‘Can I be honest?’ I asked my husband, standing next to me in the driveway.

         ‘No good conversation has ever come after that question,’ he frowned.

         ‘It’s just… I have no idea what I’m looking at,’ I shrugged sheepishly.

         ‘It’s my new ute!’ he said with a grin, splaying his hands in front of it like he was a travelling magician.

         ‘Okay, so I knew that much.’

         His arms dropped and his grin slipped a little bit. ‘But it’s… it’s new,’ he pouted.

         ‘How is it any different to the old one?’

         ‘How is it–’ he shook his head like he was trying to wake himself up from a bad dream. ‘How is it different?’

         I nodded, putting my hands in my dressing gown.

         ‘Well,’ he started, frowning. ‘I guess there’s the, uh… it has an extra cupholder!’

         He began to walk all around it, trying to justify to himself and to me why he’d spent so much money on a new car.

         ‘Ah!’ he cried out triumphantly. ‘The tray!’

         ‘The tray?’ I asked, coming around the side to stand next to him. ‘What’s so special about the tray?’


         He reached down and grabbed a handle next to his wheel, sliding a toolbox out from underneath the tray.

         ‘Ah,’ I nodded, trying my best to be impressed.

         ‘It’s tapered,’ he explained. ‘It’s a tapered tool box to fit under the tray.’

         ‘I see.’

         ‘You don’t see.’

         ‘I don’t see.’

         ‘It’s neater!’ he protested. ‘And more convenient!’

         ‘I understand.’

         ‘You don’t unders–’

         ‘Sweetheart, we’ll be here all night if you don’t let me lie to you at least a little bit.’

         He frowned, putting his hands on his hips – an actual pout, I realised. My grown husband was pouting at me.

         ‘Do you know where to find quality ute trays around Melbourne?’ he asked.

         ‘Yes, actually.’


         ‘No, of course not.’

         ‘Well it’s hard, okay!’ he stamped his foot, walking back to the house.

         ‘Wait, sweetie,’ I called after him. He stopped and looked back at me.

         ‘You forgot the bins.’