Wheelbarrow

 Fun fact, everyone: I had a drafted post with the exact same title except basically it's all gone decidedly Pete Tong around me.

Okay! Let's start again. I did purchase a pair of Doc Marten sandals and tried to make them my new personality but managed to wear through the "Softwair" soles in under three months.

I thought that by buying a seriously-priced pair of leather sandals I had at last succeeded in correctly interpreting the Sam Vimes Boots theory, and that such an item of footwear would in fact outlive me. In fact, I went straight through them. Whoops. In all fairness to the Truro branch of Schuh, they replaced them immediately and sent my worn pair off to the experts at DM to see what kind of horrors can be prevented next time. Keen foot fans will remember the time I dropped £70 a pair of boots from Clarks and managed to destroy them so completely that the iron shank that runs down the centre rotted away. ANYWAY rather than spend £139 on these beautiful beautiful sandals and then spend another £20 resoleing them as and when, I decided that actually I will go back to buying a new pair of Karrimor sandals every year at £20, rather than dropping the equivalent of 8 pairs of the little ones. I may try and play the DM sandal game again at some point, who knows.

I've been trying to come up with some posts about videogames, as I mentioned last time - the chilling loneliness of Metroid, the post-apocalyptic nature of the Legend of Zelda, and just why is there so much Assassin's Creed? I'm currently 100 hours deep into Tears of the Kingdom, and have barely scratched the surface of just how much there is in this game, and now I think about it, am well overdue for my replay of Killer7 - I might just go ahead and get the HD version on Steam and run it through my Surface but also actually RELEASE IT FOR SWITCH but also the whole experience of playing it on GameCube is part and parcel, which forms some of my thoughts around game preservation and the merits of original hardware. As an aside, say what you like; I love the little purple lunchbox (although of course, mine's black). A more recent re-release to be very thankful for is Fire Emblem 7, or just plain old Fire Emblem as it was called on its 2002 release in America and Europe for the GameBoy Advance, 

So what am I doing? Newly unemployed again, still at choir, still writing programme notes, still wearing kilts and sandals all year round. Many long-time readers will know about my on-off relationship with choir, but I'm trying to make peace with things at the moment. I joked with a friend about how my latest audition was the last shortlist I'll ever be on (such was how much I wanted that job), and dear reader I did not get the job. It absolutely broke my heart and I don't even know if I'm literally capable of applying for another singing post again. I mean it this time! I know a lot of people often think I'm doing a bit, you know "Oh Peb's having one of his funny turns again" but actually this one hurt and I'm not over it. I'm not. It's that simple. One of my friends commented that he hadn't seen me grieve over it like the previous ones but it's because it's been so intrinsic that it's just... there, constantly. I won't bother naming it because... Because that's how I play this game! In a way, it feels stupid because it's "only" 10 auditions over the last 7 years (although there's that 2 year pandemic break so maybe more like 10 in 5? Yikes.), you know, but it's me and I'm not that strong really and getting a new post also entails moving away and all of that terror and making new friends and establishing a new support network and being able to afford to live (regardless of my terrible spending habits, shit is expensive, yo). At the end of the day, I am an autistic person and I struggle a lot and I try and make calculated moves for what is literally possible (how much will I earn from this vs the housing market, what work can I get to go alongside it, do I think I'm up to it), and it just seems that I'm bad at math. And it hurts. After the one that didn't want me because of my haircut, the one that didn't want me because I went to the wrong university, the one that definitely wanted someone else from the get-go (to mention but a few), this is it. At this point, I genuinely feel that I won't shortlist again, I've been knocked so many times that I've just lost the confidence I need to keep picking myself up and doing this and... yeah.

I guess it's worth it to work out my trauma in public like this, I mean, how else will I? I'm still singing recitals and what have you and having lessons (in fact, I'm enjoying my lessons very much) and all but I'm still wondering what the endgame on this is? Many elements that make me unhappy and feel unvalued here have not changed, and never will, at least in this lifetime. Huh. What is different is our new Director of Music. Baby steps, I suppose, what with the man literally being in post for... 72 days at time of press, but he's here and he's working and we're working with him and the change he brings as well. It will be interesting to see what the future brings, especially as I navigate through this incredible negativity. I put my cards on the table a few days ago and looked the guy in the face and just said I was desperate to have a positive relationship with him, but I've been going through the wringer recently and my behaviour is... Somewhat erratic??? so I just thought it might be worthwhile making an "ex cathedra" style statement and being clear. 

And speaking of knocks, I've just been dismissed from the new job I managed to get myself after the last job down the road basically shorted my hours into oblivion and so I left! Hah hah haaaaa... Tell you what lads, I'm out of hospo, I reckon. My absolute top tip for you is to never be a disabled person in the workplace, because it's just not worth it. Down the road was shattering and some (not all, I hasten to add) management spoke to me like I was less than dirt, but the cafe I've been working for the last three months, while staffed and run by some real stand-up wonderful people, has absolutely rinsed me. I have gone home after workdays and just laid down in bed, unwilling to do anything. And then today I was... Let go. 

I hate this summer. I hate this year, how it has made me feel weak and incompetent in my professional endeavours and with personal setbacks. I've had enough, and I don't know what to do. A wise man once said "Success is how we recover from failure", but where is that? Is it my fault? Am I not reading the signs (for this generation is constantly asking for a sign), or am I just on the wrong side of history of things? I feel lost, fractured and adrift as I bounce between one ill-fitting employment to another while I see my friends enjoy their lives and go on professionally advantageous opportunities with the time and money earned from their own working lives that just seem to work slightly better. What the hell am I doing? Too old, too grumpy, too unpopular (did I tell you about the time I almost died doing that CD recording in Oxford? Maybe another time), too much the wrong person. There's something missing, it's like I can feel it just out of reach, somewhere in the liminality just past my peripheral vision. Dear Roger Federer's stunt double, I have seen what you've done for others and I'd like you to do that for me. Hah!

I have no choice. I cannot go on but I must go on.