Fresh back from putting my girl on ice. Well at least from seeing her off on the ship to the land of ice and wind. Ros has left on the bright orange ice-breaker for Mawson, Australia's most remote Antarctic base, and for the next fourteen months I shall be living the life of a bachelor. And mean bachelor in the terms of slobbing around in my own filth rather than womanising as we have sworn each other to chastity. But then, "what goes on in Antarctica ...". I stood on the pier and waved, there were tears, thoughts of how this came to be and why and a pervasive sense of loss and listlessness. She was meant to be heading into 12m seas. Not for the feint hearted let alone someone who is not altogether a seafarer. "I hope you have found your sea legs by now".
Now, I have to focus on the now! I have my work to bury myself in. But that is becoming more of an exercise in frustration than anything else. I see my contemporaries indirectly making my position more difficult and yet they are the ones being praised for their efforts. I spend so much of my time trying to make do with what I have rather than sing my own praises or demand more help that I am just digging a deeper hole for myself. If my girl was here she would be telling me to "harden the f**k up" and confront this head-on. She is never one to shy away from a stoush, and this is just one of the reasons why I already miss her. So unless I do something work seems like a very poor substitute.
But what will I do with all this free time. Acedia (sloth) is my poison and I shall need to be extra vigilant to avoid it. I guess I will need some projects, get out and see friends more. And of course there is always the paperwork that I depended so heavily on Ros keeping on top of.
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