RT @literatechicken: @LadyWriterMelb Sweet post abt Rupert! Know what you mean, cats just make everything better (but I’ve always been a …

The psychic and the cat

About ten years ago, I decided to see a psychic on the Gold Coast. I’ve always been curious about what the future might hold so I booked myself in to see John the psychic.

Whilst I can’t remember everything that he told me I remember he was pretty adamant that I’d be the proud owner of a cat.

John: “I can see you with this cat. It’s a white cat - and it’s like it’s your cat.”

Me: “Umm. I don’t like cats. Sure you’re not seeing a dog, a white one?” 

John: “No, it’s definitely a white cat and its yours.” 

Me: Oh… OK. (This guy’s crap)

He later told me a few other things, that I’d work in Government (that did come true) and that I’d have the partner and family I deserve, I just might have to wait (yep still waiting genius…).

Flash forward to November 2010 and I find myself the proud owner of a white fluffy cat that I named Rupert (after the bear - another story another time). Getting a cat was never something that I’d thought I’d do - and psychic man’s brilliant vision certainly didn’t influence me to change my mind overnight.

After being in a relationship with someone who owned a cat, I got to observe the close bond between and animal and his owner first-hand. I’ve never had a pet - so didn’t know what it was like. This cat was different, though. He had a personality and was pretty special. 

So, when the relationship ended I felt like I not only lost the man in my life - but I lost his pet too. In a matter of a couple of months, I found myself driving 40km in the rain to pick up a tiny kitten.

I imagine it would be something like having a child. You go through all the trouble preparing for it. You anticipate the day with excitement. You get nervous and not sure if you’re ready for the responsibility. But you go ahead and go through with it anyway!

I left the breeders with Rupert in his cage, meowing all the way home. I brought him inside and let him explore his new home. 

It didn’t take him long to settle in and become part of my world. I discovered he’s pretty special cat. He’s turned non cat-lovers into mush (my Dad often bypasses me when he visits and goes straight to Rupert!) He helped me fill the void I was experiencing being single - again. And was there for me constantly over the past 12 months through a lot of change in my life. 

One year on, I’m glad Rupert’s here and here to stay. I’ve become ‘one of those people’ that talk about their animals, laugh about their antics and get mad (not for too long) about their naughtiness. I’m happy I finally made the decision to have an animal in my life. And while I’m still looking for all those ‘people things’ that we all want in our life - my furry friend will be there to cheer me on. 

Is timing everything?

“Ticking away the moments

That make up a dull day…

Waiting for someone or something 

To show you the way”

Time - Pink Floyd

I’ve always worn a watch. I’m just one of those people that gets to places on time. I’m never early, never late. I’m like the Goldilocks of time keeping - ‘just right’.

I visited friends and family in the UK, last October, taking my watch with me, but sometime early in that trip my watch stopped. I’d not long changed the battery. I was going to get it replaced while I was there, but didn’t get around to it. I thought it would be a good opportunity to rid myself of time constraints. I was on holiday, after all!

When I came home, I didn’t feel the urge to put my watch back on. Where once-upon-a-time I’d feel naked and anxious without it, I decided to leave it and I’d replace the battery later. After all, I could always ask someone what the time was. Or check my phone. Or look at the sun. Or listen to my stomach. I’d see whether keeping conscious time would change how I operated.

After another trip overseas - to the US this time - I continued my new tradition of not wearing a watch. And I survived!

I think I’ve coped pretty well without it. I’m a lot calmer. I don’t run things to a tight, army schedule. But, I’m still punctual. However, I’m not so worried about being late where time is not really of the essence. It does throw people, though. When I was 15 minutes ‘late’ picking up my brother one day, he laughed and made a remark that he was wondering where I was. He thought it was a good thing and said that clearly I was starting to ‘chill out’. (Am I really that predicable?!)

With everyday ‘time’ being something so engrained within me, it still hasn’t stopped me thinking (OK, periodically obsessing) with the timing of my life’s events.

Ever wondered why sometimes things just don’t work out? You don’t get that job you applied for. A relationship doesn’t work out, without any good reason. You miss out on a car spot. You’re unexpectedly delayed.

Sometimes, it’s just a case of timing: you didn’t get that job, because you were meant to get a better job. The relationship didn’t work out because it, perhaps, wasn’t the right time right then, or it just not the right person. You end up parking your car closer to the shops. Your unexpected delay, in fact, meant that you bump into an old friend… or you make a new one. Whatever the reason, you normally reflect on what you thought was bad luck, on that occasion, and realised it was just a matter of time.

But, having said that, the one thing I don’t want to do is waste time. So, after my time away I’m focused on making the most out of each day, edging closer towards my personal and professional goals. 

Just yesterday, I picked up my watch out of my jewellery box, thinking that it might be time to get a new battery.

It was ticking… I smiled and thought that my watch was telling me something. My life has only just begun.

christophhewett said: Hi Katy, I thought I'ld say hi (I run @_the_kennel_). It's good that your giving Social Media a go, I was in the same place 3 years ago and it opened up a new world to me (right on my doorstep). Your article really resonated with me as I'm doing the whole re-assessment thing too. Just today I asked my boss for a sabbatical.
Anyway feel free to follow me on Tumblr or on Twitter (@ChristophHewett).
Go Doggies. Cheers, Chris.

Hi Chris!

Great to hear from you. I dabbled in Social Media a couple of years ago, and gave up. Probably not really understanding what it is and how you can use it. I’m glad I’m giving it a proper go, too! It will be certainly an interesting experiment for me. Who knows, like you, it could also open up some doors. I’m willing to give it a good go!

Really glad you liked the post… and very spooky that you’re also assessing what you do. Good for you. It’s scary, but I’m hoping it wil be well worth it. Keep in touch!!


Are we there yet?

For the past 32 years, I’ve driven on the freeway of life at 100km/hr.

Sometimes, I’ve exceeded the speed limit. But, thankfully, I’ve never lost any demerit points. Other times, I’ve screeched to a grinding halt going nowhere on the Monash ‘car park’ with no option other than to toot my own horn, along with the rest of them. 

I’ve always been a high achiever, exceeding expectations and trying to please those I look up to. In the process, however, I can’t help but think I might have forgotten to please myself.

We moved around a lot when I was young. So sitting in that preverbal traffic jam now makes me just a little anxious. I just want to move forward to get to my destination! I can’t help it, I’m impatient. I want to get to the place where I can slow down to 50km/hr, use my cruise control and be happy.  But what is it that will make me happy? Perhaps I should continue burning some rubber until I work it out? When I take my Mum out for a spin (she doesn’t drive), she keeps telling me to slow down and live in the moment, while she hangs onto the ‘Jesus rail’ for dear life. I tell her: I know what I’m doing, you’re not in the driver’s seat!

I went through high school aiming for an ‘A’ in class…and was terribly hard on myself on the rare occasion that I got a ‘B’, or God-forbid, a ‘C’. At university, I did a double degree over four years and aspired to, and achieved, a Distinction average.

Straight from uni, I went into gainful employment. While friends were living it up working in London, bar tending in Lisbon, or teaching English in Tokyo, I accelerated up the career highway here instead. I clocked up some good mileage and pimped my ride a number of times. Fortunately I was sensible enough to ‘do the right thing’ and took a pit stop every so often at those Driver Reviver sites to avoid crashing out. After my power nap, my coffee and Kit Kat, I’d be able to carry on refreshed. Although in taking a ‘break’, (and thus breaking the seal) waiting for the next toilet stop always seemed like an eternity. 

I worked really hard at being an excellent driver, even when challenged with bumps in the road, bird shit on the windscreen and dick-heads in the back seat.  Fortunately, I had mostly a smooth ride. But I can’t help that secretly wish I was riding in a red convertible: loud music, cruising smoothly along the California coast line with a very hot man. In reality, I first settled for a white, 1987 Mitsubishi Colt that had trouble climbing up Wellington Road. I’m a pretty realistic girl, though, and would never expect to jump into a flashy car before I earn the privilege.

I was proud of my work and my achievements, but after ten years of cruising along the communications highway; working for, and along side, the big wigs, Mayors, Presidents and tinpot Hitlers, I decided that my vehicle was starting to look knackered. It was overheating and needed a bloody good service before I ventured along the toll road, no turning back and no way to get a refund.

I slammed on the breaks and swerved into the emergency lane. I, again, came to a grinding halt this time not due to a traffic jam or a car crash. Monash Freeway

Had I not made the decision to stop myself, I feared that someone else might have made it for me. Exhausted, I called the RACV and got myself towed. I climbed into that tow truck (leg-lifted up ‘cause I’m only 5’ 1”) and was finally up high enough to see things from a different perspective, instead of lying spread-eagled on the asphalt of despair. 

So, just for now, I’m at the mechanics. Not the scrap heap. And I’m nowhere near the stage where I’m going to offer someone 20 bucks to take me away. I’m taking some time out for a career tune up. I’m sure you’ll agree that’s a reasonable investment. 

My mechanic told me I forgot to put water in my tank. I needed to top up my antifreeze. I’ve got a few scratches that need polishing up. Yet I’m very fixable and it shouldn’t cost too much to repair.

For the next few months, I’m taking the time to do things that I’ve always wanted to do. I’m already starting to feel calmer, happier and excited about what’s next. 

I’m even planning on taking that ride down the California coast for real… and when I drive over those hills and come out at the other side, I want to feel that I can take on anything again. I’m going to be ready to accelerate up the career highway with new enthusiasm and a fresh look on life. 

Who knows, this time, I might even decide to take a different route.