Whilst I’ve changed my opinion on pirates, tomatoes and the
meaning of life; I’ve always been a firm believer in the fact that all things
are possible [except roller skating backwards through a revolving door while
juggling knives and killer clawed kittens].
Everyone said it was impossible to drive from London to Mongolia in a tin-canish car…. But…
I never dreamed it possible to lug a ginormous teddy about for more than a year and I thought my  ability to cycle across countries even less likely… but…
As a kid I believed that humans could fly. I started a
flying academy and whilst all the teachers thought it was cute that a bunch of
people would chase me around the field flapping their arms; the hardest part of
the academy was finding things high enough to jump off, devising flying contraptions
(plastic bag parachutes, umbrellas, cardboard wings, etc), and [the hardest
part:] coming up with feasible cover stories for parents and teachers when height
+ failed contraption = unfortunate incident/sprainage/breakature. I still
believe humans can fly…  
and no, sky diving doesn’t count…
Similarly I still believe that sailing a self-built raft
across oceans is still possible (even if the first attempt was very unsuccessful).
I still believe that I will lick a president some day (I’ve lost track of my
failure tallies on this one). I still believe that someday I will have an
empire… I still believe that I can successfully complete even the most unlikely
challenges on my bucket list….
….But I had a grave revelation this week…. it only took 28
years to discover it….
I moved to Cape Town last Saturday to start a new job 8-30am
on Sunday.  Lack of transport options led
me to rekindle my hatred of the bicycle; cycling 20km in each direction between
a house on a hill and a job on a far massiver hill. Fortunately my job involves
swinging in the trees and making and keeping people happy (and a bunch of more
boring admin/ managerial jumbo) – but it’s a taxing vocation that, combined
with the lack of cycling fitness [or any fitness for that matter] in my life,
and the need for a social life, and ever-present insomniacishness; has made
this the most taxing week of my life!
The typical first day of work bruise

It’s a lot less purple now, but it now bends in two very different directions
As I cycled home on Saturday night after 6 days straight of
9 hour shifts with a broken toe, the wind blew me off my bicycle and  onto the pavement shortly before
a bird decided to expel its lunch on me on me and I burst into tears when it suddenly hit me…
…and I really don’t like this realization at all, or the
ramifications of it…
….and I don’t know how this will affect the ’all things are
possible’ philosophy…
….and I hope I’m not the only one that this applies to…
 …but…
 I’m only human. I have limitations.

1 Comment

Lessons Learned in the Fish Factory - Bearfoot Gypsy · January 8, 2019 at 8:13 pm

[…] Sometimes you miss a bad one. I’ve learned to let that slide. In trying to chase that one bad shell you see sliding off the edge of your production area, you miss another twelve just in front of your face. Sometimes the whole line is filled with corpses, and no matter how hard you and your co-workers grab, you can’t catch even half. This is when the packaging people start yelling at you. I’ve learned not to let other people’s yelling let me down. I’ve been reminded that I am only human (Read: A Grave Revalation) […]

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