"Why can't we love the right people? What is so wrong with us that we rush into situations to which we are manifestly unsuited, which will hurt us and others? Why are we given emotions that we cannot control? That move in exact contradiction to what we really want: We are walking conflicts, internal battles on legs, and if human beings were cars, we would return them for being faulty."
(p.188 "The Other Side of the Story" by Marian Keyes)

I'm sitting at work. 5:06pm, and I don't feel like getting on the train home just yet. Thursday evening... I could go shopping, but I've told myself to get over the need of buying something new for the sake of feeling secure, accomplished, or sexy. Materialism is just way over-rated. I've bought pair after pair of new shoes and don't feel any more wanted or any more loved than the next girl.

It's been an interesting few weeks back in Sydney. I would say that I miss being in Italy, but I don't. I'm enjoying being able to live in and accept the reality that is my life. I work full-time, and I know ten years from now, I will not regret spending two years of my life in this organisation or doing this type of work. I've learned a lot about how to deal with difficult people, how to build up good leaders, how to listen and be genuinely concerned, how to be thick-skinned and to the point when someone is messing with me.

I've also learned also learned that political games are full of bullshit and anyone who allows themselves to get suckered into the shit (especially AFTER they've been warned about losing all sense of value or morality) is an idiot.

I'm enjoying this Marian Keyes book because it's honest. There's a character in there (Jojo) who is having an affair with a married man. She knows its wrong, but there is something that she loves about the way he wants her. I read this book and think about the lives of these imaginary characters (all of whom I've developed a fondness of because I relate to all of them in one way of other, even though I've never had an affair with a married man).

At one stage Lily Wright asks: "Why do we have such a finite capacity for pleasure but an infinite one for pain?" I was walking to work this morning (late - again), I decided that this world is obsessed with sex because sex is physical proof that our bodies were made for pleasure. We have an inbuilt desire to be held, touched, loved, kissed and wanted. Generally, people don't want to walk around sad, distressed, depressed and alone. They want to be missed, desired and pined over... and when you get into a relationship with someone and realise that they want YOU... well - what a compliment. Not to say that sex is the answer to depression - if anything random sex with random people is eventually going to give you the opposite conclusion. You'll end up asking, "Why did they stop wanting me?" or "Why did they walk away?" or "If they were sincerely interested, why haven't they called?" and all the pointless insecurities that Satan likes to play games with will rise to the surface and instead of feeling loved you'll feel rejected, sad, distressed, depressed and alone (again).

So what to do this this desire for pleasure and satisfaction? What does one direct their energies towards if not a shallow, temporary union of two bodies in a passionate embrace? God only knows.