Time flies

Time flies when you are busy. I've been very busy ignoring the fact that I am having chemotherapy next Wednesday. It's been great fun feeling increasingly more healthy and being able to do small things, like walking down the street to the local cinema and/or going out at night. The best gift has been that my brain remains unaffected, so when the call came for a freelance commission, I could honestly say: 'yes, I'll do it.'

As a result, I now have projects coming out of my ears. I am still doing the online Data Driven Journalism course that I think should help me with my essay, but the essay is now on the backburner.

I've been commissioned to write something for the 25th anniversary of STARTTS, the NSW Service for the Treatment and Rehabilitation of Torture and Trauma Survivors. As you may guess from the name, this organisation deals with refugees and asylum seekers. I've been associated with them, both in a volunteer and professional capacity, since 2007, when I participated in their Sharing our Stories, Sharing our Strengths conference. In 2008 I wrote and essay for their 20th anniversary. About ten days ago they contacted me if I'd do a reprise and write again for their 25th anniversary. This is the most amazing organisation (and they pay well), so I immediately said yes. It's been a wonderful week, being back in my journalist stride, interviewing, thinking story. I completely forgot about the looming chemo.

Today I came down to earth. I had some bureaucratic stuff to sort out with my energy supplier, who have been shamelessly overcharging me.  I completely fell apart. I can't take indifference, it seems. Not to mention indifferent bureaucracies. They want my money, but offer no service.

What happened to THE CUSTOMER IS ALWAYS RIGHT?  It seems to have gone the way of the dodo. Nowadays the customer has no rights, no say-so, just to hand over the money for service or goods, no matter how shoddy they are. There must be a way to get back at them, but I sure can't think of anything now - except not buy anything. Well, that's not hard, as I don't have much money to spend. Maybe that's why they don't care.

Ah well, I did find one solution to get them moving.  Follow my own advice to my mother, burst into tears and tell them I am on chemotherapy and can't cope. Amazing how fast things get done!

My mother (may she rest in peace) was the type of person who never wanted to burden anyone with her problems. One time she had a particularly unhappy altercation with bureaucracy and she was really upset, crying her eyes out at home. I told her: 'Mom, don't cry at home, cry where it counts. Cry in the office of the idiot who is giving you the runaround.' She did and was amazed how fast she got results. Amazing how smart I was when I was younger, healthy and cocky, but I am not sure I like taking my own medicine. I've had enough of crying. Truly.