The good news is that it is a long weekend coming up. It caught me by surprise, I hadn’t realised that such fortune would bestow the worker this week. The bad news, however, is that I may have to visit the folks, well i mentioned that I might head down on Sunday for the night. I know that there are those people out there who absolutely love their family life and my hats go off to those virtuous souls, however the other half; the destitute and spiritually bankrupt, souls not dissimilar to myself find the ordeal of family responsibility a rather tiresome and bothersome obligation. In truth, the whole family thing and especially the happy family thing is just too hard to bear when one needs to travel half way across the country to partake in fifth commandment bullshit.

It is annoying that for some reason the onus is on me to bring my ass down to see Mum and Dad when it was their choice to move to the arse end of New South Wales. Like a five hour drive just for proprieties sake seems excessive. For what? So I can keep someone else happy. Pure people pleasing, and because it isn’t exactly people in the sense of other people but family – it is somehow transformed into duty, responsibility or obligations because there are blood ties involved. It even seems antiquated in this age of self. What gain can be angled from this antiquity? None! It is purely an indulgence in superficial pleasantries. What’s a selfish old sod like me to do?

Family dynamics and relationships may seem interesting looking from the outside in but when the inverse is true it becomes too close to reality to be at all comfortable. I just wish that the distances involved weren’t so great, having the option to shorten the obligation into a more manageable chunk seems a vision in paradise. Ah well no amount of whingeing will make it go away.

Responsibility. One word that brings so much discomfort. As time marches on so too does this one word, becoming larger and fatter, growing in direct proportion with time spent. Time narrows with each annual performance appraisal, yet the tasks and functions that need completing on the daily grind list, expand. Like squeezing a hose, gripping time around its neck while the pressure of a thousand little nuances bulge in the bottle neck of a recessive tick and tock. Age is the precursor for this whip bearer who is constantly in need of some extra sustenance. Ah well I’m sure it’s all for the best and alls I can do is grin and bear the added burden of life’s riches and feel flattered by having reached a level of prestige in slavery.

Placing responsibilities to one side, I must apologise for the ongoing haphazardness in appearance of this blog, I’m attempting to give it a face lift; although it’s not entirely of my own creation but in due course I will be able to claim the aesthetics however sad it may look until the time I eventually settle on something I like. The coding of the theme I may have foolishly purchased from WP Remix, thinking it would be easier than starting from scratch and admittedly it is better than trying to do it all from the ground up given my limited knowledge in these things but I could just be justifying the outlay of 50 odd hard earned dollars. Hopefully in time I’ll get to a level I’m happy with.

ANZAC day is one of those days that seems to drag on with continuous ceremonial pomposity, not too far removed from the likes of a religious public holiday. In fact the whole ANZAC day thing seems to have been infected with religious fervour, more than I think it warrants. I remember when I was in High School when I was green behind the ears and not nearly as cynical  as I am now, that ANZAC day was just a day off but it has somehow morphed into public consciousness as something bigger and better than in years passed. There has to be a correlation between September 11 and the way national symbolism is being shaped.  ho knows but tomorrow we can forget yesteryears warriors and concern ourselves with the responsibilities and distractions at hand.