the quiet revolution

I went, I touched, I tasted, I tried, and now I want.



I want the job. I want the career opportunity it represents. I want to beautiful office filled with natural light. I want the co-workers who seem genuine and down-to-earth.

I want the Hobart lifestyle, centred around the waterfront, with proper seasons and clean, crisp air. I want the property prices I can afford and a city built on a more human scale.



I am surprised. I may yet be disappointed. I might not get the job. Or I might, and find it not the match I imagine.

I interviewed well. I am capable of the job. It all depends on the competition.



Now, I wait.

For more reasons to consider, ( consult the photographic evidence. )

My world, she is spinning so fast, so fast; all bearings lost but for bright hope and love's warm embrace. The air itself tastes rich with potential and opportunity, with that unmistakable edge of fear, sourly metallic. Change, uncertainty, counter-punch to certain mediocrity and discontent, with insufficient information to yet make a decision. Cartwheeling round-and-round in chasing the unknowable, seeking fact before fact can form. I won't know what I want until I can touch it, taste it, smell it; cannot promise I won't be denied this chance, yet still find myself investing in it.



Yes? Let's settle for a maybe, while my bets remain hedged until more is known. If only I knew what I actually want.



On Friday I'm being flown to Tasmania for a job interview. I am doing my best to catch my thoughts and restrain them, though still they escape, bounding away in a tumble of overwhelming possibility and under-riding uncertainty.



Eeeek!