I thought I'd use today's blog to whine about what a pickle I'm in regarding my stay in Australia.

I've got three months until my return (but I can extend it until the end of October) to blighty, I have hardly any money, and I've only seen Sydney, Byron Bay and Melbourne. What the bloody hell do I do? (Sorry for sounding so English). I need to work more, that's obvious, but I've got no idea where to go should I get the money saved.

Ah bollocks, I'm going to end up picking fruit!

Sorry for such a dire blog, I've been smoking a bit of green and mind isn't in a productive frame of mind. I really should sit down and write when I've got something to write. Never mind, maybe I'll think of something at work.

I thought for today's entry (of a blog that is, not the penetration of anything into anything else, well, not right now, I'm sat in an internet cafe), I'd give a little background as to who am I, hopefully it will help make more sense of my writings.

I'm a twenty year old, British backpacker in Australia (I know there's hundreds of us). I've had a go at university and thought it was a bit crap (well, the place not the course, I won't be going to Stoke-on-Trent in a hurry again, a common point of view apparently). I've settled for working mind numbing, spirit crushing low paid jobs to fund my travels, and finally (after a good ten years) I think I've decided what I want to do in life.

Write.

This blog then, as I see it, is a sort of practice ground. I've noticed that practicing doesn't quite make perfect, but it does improve (I've been playing the guitar for eight years and now I can play somewhat more than "baa baa black sheep"). This blog is also something of a retreat for me from everything else, pouring my mind onto a website that I know no more than about half-a-dozen people are going to read is relaxing and therapeutic.

I've now just got to decide what to do with my life when I go back home to (what my parents call) 'the real world' (as apposed to the one I'm living in now, where the sky is made of honey, trees sing lullabies, hunger does not exist, but hamburgers eat people). Do I decide to continue on my course of mundane jobs and travelling (I'd like to go to India sometime), or do I study, amass a huge debt and work shitty jobs, while educating myself on my chosen career and learning a little more (what more can I learn?! well I guess I've learnt a few things while travelling) about myself.

I do miss the realm of ridiculously cheap beer that is Union bars, it's a bloody rip-off out here!

No big blog today, it's my day off, well it was and now I've been collared into going to work tonight. Bastards. Anyway, I'm low on funds and a night at work, and not at the bar would be a great financial feat.

It'll be more amusing tomorrow. Well, I can't see how it could be any less amusing.

"It's been a while since my last confession father", or rather my last blog in this case. I have been hard at work (slaving over dirty dishes and pots and pans), that's correct kids, I am living the high-life as a dishwasher or as they call it in Australia a 'Kitchen-Hand'. The name is somewhat misleading as it gives the impression that there maybe some sort of moral reward for helping work-"mates". I suppose the moments of silence between random and unnecessary bollockings are pleasant.

I've always thought that I spend too much time thinking, this generally happens when I'm working, eating, drinking or talking, I'd guess about 90% of my day. Sometimes you can see my brain at work by seeing the tip of my tongue edging out of the corner of my mouth. However, I've found that I only usually think about trivial things.

"Do you ever think there will be a boy born who could swim as fast as a shark" or "If a tiger entered the office, could you defend yourself with a biro?" The fine words of Gareth from the BBC's The Office.

Anyway, as work got busier I realised that I'd have to stop thinking to get on with my job. I put aside my mullings on what to write about in my next blog, started whistling "The Final Countdown" by Europe and carried on with my rewarding, minimum wage, tax free (don't tell anyone, I work for a big company) job. I find it rather bemusing that with absolutely no mental effort I am providing casual employment. I've come across this a number of times, I'll quote a conversation (or argument as it was) with a previous employer.

Boss: "Why haven't you got any ....? [memory evades me of said product]
Me: "I didn't think we'd need any, it's been pretty quiet"
Boss: "I don't pay you to think"

This situation has been running through my head ever since it happened, I think it's somewhat paradoxical (is that a word? It is now). 1, My boss apperently didn't pay me to think. 2, I thought that the missing item was not required. 3, I also didn't think that at the same time. 4, My boss was acting like a twat.

Now, was I in trouble for not thinking, when not thinking was something I was supposed to do? Or was the fault the act of not thinking, something I was supposed to do?

In hindsight, I think that I think about thinking to much. So hopefully, next time I'm thinking my brain will be at ease and not be thinking said thoughts.

Have you ever noticed how good breasts are?