Still Gutless

Ehhhk. I'm pretty seedy today so my brain is nicely mashed up enough for me to foolhardily write and maybe even type vomit something that I will maybe want to re-read.
Who the fuck am I fooling with that though?
Anyhoo.

I finally got onto Queensland (aka Deb......who lives in Queensland.....hence the imaginative nickname that took hours of brain sweat).
Every time in the last few days when I've tried to get onto her, after spending hours (I kid you not, I am that gutless) working up the confidence and chewing on the shit that's eating me, I haven't been able to and had to awkwardly speak to her boarder Marc.
Where the very short conversation usually consists of me making stupid sheep jokes (he's a Kiwi) and him chuckling boarder-line pissed off.
The other night: "Ohhh, heya Marc. .....it's Lana..... from down South."
"Ahhh yehhhh. How ye goin'?"
"Not bad....... heard you went home for Christmas." I stutter.
"Mmm, yeh, had an awesome one."
"*snorts with laughter* ....so you...ahhh *snort* caught up with all your sheep than?" I say while kicking myself as hard as I possibly can.
"Yehh... just so many of them, you know. Hard to keep up with them all, so it took a while. Just millions of them"
"*snorts* ....aha, I bet there are" I choke out, barely audible to even myself.
After hanging up I punch myself in the head and throw my phone across the room with "You fucking dickhead! What the fuck is wrong with you!?"

Last night I rang again and tried to be as nice as possible to Marc who probably thinks I'm some sort of pompous pretentious tart. I also unbelievably refrained myself from the sheep jokes.
Deb wasn't there, so nearly choking on my own self-contempt I asked the normal pleasantries before going to suffocate myself in my pillow.

Deb rang back only an hour or two later while I was at a friend's BBQ and well into my drinking.
"There's a job up here all ready for you, if you want it." she said.
"Ohhh...really? Great"
"When you reckon you'll head up?"
I put my beer on the ground. A sure sign of shit getting serious. "Umm.... I.. ahh.... how much notice would you need?"
"Mate, if you rocked up 'ere tomorrow you'd have a job the next day."
"Ohh wow.... umm...."
"I'm about to head off for about a week, but it'd be fine if you came up while I'm not here"
"Ohh, you're going away? What date will you be back?"
"Ahhh after the long weekend....the....ahh 28th I think."
I bit down hard on my lip, "Ohh wow, ok. Umm..... well I reckon I'll come up after that. Just need to get my arse into gear, you know." I force a laugh while dropping my head, thinking the blood going that way will work in some sort of helpful way.
"Yeah, no worries. Well let me know what you're doing mate."
"Yep cool.....I will. I'll speak to you soon."
As I hang up I whine bitterly looking at my white knuckles.

And that's how it ended, with the ball in my court. Actually no, it always was there.
I've got no more excuses. I've got the ute. I've got the laptop. I've got the job. I've got the accommodation. I've got nothing here holding me back.
Ohh bloody hell!

Just bite the bullet.

Just bite the bullet.

Just bite the bullet.

Bit fucking hard.