Yesterday I biked across suburbs to have a coffee catch up with the boss and other staff. The long and short of it is that we still have a job, it just won’t be back in the CBD for a long time. Boss is sorting out temporary premises in the suburbs. I’m quite glad about that.
Biking seems to be the best way of getting around these days. The roads at this end of town are chocka. It’s the west side of the city where everything is starting to reopen, so people are travelling across town to get here. I had to unbury my bike from the back of the garage where it’s been hiding since I got pregnant with Miss Seven. I was impressed – it only needed some air in the tyres, oil on the chain and one nut tightened.
Miss Seven after observing this work, wanted to have a go at riding her bike without training wheels. It took 10 minutes with Daddy helping her and she had the two wheel thing sussed. I took her for a bike ride today to find some playgrounds that are normally beyond walking distance.
I didn’t get a very good sleep last night. There were a couple of jolts just as I’d gone to bed, and I spent the rest of the night waiting for the next one. Mister Two was restless as well, and after getting up to him a couple of times I brought him into our bed, where he continued wriggling and squirming, so Hubby didn’t get to sleep very well either.
The lack of sleep is definitely taking its toll. At this stage I’m feeling an undercurrent of anxiety the whole time. It’s not overwhelming in its own right, but it just doesn’t go away. We went shopping the other day to Smith City in Bush Inn, and walking into the shop the first thing I do is look around for the structural columns and figure out where I’d need to be if it started shaking. I don’t like walking past tall buildings at all. I’m always partially keeping my distance from any wall over head height. (Another reason why biking’s good – compared to walking you’re that much further away from those six foot concrete block fences that some posher suburbs in Christchurch are so fond of.)
The Urban Search and Rescue teams are starting their suburb sweep. We had a team of two knock on our door to see if we were okay. I mentioned our cracked chimney, and they reminded me of the risk of it coming down inside the house. I was already conscious of that risk, so felt even more anxious after that visit. Phoned Housing New Zealand again about the chimney. Yes, they could see that job had been logged a week ago and referred to the contractors. No, they had no idea of how long it would take. If you’re not feeling safe perhaps you need to consider finding somewhere else to stay in the meantime (but no offer of assistance to find that alternative somewhere to stay, nor are we in the right part of town for a credit on our rent).
Hubby suggested taking advantage of one of the many offers of accommodation from our friends all over the country. By the end of the afternoon I was in possession of a WINZ grant for return standby flights to Wellington for myself and three children (Hubby will stay to look after the house and his business). The goal is to get a few nights of good sleep so I can return to Christchurch refreshed and ready to carry on. The irony of considering Wellington as a destination to escape from earthquakes has not been lost on me. My host-to-be assures me they haven’t had one in a while. Don’t know if that helps or not – does that mean one’s due?
It’s all those little things that add up. The chimney’s not a big deal in its own right, but it’s on top of my own “nerves”, the children are showing signs of being unsettled and scratchy, Mister Two still won’t let go of me without a fight, and a lack of good sleep. Just having a change of scene, and maybe a chance to reduce that list of little things will help.