Elevenses

The perfect job

2011-08-12T13:25:00.001+12:00

Looking for work is a futile exercise that just results in the destruction of my soul. Well, at least that's how it feels just at the minute.

I wasn't entirely happy in my last job (retail - BOO HISS) but it wasn't really that bad (it was in a bookshop - WOOHOO!) so I wasn't at all pleased to have it pulled out from under me unexpectedly. (Yeah, thanks earthquake.)

So I've been looking for another part-time job ever since that dreadful day and it's been hard. Not hard physically, but damned hard emotionally.

I've always been one of those annoying people who would get whichever job I applied for. Easy peasy, I didn't know what people were moaning about.

But then I had kids and it started getting a bit harder. I started getting rejections maybe half the time. But then, I think I only applied for about four jobs from 2002 until 2010 - and I got two of them. The other jobs I've had in that timeframe were all a case of "who you know".

Since late last year (when I decided I was no longer cut out for retail) I started looking for another part-time job. I've not been applying for a whole heap of them (maybe one a month on average) but it's just been rejection after rejection after rejection.

The reason I've not been applying for many jobs is simply that I'm only applying for positions that are PERFECT. Like, the job was MADE for me. I have all the skills required, all the personal attributes required, the hours would suit me perfectly, the location is fantastic - the whole lot.

But still, nada.

My little sister reckoned my cover letter and CV must be at fault (as she's still at the "get every job you apply for" stage in her life) so got hers out to compare with mine. Mine was a zillion times better than hers, so there goes that theory.

My friend Heva reckons I have to expand my criteria and go for any jobs that interest me, even if I don't have all the skills they request. "They're not actually expecting people to have ALL these skills, it's just their wish list!" she insists. (Heva was made redundant after the quake too - she was working casually within a week, and had secured a permanent full-time position within a month). It's an interesting idea but I'm not sure that my confidence is up to that, given the beating it's had recently.

My friend Lisa says that at least I'm getting SOME interviews, so it's not a total write-off. Well, I got ONE interview, last October. It was totally obvious that I was a bad fit for the organisation once I got there (when the managing director is 22 it doesn't really work for me). I also had a phone interview for another position, but I basically shot myself in the foot for that one when I sounded depressed when the interviewer mentioned that the pay rate was a whopping $14 an hour and if I stayed, in a few years time I might get to the top level of $16.

Despite my confidence taking a whacking, I keep telling myself that the reason I'm not getting these "perfect" positions is that there's something better out there soon to come. Optimistic, yes, but it helps.

What I'm looking for in a job:

NOT retail. I can't stand retail.
NOT food prep or restaurants/bars/cafes.
Preferably something to do with tourism, or health, or community. Helping people in some way.
Something that is a mix of people, creativity and admin would be best. I can't stand being stuck in an office doing admin stuff all day, likewise I couldn't stand doing purely customer service all day.
Preferably a medium to large sized company. Being the sole employee (as I've been several times in the past) is horribly boring and makes for really lame Christmas parties.
Something that won't do my back in. I've got a bad back to start with, which means I can't be on my feet for too long or do any heavy lifting.
A decent wage. I'm so sick of earning pittance. I'd like to earn more than $15 an hour for a change. Actually, I'd love to earn more than $20 an hour (which only equates to around $40,000 p.a.) but it's never happened yet.
I'd like a job that could become a career. Despite having a university degree in psychology and a diploma in tourism I've never had a career. I know that I'd quite like to have one one day.
A central city location. Since the earthquake many inner city businesses have relocated to the outer suburbs of Hornby, Harewood and Bishopdale. That's a 20 - 30 minute car ride away, in busy traffic. I want a 10 - 30 minute walk, close to the kids' school in case of another emergency.
Part-time hours that don't include evenings or weekends. I want to work part-time as my children are still my main priority. My husband's job is all over the place so I have to assume that I'm going to have to do all the school drop offs and pick ups (which means hours must be between 9 and 5), plus if the kids are sick it'll be me having to take time off to look after them. A part-time job just works best in these situations plus I get that elusive "work life balance".
Further to that, flexibility of hours. I once had a part-time office job that was 9am til 2.30pm. Sounds great, right? Except that my daughter went through a phase of screaming when I left her at kindy so I'd sometimes be a bit late, maybe arriving at 9.10am. I'd always make up that time by leaving 10 minutes later at the end of the day, but my boss wasn't impressed and insisted I be there at 9 on the dot. I hate that attitude. It wasn't a shop or call centre. I was doing my own thing in my own office. Give me flexibility and I will work hard for you. Be rigid and I'll quit. (And I did.)
If I ever see a job that requires the applicant be "well groomed" I just move on immediately. It sounds horrendous - I might be expected to wear make up and ironed clothes or something. (Shudder). But seriously, it's surely code for "young, well dressed and made up", and that I am not.

I know this all sounds incredibly fussy, and it is. I guess that if I were desperate for work I'd do anything but as it is I'm not. My husband's job has now been extended until April next year before his redundancy kicks in, and the lucky bugger has already got a potential job offer from another company after that.

So with the mortgage payments sorted for the time being I can afford to be a bit fussy. The constant rejections are soul destroying, but I know that working in a job I hated, for minimum wage, because I had no other choice, would be even worse.

I may be a middle aged mum with outdated skills and a hopeless dress sense (hey! I think I've found the source of my rejections right there!) but I still know that I'm bloody privileged to have the luxury of looking for the perfect job in the first place.

This is the song that never ends...

2011-06-20T14:35:00.001+12:00

It's just after 1pm on Monday as I write this. Funny that, as at exactly 1pm last Monday the Earthquake That Keeps On Giving came back for yet another round.

I'd spent my morning mucking around - I went for a long walk, applied for a job, read the paper, did some housework, surfed the net... A usual day for me in the new normal Christchurch.

I can't for the life of me remember where exactly I was or what exactly I was doing but suddenly B-B-B-BANG! And away we went. Judder-udder-udder-udder-udder-udder-udddddery.

It was a decent aftershock, one that shook my house around a bit, and toppled over the pepper grinder and a big container of drinking water. My heart was pounding when it was over and I rushed next door to see my elderly neighbour - she was also shaking. "Phew! That was a biggie! You alright?" We were both okay, we both slowly calmed down and then my neighbour's daughter arrived on her way to her Queenspark home - apparently her husband had called and said that the dreaded liquefaction was back out that way and was already seeping through her house so she was rushing home to start the clean up.

I went back next door only to find that the fallen water container had leaked 20 litres all over the kitchen floor, so I spent five minutes throwing towels everywhere, mopping it up (and trying hard not to notice the freaky fact that most of the water was pooling in the north west corner of the room... can anyone say subsidence...?).

I then thought that I'd better get the kids from school and when the internet told me that the quake had been a 5.5 magnitude this just reinforced my decision. So I jumped on my bike (remembering from February that the traffic can get very busy after quakes) and headed off.

Passing the local shopping area (only half of it now remains after February - the rest having been bulldozed and cleared) I noticed that yet another block of shops had collapsed in on itself. No surprises there - it had already been badly damaged and cordoned off.

I got to school, the kids were all corralled outside and were quite freaked out. They were cold but no-one was allowed into the classrooms to get their bags or jumpers, so I gave the kids my huge cardigan to wear. I rang my friend Vixen, and got permission to take her two kids home with us as they were also freaked out. Heaps more children looked upset but alas, I couldn't take them all. We joked a bit about it being a bit like February all over again, but thankfully not as bad. We headed home, passing the collapsed shops once again, this time cordoned off by several police cars and a fire engine.

Once home I made the kids some lunch and then Vixen turned up with her teenage boys in tow. We put the jug on for a coffee and I jumped onto the internet to find out more info about the aftershock. It was 2.20pm and I had just clicked on a YouTube clip that was called "5.5 quake caught on film!" when ... BBBBBOOOMMM!!!

Oh my god, you have GOT to be joking...?

But no. Four of the children leapt underneath the kitchen table, screaming in fear. The 16 year old and I clung to a doorframe, and in the bedroom Vixen was stopping, dropping and holding with my 8 year old.

I was trying to calm the kids down but all I remember yelling is "IT'S OKAY! IT'S GOING TO BE OKAY! THIS IS JUST A HUGE BLOODY GREAT EARTHQUAKE!!"

Things were crashing down off shelves and the movement of the earth was a huge back and forth motion - we were thrown from side to side, with a bit of up and down movement in there for good measure. The noise was tremendous and at one stage I thought 'This is it. The whole bloody house is going to come down this time."

Then it was over. I said "Get outside! There will be aftershocks!" but the kids took a while to move, too terrified to get out from under the table. The damage wasn't too bad - the power was out, the water was out, and although a few things had fallen off shelves, it didn't seem as bad as February's quake.

The kids grabbed the 2 litre container of ice cream from the freezer (just like they did in February's quake) and went and sat in Vixen's van for a couple of hours (apparently the aftershocks aren't so bad when you're in a vehicle that's meant to be wobbly).

I then ran back to visit my neighbour, to see how she was. This time she wasn't good - she was grey and having trouble breathing - it looked like a heart attack. "I'm not well" she wheezed, so we called an ambulance and I was very thankful for Vixen's nursing training as she seemed to know what to do. It was a scary time - I was terrified that my neighbour would die before the ambulance arrived, but thankfully there didn't seem to be too many delays.

After that it was time to take stock. We heard on the transistor radio that the bigger quake had been a 6.0 on the scale (although this has now been upgraded to a 6.3 and the first one upgraded to a 5.6) and that liquefaction was once again widespread in the eastern suburbs and many bridges were out. Vixen decided to head home with her kids while she could.

My husband finally arrived home and with uncertainty over when water and power would be restored, we headed over to my parents' home on the western side of town (away from most of the damage). It was going to be a freezing night and we didn't fancy trying to stay warm without any heating (not to mention the fact that our toilets couldn't be flushed or that water wasn't coming out from our taps).

The kids loved staying at their grandparents' house, and it was a nice evening, with them being gracious hosts and providing plenty of wine to fortify our spirits!

School ended up being off for the rest of the week (that's now five weeks of school lost so far this year, plus nearly three weeks off last year due to earthquakes), the kids have only just gone back today. It was sobering, however, to be asked to make sure the kids had jackets and/or coats on this miserably cold wet day, just in case they would be forced out into the open because of yet another quake.

It's a huge backwards step for so many of us. So many are back to a big clean up, trying to get rid of the tonnes of watery silt that is forced out of the ground in the bigger quakes. Broken goods replaced after the last quake have been broken again. I'm sure it's the final straw for many.

On the TV the prime minister and others kept going on about how "resilient" Cantabrians are. Resilient? Well, we don't have a bloody choice do we? Most people can't go anywhere - they're tied to Christchurch with mortgages and jobs and family. Too many people are forced to lived in third world conditions - no toilets, no drainage, muddy silt flowing through the house, but because they've got running water and power their homes are considered to be liveable so insurance won't pay for alternative accommodation.

As for me personally, we're lucky - we're "east side" but only just. We haven't had to deal with liquefaction, and our toilets have always worked, and we've only lost power and water twice (after February's quake and last week's quake). Psychologically, though, I'm almost back to square one. I'm now too anxious to leave the house to do things such as shopping - I'm terrified that I'll be too far away to get my children in case of another quake. But being stuck in the house is also nerve-wracking, as it's where I've been for all of the biggest quakes. Every time I sit at the dining table, I mentally relive the moment the earth started heaving. Same for sitting at the computer, surfing YouTube videos.

I was sitting up late last night, reading a book, when an aftershock rumbled through. It wasn't a particularly big one (just over a 4) but I just about jumped out of my skin in terror. My heart was pounding furiously and I started wondering how hard it would be to give myself a heart attack. I thought I was over this anxiety, but obviously not.

I have my fingers (resiliently) crossed in the hopes that we are well and truly over the worst.

The New Normal

2011-06-12T16:51:00.000+12:00

It's been three and a half months now since the big earthquake and things are totally and utterly back to normal.

YEAH RIGHT.

It's actually not back to normal, despite what the rest of the country thinks (I was up in Auckland in April and there was no mention of the earthquake in the media at all, and the people I spoke to assumed that we were all fixed and back on our feet), but it's settling in to what everyone in Canterbury is calling "the New Normal".

The New Normal is what we're getting used to, day after day, week after week. Every now and then we take little steps forward (such as some streets finally able to use their toilets, or some people finally able to access their inner city homes to get out their personal belongings) and they are a huge thing for those involved.

We were amongst the lucky ones - our toilet has always worked (well, since about five days after the quake, when our water came back on) and we always had access to our home and belongings. But our day to day lives have changed irrevocably, and this is our new normal.

Our new normal includes:

I no longer have a job, thanks to the earthquake, so my day involves searching job listings and typing up cover letters and CVs.

My husband has now been made redundant due to the earthquake, so as of next month he will no longer have a job. This has affected us both as he is extremely stressed out and is considering moving to another town for work. Of course, this is affecting my ability to apply for jobs, as I'm not sure exactly what we will be doing in a couple of months time, let alone where I see myself in five years time (classic job interview question there if ever I heard one).

The kids are back at school (amazingly, they went back a month to the day after the quake) and their new normal is actually pretty good. Their class sizes have dropped by about a quarter, which means that they are getting a lot more one on one time with their teachers. The downside of this, of course, is that they are missing quite a few of their friends who have had to move away.

Walking to school in this new normal involves passing by the collapsed community centre and shops - the kids are now experts at checking for traffic before walking out past the hurricane fencing onto the road to pass them by. Thankfully, the rest of the local shopping centre has now been demolished.

That demolition thing. The new normal involves having conversations with friends but instead of chatting about stuff like shopping or movies, we talk about toileting and homes being demolished. My mate Vixen saw a digger heading down her street the other day and raced after it, hoping that it was going to demolish her badly damaged home. (The insurance company and EQC can't decide whether to demolish or fix her house. She just wants someone to make a decision, even if it's a digger driver who "accidentally" demolishes the "wrong" house.)

Speaking of shopping (not that we are much anymore) the new normal involves not doing a lot of shopping at all. I used to shop at Eastgate mall, the Palms mall, or the central city. All three of these were badly damaged in the quake and have not yet re-opened. I've been to Riccarton mall a couple of times and Hornby mall once since the quake, but honestly? They're just too far away, I'm just too unfamiliar with them, and the traffic is just too horrendous. So now I just don't go shopping, unless I REALLY have to. Should save us a bit of money, which is handy as we both have no jobs in this new bloody normal.

What I did on my earthquake

2011-03-06T16:59:00.005+13:00

(otherwise known as "You call that an earthquake? No, THIS is an earthquake!")

So, funnily enough, it turns out that an earthquake measuring 6.3 on the richter scale beats an earthquake measuring 7.1. And yes, I know that from personal experience.

Now that every soul in Christchurch is an amateur seismologist, we all know that it's not so much the size of the earthquake, it's where it is and how shallow it is.

The earthquake that struck us in September last year measured 7.1 but had its epicentre 40kms from the city centre in a rural area. That sucked for that rural area, but most of us here in Christchurch were spared major damage. We all patted ourselves on the back about how wonderfully our buildings held up to such a large quake and how no-one lost their lives. Pat pat pat.

Then, five and a half months later, it was the 22nd of February 2011 and we got another quake. It had been a month since I'd felt any aftershocks (they had been happening but I'd been lucky enough to not have felt any) so I'd almost forgotten all about earthquakes. This one was a doozy.

It was centred around Lyttelton (10km from the city centre) and was just 5km deep. It measured 6.3 on the richter scale. It happened in the middle of the day, 12.51pm on a Tuesday.

I was sitting at the dining room table, eating a sandwich and reading the paper. My mother in law was in her bedroom, sitting on her bed, listening to a talking book. She would normally have been wandering around town but had thankfully decided to stay back today to finish her book as it was due back at the library.

My husband was at work and the kids were at school.

Then suddenly... BAM! No build up, just straight into violent up and down shaking. This was totally different from the 7.1 quake, which had felt like a violent side to side shunting (it makes sense as it was coming at us sideways from 40kms away, whereas this one was coming up from almost underneath us).

I immediately realised that this was bad, really bad. Everything started crashing off shelves, the noise was tremendous (nothing fell off our shelves in the 7.1 quake, weirdly enough). I leapt under the doorframe, then heard my mother in law screaming from her room. I ran down the hall, grabbed her off her bed (the bookcase had crashed down onto the bed, just missing her) and pulled her under the nearest doorframe with me. We clung to each other until the jolting stopped (the quake lasted about 20 seconds - the 7.1 had been around 40 seconds long).

Once it stopped I dragged my mother in law outside, as I really did not want to be inside for another quake (and I knew more would follow). We ran through the lounge and saw the TV had toppled, as had the computer, and the kitchen was a total mess of broken glass and food.

I couldn't stop prattling on - a nervous reaction I guess. The amateur seismologist in me had to know WHERE, HOW DEEP, and most importantly, HOW BIG. I kept blurting out things like "That was so much bigger than the 7.1! It must be an 8! Definitely an 8! Or a 6 centred right underneath us!"

I ran down the drive to the street and joined scores of shell shocked people. Sirens filled the air, and as we looked down towards the inner city (I live quite close to the centre of town) I was shocked to see a dust cloud rising. "Oh my god! Buildings definitely came down in that one!"

I went back to my mother in law, and the earth kept quietly rumbling beneath us. I knew that the kids were no doubt safe at school (they do a lot of earthquake drills) but that we should probably go and get them soon anyway. Then, about ten minutes after the main quake, a large aftershock rumbled through - it was a 5.8 and the entire block of houses leapt and bucked in the air and people were screaming in fear and anger.

Right, time to get the kids. I grabbed my handbag, mobile phone and keys (running quickly inside to grab these, then straight out again) and we started walking (I could already see that driving would be a stupid idea, as there were cars everywhere). Our 15 minute walk to school took us past my local shops, just around the corner. I put on my blinkers and tried not to get emotional about all the collapsed buildings. I did my best not to think too hard about the group of men desperately digging in the rubble to rescue the people buried under there. (Turns out at least two people died in that rubble).

Everyone was out on the streets and everyone asked the same question of each other - "Are you alright?"

I got to the school and was impressed that there was a strict emergency plan in place - staff on each gate issuing instructions. The staff member on the gate we used was crying, so I had to stop and hug her first.

All the children were sitting in the middle of the open air playground area, many crying, all looking very scared. Teachers were sitting and cuddling several children at once, trying to comfort them. The air was thick with dust from collapsed buildings and smoke from fires. A burst water pipe had cracked through the surface of the basketball courts and water was seeping everywhere. It was like a war zone.

I saw my kids - they were both looking incredibly traumatised (very unlike them) and had been crying a lot. They clung to me and we sat down at the edge of the playground to wait for my husband, who'd texted me to say he'd meet me at school (he walked through the inner city to reach us). One of my best friend's daughters was hysterical, so I grabbed her too and we had a big group hug for about half an hour, trying to calm down, trying to make light of the aftershocks, which were rumbling through on average every five minutes.

My 7 year old daughter calmed down quickly, but my 8 year old son was inconsolable. He'd been picked to do a special writing workshop that week, and it'd been the first day of it and he'd enjoyed it immensely. He'd already been through one big earthquake so he knew what was coming. "I HATE earthquakes! There's now going to be hundreds of aftershocks! It's not fair!! I wanted to do that writing course! My brand new jumper is in the library and we're not allowed to get our stuff! It's just SO UNFAIR!!!" He clung to me like a baby monkey, crying. I ended up just carrying him around.

My husband then arrived, and I managed to convince the staff that I should take my friend's daughter home with me too (as I'd texted my friend to let her know... turns out the cellphone services were mangled and she got those texts several hours later, after she'd arrived at school looking for her child! Thankfully she quickly found out where she was) and we all set off for home. We had to leave all school bags, lunches, jumpers, etc at school in the classrooms, as no-one was allowed to go inside any buildings.

We were glad we were on foot, as the traffic was gridlocked. We all walked on the streets, keeping our eyes above us - we walked under no power cables, no shop awnings. We avoided the few brick walls that were still standing.

We warned the children about the collapsed shops before we got to them - it was just as horrendous as it'd been an hour earlier, except that no-one was now digging through rubble anymore.

We got home and realised that there was no power and no water. We put the kids on the trampoline and gave them a 2 litre tub of ice cream and a spoon each - told them the trampoline would disguise the aftershocks and the ice cream needed to be eaten or else it would melt. Slowly the kids calmed down and became their usual cruisy selves.

Liquefaction had appeared on our street - not as bad as some streets in town, but it was still a shock to see the little "sand volcanoes" having pushed their way through the tarmac of the roads and footpaths. (Some areas of town were flooded with water from broken water mains, or flooded with mud from the liquefaction that oozed through their houses and gardens - we were so lucky we were spared that).

We used our mobile phones to text friends and family, and thankfully everyone was accounted for. My friend and her three other children arrived, looking for her daughter, and they stayed for the next few hours as the roads were gridlocked out of town (they were hoping to get up to Kaiapoi to stay with her parents, as their house in South Brighton had been badly damaged). We listened to our little wind up radio, trying to find out information on what was happening.

At one stage me and my friend's teenage boys went for a walk around the block - we passed The Red Verandah cafe and were sad but unsurprised to see it badly damaged. I continued on to my friend Lisa's house in Gloucester Street and was sad to see the entire back of her house had collapsed (she and her family were safe thankfully). We were also spellbound by the sight of a large column of smoke and helicopters with monsoon buckets - we now know that it was the CTV building, a few blocks from our house, which had collapsed and then burned, with huge loss of life.

Cracks were everywhere, not a single brick wall remained standing, and the previously flat roads were now full of bumps and lumps (not to mention the cracks and sinkholes).

Night fell, we got out the candles, and tried to get some sleep. It was a difficult night - I barely slept as the aftershocks were so regular. The neighbourhood was silent and dark. I stayed awake til midnight, listening to talkback on my little wind up radio and feeling shell shocked.

The next morning we decided we just had to go somewhere. Anywhere.

We still had no power or water, and the only news we had heard of the large earthquake that had struck our city the day before had been bits and pieces on the small wind-up radio we own (never listened to so much talkback in my life) and the word "on the street".

We couldn't flush the toilet and we were reluctant to dig a hole in the garden like so many others had to, so we decided to pack our bags and head across town to my parents' house, and decide what to do from there.

A couple of notes about disaster preparedness:

Oh I'm SO glad my car had a full tank of petrol. It meant we didn't have to join the hour long queues at the few petrol stations that were open.
I'm so glad we always keep a full pantry and have bottles of water stashed about the house.
It was nice to know that we had plenty of candles and matches.
We had three wind-up torch/radio things, no batteries required.
We've always kept our "old fashioned" phone, you know, the sort that just plugs into the phone line and doesn't require power. I've always said it would come in handy in a power cut, and yes, it did.

So we got into our fully-tanked car (well, my car, my husband's car was still at his workplace in town) and started driving west to my Mum and Dad's house. I'd spoken to them earlier and the word was that their side of town hadn't been too badly hit, and they now had power and water. My sister had already left her central city home to stay with them, and we were more than welcome to stay there also.

The drive from Linwood to Ilam usually takes me 20 to 25 minutes (depending on the traffic) but it took about an hour on the day after the quake. Apparently, in the hours immediately following the quake, it would have taken about three or four hours.

The drive was surreal - it was the first time we'd seen anything outside of our immediate neighbourhood and the amount of liquefaction we saw was amazing. Just a few blocks away, at the southern end of Fitzgerald Ave, the liquefaction had turned the previously flat street into a 4WD track - large piles of silt lay in hillocks and valleys, some of these hillocks half entombing cars. We had to drive slowly, no faster than about 20 or 30 km/h, due to the roads being in such a state - as well as the liquefaction there were cracks, sinkholes, and slumps.

As we got further out west the damage lessened and by the time we reached my parents' house you'd have been hard pressed to find any evidence that there'd been an earthquake.

My parents gave us some lunch while we decided what to do. We turned on the TV for the first time and were absolutely gobsmacked to see the footage of the destruction. It was hard to keep from breaking down and crying. It just seemed SO bad. Much worse than I could have imagined. My beautiful beautiful Christchurch. I was just so heartbroken.

Then we left. We secured a motel in Blenheim for two nights so we just drove up north, joining the exodus from Christchurch. We could have stayed with my parents but we just wanted to escape.

In retrospect, it was an expensive escape - we ended up being away for five nights, spending approximately $1000 that we didn't have on accommodation for the five of us - but it was just what we needed. Five nights of hot showers, flushing toilets and clean sheets in a non-rocking bed was heaven.

The first two or three days I was in mourning. I truly believed that Christchurch was a goner. I predicted that our house would be without water or power for many many weeks, and I thought that the school wouldn't open for months. Most of my friends had left town. Our support networks were scattered.

I thought about my son's tennis club - gone. He'd just registered for this year's football season - gone. My daughter's swimming lessons - gone. My job - gone. My husband's job - possibly gone.

The devastation was just so huge that I simply couldn't imagine that we could ever rebuild.

Then, on about the fourth day away, my Dad rang and told us that he'd visited our place and we now had power and water again. Woohoo! I suddenly felt that we could go home again and see how it all was.

We got back home on the Monday following the quake. The road in from Kaiapoi was busy, and got gridlocked around Shirley. Piles of silt were everywhere. I got antsy sitting in the car so decided to just get out and walk. I walked the final 3 kilometres home, looking at all the damage, getting home a few minutes before the others arrived (the drive usually takes 5 minutes).

We braced ourselves for the big mess that awaited inside but... WOW! My parents and sister had spent a few hours cleaning and tidying. Even the gardens were tidied! It was just amazing and such a lovely homecoming. They had even turned the power back on (we'd turned it off at the mains before we left, to safeguard from fires etc) and filled the fridge with fresh food.

We then tentatively picked up the flat screen TV (only a couple of months old) and plugged it in. It worked!

I then picked up the computer monitor from the floor and set it all up again, plugged it in, and voila! Again, it worked!

I had already mentally detached myself from my "possessions" after the quake - I remember saying "Leave it all! Let them loot! Let it all burn in a fire! I DON'T CARE ABOUT STUFF ANYMORE!!!" but it was funny how quickly I came to love my possessions again now that I knew they were okay.

In fact, despite all the mess the quake inflicted, the actual damage wasn't that bad once it'd been tidied up and we'd checked everything out. A couple of small minor cracks in the plasterwork of the walls, and we lost one wine glass, a couple of light fittings and a crappy old bookcase. It felt like a miracle!

Then, best of all, within half of hour of us getting home, my best mate Frally walked in the door. As she'd also left after the quake it was amazing to see her. Turns out they also came home and were feeling positive as well.

In the days that followed we caught up with friends and the feelings were overwhelmingly positive. Everyone was suddenly excited about the opportunities that we as a city were now presented with. I mean, how often do you get the chance to rebuild a city?

It's not been all wine and roses though. The downtown area of the city is still closed off, and search and rescue people are still pulling bodies from the rubble. Every time the police release more names of the deceased I find myself tensing up, then relaxing as I realise that I don't know anyone on the list.

We are still getting aftershocks, usually several every day. Some are real thumpers too, enough to make us leap for the doorframes.

I'm suffering from mild anxiety - I keep reliving the quake over and over, plus I'm always aware of where I am at all times and where I should go in another big quake. I am now an expert of whether or not a doorframe is one of the good old-fashioned strong ones, or one of those puny new-fangled weak ones.

I know that it's likely that we've had the big one now - and I keep telling myself that our house stayed strong and will probably stay strong in anything up to about an 8 or 8.5 quake. I tell myself that it's no use worrying. It's also no use going anywhere - I mean, you can't predict natural disasters and they can happen anywhere. We just drew the short straw this time.

I want to stay here as most of my family and friends are here and that's the most important consideration of all. I don't know what the future holds, but I'm finding it's actually quite exciting to be living here in these times.

The kids aren't back at school yet - we're not sure when it'll reopen, but probably next week or the week after. They're not worried and neither am I. On our trip up north I kept stopping and looking at all the schools we passed - "Kids! Should we live here? You can go to that school!" but now I realise that things are going to be just fine here after all.