Seemed to be apt somehow.
Enjoy.
Friday, 27 November 2009
Wednesday, 25 November 2009
Shifting Sands
My energy levels have crashed. At the moment, I'm doing bits and pieces for my Plans for World Domination, but I'm aware of the amount of work I have to do and a lurking sense of panic. However, I told the panic to go sit in the corner and to Stay! It seems to have worked, it's not getting under my feet and tripping me up. I can only do things in the order in which they need to be done and at the moment, I have a lot of knowledge to chew through. And it can only be done a bit at a time. No faster.
Today, it hit me how much has changed. A week ago I was counting the hours until I could leave, and leaving work was so the right decision. I would turn up at 9 am and be ready to leave again at 9.30. That's no way to treat an employer and it's no way to live. I do miss them though, the quirky people, I like them very much.
Thursday, I finished work and went straight into meeting about Plans. It was very productive and things will be happening fairly quickly. Until things solidify, I'm afraid I can't say too much, only that it's combining two of my loves.
I'm in a bit of a quandry. It comes down to the balance between blogging my personal stuff, of which I let everything hang out, you know me, I completely over-share, and blogging about things with The Occasional. He knows I blog. He knows I have 2 blogs. It wouldn't take Sherlock Holmes to find both Journeying and this blog. Therefore, how much is it safe to put in the public domain? I have never named names, and it was different with The Viking. The Viking and I got together through blogging and while we did make mention of each other, we had an understanding of what was off-limits.
I've spent more time than is probably healthy, wrestling with my thoughts on relationships. What I want, what I would like, wouldn't like, would never, ever put up with again. I have hung out my relationship laundry to dry in the blogging world. It has enabled me to firm up amorphous thoughts, deal with lurking traumas and hold the occasional Pity Party. I've needed this space to do that. So what do I do now?
I am spending time with someone who I can be myself, warts and all. I laugh a lot. For the first time in a long time, I feel as if I'm being completely seen, the paradoxes that make me creative, business-like, fun, melancholy. I have no idea where this is going. To be honest, I am grateful that things are unfolding in the way they have been. Slowly, slowly. Getting to know him, the parts that he hasn't shown during our years of friendship. And all the while, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that he cares for me and he likes me and our friendship is important to him. Every now and then I have a panic attack - OMG what am I doing?! And then I breathe through it, all will be well. I don't need to be in a relationship. I'm here because I want to be, because he wants to be. He isn't clingy or demanding, or insecure, and I believe there is a fundamental need for both of us to have our space respected. We have other things going on in our lives and I couldn't have him living out of my pocket. Ugh. However, when we make plans, they are kept, he does what he says he will.
Perhaps we'll find an equilibrium, perhaps it'll all collapse in a heap. Who knows? If I gave into the Panic and run away, I'd never find out and actually, I'm learning a lot at the moment.
Today, it hit me how much has changed. A week ago I was counting the hours until I could leave, and leaving work was so the right decision. I would turn up at 9 am and be ready to leave again at 9.30. That's no way to treat an employer and it's no way to live. I do miss them though, the quirky people, I like them very much.
Thursday, I finished work and went straight into meeting about Plans. It was very productive and things will be happening fairly quickly. Until things solidify, I'm afraid I can't say too much, only that it's combining two of my loves.
I'm in a bit of a quandry. It comes down to the balance between blogging my personal stuff, of which I let everything hang out, you know me, I completely over-share, and blogging about things with The Occasional. He knows I blog. He knows I have 2 blogs. It wouldn't take Sherlock Holmes to find both Journeying and this blog. Therefore, how much is it safe to put in the public domain? I have never named names, and it was different with The Viking. The Viking and I got together through blogging and while we did make mention of each other, we had an understanding of what was off-limits.
I've spent more time than is probably healthy, wrestling with my thoughts on relationships. What I want, what I would like, wouldn't like, would never, ever put up with again. I have hung out my relationship laundry to dry in the blogging world. It has enabled me to firm up amorphous thoughts, deal with lurking traumas and hold the occasional Pity Party. I've needed this space to do that. So what do I do now?
I am spending time with someone who I can be myself, warts and all. I laugh a lot. For the first time in a long time, I feel as if I'm being completely seen, the paradoxes that make me creative, business-like, fun, melancholy. I have no idea where this is going. To be honest, I am grateful that things are unfolding in the way they have been. Slowly, slowly. Getting to know him, the parts that he hasn't shown during our years of friendship. And all the while, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that he cares for me and he likes me and our friendship is important to him. Every now and then I have a panic attack - OMG what am I doing?! And then I breathe through it, all will be well. I don't need to be in a relationship. I'm here because I want to be, because he wants to be. He isn't clingy or demanding, or insecure, and I believe there is a fundamental need for both of us to have our space respected. We have other things going on in our lives and I couldn't have him living out of my pocket. Ugh. However, when we make plans, they are kept, he does what he says he will.
Perhaps we'll find an equilibrium, perhaps it'll all collapse in a heap. Who knows? If I gave into the Panic and run away, I'd never find out and actually, I'm learning a lot at the moment.
Thursday, 19 November 2009
Freedom!
This afternoon at 3pm I became a free woman. It was absolutely the right decision, however, I still felt really sad to walk away from work. I realised how much I really like the people there and I will miss them.
But it's time and it was the right thing to do.
Tonight I took Boy and his really good friend out for dinner. I was a bit worried that she would sit still in that embarrassed teenage girl way, but she was great fun. We laughed ever so much. There is a lot to be said for sharing good food and drink with the right people, and they were definitely the right people. I am constantly amazed by the fact that not only do I love my son to bits, but I really like him too, I mean as a person. He's such good company. We share the same inappropriate, sharp sense of humour. When he eventually flies the coop, I will miss him to bits.
I won't have any respite, I'm going straight into getting my Plans for World Domination into effect. I kick things off tomorrow afternoon with a meeting with a business advisor and then I will get cracking on setting things up. Don't ask any questions and I won't tell any lies. All will become clear in time. But it's a really exciting time.
I had a bit of an odd experience yesterday. A couple of weeks ago my surgery got in touch and invited me to have the Swine Flu jab. The first wave of vaccines are being offered to those deemed at risk: suppressed immune systems, pregnant women, asthmatics. Given my temperamental lungs, I thought it would be a good idea, so after work yesterday I trooped into the medical centre. I sat down and waited for my turn to be called. I was directed to sit in a different waiting area and cast and eye over the bumpf about the vaccine. It said it was a dead vaccine and there were some slight side-effects, but all would be well. I folded it up and waited some more. But then a vague sense of unease began to creep in.
I'm not against vaccines. I was born in Trinidad and my grandmother lost most of the use of her left hand due to polio, so I think they're a good thing. I had all of my shots, as did Boy. I actively supported him having a flu jab and I will encourage him to get a Swine Flu jab. So I was a bit surprised to feel this sense of unease, a creeping sense of dread. As I sat there, I realised I didn't want to have it and I wasn't going to have it. That made me blink. I'm a good girl, I listen to my doctor, I do as I'm told when medical professionals tell me. I was about to get up when the nurse called me in. I apologised and told her exactly how I felt. I couldn't explain why. We talked and she was very patient and sweet and in the end I thanked her for her time and left. I didn't have the jab.
I'm still perplexed. Something to talk through in tomorrow's session with my counsellor. I'm so strange. I still surprise myself at exactly how strange I am. Ah well.
But it's time and it was the right thing to do.
Tonight I took Boy and his really good friend out for dinner. I was a bit worried that she would sit still in that embarrassed teenage girl way, but she was great fun. We laughed ever so much. There is a lot to be said for sharing good food and drink with the right people, and they were definitely the right people. I am constantly amazed by the fact that not only do I love my son to bits, but I really like him too, I mean as a person. He's such good company. We share the same inappropriate, sharp sense of humour. When he eventually flies the coop, I will miss him to bits.
I won't have any respite, I'm going straight into getting my Plans for World Domination into effect. I kick things off tomorrow afternoon with a meeting with a business advisor and then I will get cracking on setting things up. Don't ask any questions and I won't tell any lies. All will become clear in time. But it's a really exciting time.
I had a bit of an odd experience yesterday. A couple of weeks ago my surgery got in touch and invited me to have the Swine Flu jab. The first wave of vaccines are being offered to those deemed at risk: suppressed immune systems, pregnant women, asthmatics. Given my temperamental lungs, I thought it would be a good idea, so after work yesterday I trooped into the medical centre. I sat down and waited for my turn to be called. I was directed to sit in a different waiting area and cast and eye over the bumpf about the vaccine. It said it was a dead vaccine and there were some slight side-effects, but all would be well. I folded it up and waited some more. But then a vague sense of unease began to creep in.
I'm not against vaccines. I was born in Trinidad and my grandmother lost most of the use of her left hand due to polio, so I think they're a good thing. I had all of my shots, as did Boy. I actively supported him having a flu jab and I will encourage him to get a Swine Flu jab. So I was a bit surprised to feel this sense of unease, a creeping sense of dread. As I sat there, I realised I didn't want to have it and I wasn't going to have it. That made me blink. I'm a good girl, I listen to my doctor, I do as I'm told when medical professionals tell me. I was about to get up when the nurse called me in. I apologised and told her exactly how I felt. I couldn't explain why. We talked and she was very patient and sweet and in the end I thanked her for her time and left. I didn't have the jab.
I'm still perplexed. Something to talk through in tomorrow's session with my counsellor. I'm so strange. I still surprise myself at exactly how strange I am. Ah well.
Sunday, 15 November 2009
Taking a Deep Breath
Apologies for the post below, I think you were right, I was physically low and it obviously blows everything out of proportion.
As the great poet Bob sang 'Times, they are a'changing'. I have plans for World Domination and it's time to start putting them into effect.
Which is obviously why I'm sat here writing.
I'm about to take a leap into the unknown. I have a parachute and a reserve. I have a churning gut and very sweaty palms. When I was younger and taking risks seemed more like survival rather than foolish, I'd jump and deal with the consequences as they arose. Yes, in hindsight I made some brilliant mistakes and there are some I would sooner slit my own throat than repeat, but in the main those rash decisions got me where I am today: blogging in my fluffy pink dressing-gown.
Wish me luck.
PS. It seems that The Occasional and I are 'seeing where things go'. That's what the man said. So we'll see won't we.
As the great poet Bob sang 'Times, they are a'changing'. I have plans for World Domination and it's time to start putting them into effect.
Which is obviously why I'm sat here writing.
I'm about to take a leap into the unknown. I have a parachute and a reserve. I have a churning gut and very sweaty palms. When I was younger and taking risks seemed more like survival rather than foolish, I'd jump and deal with the consequences as they arose. Yes, in hindsight I made some brilliant mistakes and there are some I would sooner slit my own throat than repeat, but in the main those rash decisions got me where I am today: blogging in my fluffy pink dressing-gown.
Wish me luck.
PS. It seems that The Occasional and I are 'seeing where things go'. That's what the man said. So we'll see won't we.
Thursday, 12 November 2009
An Unexpected Visitor
There was a knock on the door yesterday, when I answered it, it was the Self-Pity Gnome. Just a cuppa, it pleaded. Fine, said I, just a cuppa then you go. In he came, had a cuppa, we caught up, talked about old times. You know how it is. Out comes the wine, the nibbles and obviously, it's too late for the bastard to go home again. So he's been kipping on my couch for the last couple of days.
I put it down to the fact I'm still feeling wretched after the cold. I will feel brighter once I shift the bastard from my sinuses. Two weeks of this kind of thing is bound to be physically and emotionally wearing. And I have been trying to work through it, keep up with my obligations and responsibilities which depletes my already minute store of energy. I'm just tired people.
It's all the old stuff. I really wish I could find something new to obsess about. I sometimes feel like I'm really getting somewhere and then I realise that I'm back in the same, familiar pattern. The worst thing about all of this is that my expectations are so small and straightforward. It feels like there really is no point in having expectations, they are a waste of time and energy.
All I want (yes, I know I'm repeating myself) is a lover who will see me properly and accept me. A lover who actually wants to be with me. That's really not to much to ask is it? I'm not demanding texts every hour on the hour, expensive presents, dinner dates, co-habitation, engagement ring, marriage and happily-ever-after. I just want to spend some time with someone, who actively wants to spend time with me, who wants to get into my knickers, who likes my weird sense of humour and doesn't mind my music collection. Is it too much to ask?
Apparently it is.
I put it down to the fact I'm still feeling wretched after the cold. I will feel brighter once I shift the bastard from my sinuses. Two weeks of this kind of thing is bound to be physically and emotionally wearing. And I have been trying to work through it, keep up with my obligations and responsibilities which depletes my already minute store of energy. I'm just tired people.
It's all the old stuff. I really wish I could find something new to obsess about. I sometimes feel like I'm really getting somewhere and then I realise that I'm back in the same, familiar pattern. The worst thing about all of this is that my expectations are so small and straightforward. It feels like there really is no point in having expectations, they are a waste of time and energy.
All I want (yes, I know I'm repeating myself) is a lover who will see me properly and accept me. A lover who actually wants to be with me. That's really not to much to ask is it? I'm not demanding texts every hour on the hour, expensive presents, dinner dates, co-habitation, engagement ring, marriage and happily-ever-after. I just want to spend some time with someone, who actively wants to spend time with me, who wants to get into my knickers, who likes my weird sense of humour and doesn't mind my music collection. Is it too much to ask?
Apparently it is.
Sunday, 8 November 2009
*Sniff*
Sorry I've been a bit absent, the last couple of weeks have been a bit rough and I've had a few demons to wrestle with and evict. Not helped by the bloody cold that turned up last week and decided to hang around as sinusitis. Bastard thing.
I just don't have the physical resources to work through a cold, so I took a couple of sick days in the vain hope the cold would get the hint and just fuck off. Instead, it took it's shoes off, put it's feet up and made itself very comfortable. So now I'm drinking gallons of tea, taking my usual comfort drugs and feeling very sorry for myself. Well, it's got to be done.
As you may remember I went along to my GP to ask for some blood tests to ensure there wasn't an underlying cause of my rubbish energy levels. That's when the trouble started. He spent the first half of our 10 mins trying to say that my rubbish energy levels were linked to my Mood Disorder. Basically, when I got so low over the summer with the various disasters, my body released various stress hormones with the result that my energy levels were crap. I was a bit surprised by this diagnosis. I had hitherto been unaware that he felt I had a Mood Disorder. I just thought I suffered periodic depression. The next half of our appointment he launched into a non-smoking lecture, rounding it off by saying I had an Addictive Personality.
Quite.
In the remaining minutes of our consultation he laid out the argument in terms of Nature and Nurture and I went home thinking 'I'm screwed'. My genetics are faily dodgy and my nurture is a long, long story that I bore my counsellor with every Friday afternoon. I just wanted to curl up and howl. It took me a while to process things and on the third day I woke up mad as hell.
Those labels he so carelessley slapped on me are at best demeaning and at worst a serious misdiagnosis. I wikied Mood Disorder. Basically, it's like a doctor putting cardiac arrest on a death certificate. If you're dead, your heart doesn't beat. Mood Disorder, is a catch-all phrase to describe all manner of depressions including SAD, bi-polar and post-natal depression. How does that help? It's not like he was offering me any chemical assistance either.
Which leads me on to my so-called Addictive Personality. This one made me stew for hours I tell you, until a friend who counsells families of alcoholics had a bloody good laugh at my expense. I have alcohol in the house which has dust on it. I also have an emergency stash of Valium (shhh! don't tell anyone). Someone with an addictive personality couldn't leave these things be. They'd have to be consumed. Yes, I smoke. But I don't smoke as much as I could. I stick within my comfort zone. As for my sex addiction, my gambling and me being a crack whore...yeah right. Hardly. I'm not a control freak either. I don't keep these things around to test my ability to say 'no'. I have alcohol in the house in case I have company, or for cooking, or in case I fancy a drink. My alcohol consumption is about 2 units a week, if I drink at all. Come the Festive Season, Hottie and I will be downing a few glasses.
It has lead to me seriously thinking about changing my GP.
The Occaisional and I have continued to see each other on weekends. He said resolutely a couple of weeks ago, he doesn't want a relationship and he thinks it would be best if we didn't have a physical relationship. Which is why I made him breakfast over the weekend.
I'm bemused by it all. I do want a relationship, I do want committment, yet, here I am swapping bodily fluids with someone who won't commit. The weirdest part about it all, is I'm actually quite alright about it. It's really good being with someone who cares about me; I enjoy his company, he's sharp and witty and I do fancy him. He makes no demands of me. I don't have to listen to a blow, by blow account of his every working day, or make him dinner or meet his parents. We meet up, have a drink, catch up. He's not seeing anyone else, I'm not interested in anyone else. We aren't courting each other. I suppose it's friends with benefits. I have no idea whether this time was the last time, if there will be a next time.
I do know this much. He gives a shit about me. We won't walk off into the sunset together, I could put money on that, but I'm pretty sure we'll be friends for a long, long time.
Yeah, I'm learning.
I just don't have the physical resources to work through a cold, so I took a couple of sick days in the vain hope the cold would get the hint and just fuck off. Instead, it took it's shoes off, put it's feet up and made itself very comfortable. So now I'm drinking gallons of tea, taking my usual comfort drugs and feeling very sorry for myself. Well, it's got to be done.
As you may remember I went along to my GP to ask for some blood tests to ensure there wasn't an underlying cause of my rubbish energy levels. That's when the trouble started. He spent the first half of our 10 mins trying to say that my rubbish energy levels were linked to my Mood Disorder. Basically, when I got so low over the summer with the various disasters, my body released various stress hormones with the result that my energy levels were crap. I was a bit surprised by this diagnosis. I had hitherto been unaware that he felt I had a Mood Disorder. I just thought I suffered periodic depression. The next half of our appointment he launched into a non-smoking lecture, rounding it off by saying I had an Addictive Personality.
Quite.
In the remaining minutes of our consultation he laid out the argument in terms of Nature and Nurture and I went home thinking 'I'm screwed'. My genetics are faily dodgy and my nurture is a long, long story that I bore my counsellor with every Friday afternoon. I just wanted to curl up and howl. It took me a while to process things and on the third day I woke up mad as hell.
Those labels he so carelessley slapped on me are at best demeaning and at worst a serious misdiagnosis. I wikied Mood Disorder. Basically, it's like a doctor putting cardiac arrest on a death certificate. If you're dead, your heart doesn't beat. Mood Disorder, is a catch-all phrase to describe all manner of depressions including SAD, bi-polar and post-natal depression. How does that help? It's not like he was offering me any chemical assistance either.
Which leads me on to my so-called Addictive Personality. This one made me stew for hours I tell you, until a friend who counsells families of alcoholics had a bloody good laugh at my expense. I have alcohol in the house which has dust on it. I also have an emergency stash of Valium (shhh! don't tell anyone). Someone with an addictive personality couldn't leave these things be. They'd have to be consumed. Yes, I smoke. But I don't smoke as much as I could. I stick within my comfort zone. As for my sex addiction, my gambling and me being a crack whore...yeah right. Hardly. I'm not a control freak either. I don't keep these things around to test my ability to say 'no'. I have alcohol in the house in case I have company, or for cooking, or in case I fancy a drink. My alcohol consumption is about 2 units a week, if I drink at all. Come the Festive Season, Hottie and I will be downing a few glasses.
It has lead to me seriously thinking about changing my GP.
The Occaisional and I have continued to see each other on weekends. He said resolutely a couple of weeks ago, he doesn't want a relationship and he thinks it would be best if we didn't have a physical relationship. Which is why I made him breakfast over the weekend.
I'm bemused by it all. I do want a relationship, I do want committment, yet, here I am swapping bodily fluids with someone who won't commit. The weirdest part about it all, is I'm actually quite alright about it. It's really good being with someone who cares about me; I enjoy his company, he's sharp and witty and I do fancy him. He makes no demands of me. I don't have to listen to a blow, by blow account of his every working day, or make him dinner or meet his parents. We meet up, have a drink, catch up. He's not seeing anyone else, I'm not interested in anyone else. We aren't courting each other. I suppose it's friends with benefits. I have no idea whether this time was the last time, if there will be a next time.
I do know this much. He gives a shit about me. We won't walk off into the sunset together, I could put money on that, but I'm pretty sure we'll be friends for a long, long time.
Yeah, I'm learning.
Tuesday, 3 November 2009
Car Update
Had car seen to today.
The Great Ursus met me there. I kept my eyes forward and walked straight to service desk. I was in comfy clothes (but not scruffy). I did see the back of the BMW Salesman's head, but did not approach.
When the car was ready, Great Ursus dropped me off at the front doors, I walked in, keeping eyes forward and went straight to service desk. I think he must have had a word with the guy, cause he was definitely cagey and less jokey this afternoon and he walked me the long way round to my car. The way, I wouldn't bump into BMW Salesman.
I'm glad it's over. The car is MOT'd, the service is due in 13,000 miles, so we'll go through the little dance again.
Whatever.
I am pissed off, but not for the reasons you might think.
I'm pissed off because I chose to go out with a bloke who didn't care about me, or like me enough to be friends afterwards. I find it very saddening that we can't even share a polite 'hi, how are you.'
It means I wasted my time. That pisses me off. I'm not going to do that again.
The Great Ursus met me there. I kept my eyes forward and walked straight to service desk. I was in comfy clothes (but not scruffy). I did see the back of the BMW Salesman's head, but did not approach.
When the car was ready, Great Ursus dropped me off at the front doors, I walked in, keeping eyes forward and went straight to service desk. I think he must have had a word with the guy, cause he was definitely cagey and less jokey this afternoon and he walked me the long way round to my car. The way, I wouldn't bump into BMW Salesman.
I'm glad it's over. The car is MOT'd, the service is due in 13,000 miles, so we'll go through the little dance again.
Whatever.
I am pissed off, but not for the reasons you might think.
I'm pissed off because I chose to go out with a bloke who didn't care about me, or like me enough to be friends afterwards. I find it very saddening that we can't even share a polite 'hi, how are you.'
It means I wasted my time. That pisses me off. I'm not going to do that again.
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