Bloody tradesmen. And bloody T for leaving me in this mess. Sometimes I despair. I really do. So, hoovering on Sunday in anticipation of Singapore Pam's visit (hope you're reading this and feeling honoured Pamela!), I discover that T's motorbike helmet, that's been sat behind the kitchen door since I collected it from the police station several months ago, is sat in a pool of water. Shit. No time to look into it, have to run out the door to meet people...
Monday - manage to pull the washing machine out (no mean feat) and discover that the pool of water extends under the washing machine and the kitchen units. In fact, the electric heater is sat in the middle of it too. Probably not that safe. Shit again. Go on the checkatrade website. Find a local plumber. He can come that night to take a look. Great. Said plumber calls later that day: 'Who are you again? What was the issue? Remind me of your address.' Hmmm. Plumber comes that evening as promised, says I need a new washing machine hose and a replacement tap thing. Cost: 'Let's think, £80...£90...£105 should do it'. Fine. I've got no idea how much I should be paying but I can't risk my kitchen ceiling caving in or massive water damage, so I'll pay £105. He can come the next day to fit it. Even better.
Today - on top of massive train delays this morning meaning I was an hour late getting to work, and massive bus delays this evening (I was explicit about the fact this is a rant)... the plumber turns up, fits the hose, asks, 'Is your husband at work?' Those who've been unlucky enough to have insight into my pysche will know that by this point I've already thought about the fact that the plumber might murder or rape me in my own home - or possibly both, or that as he knows I've been out today, he might tell his dodgy mates who might come and burgle the place. (This is in no way a judgement on his character btw. More an insight into my brain. Funny, I typed Brian then by mistake. That's the plumber's name...) Anyway, I found myself saying, 'Yes. He's at work.' Brian: 'He must work very late. What does he do?' Me: 'Oh, he works in IT in the City.' Yada yada. I wanted to punch his lights out. Not only had I let myself feel intimidated by him, but he was delving (probably in a very innocent, plumber kind of way) into my very personal life. And it was none of his bloody business. And I felt obliged to lie.
Anyway, I go and sit in another room to avoid punching his eyes out and wait for him to finish. 'How much do I owe you?', I ask when, 5 minutes later he's done. '£110', says Brian the chancer. 'Funny', says I, 'It's gone up £5 since yesterday'. 'Oh, I must be getting muddled up with another job... It's been a long day... ha ha... I meant £105... yes, it's definitely £105. You found me on the checkatrade site, you say? Well, I hope you might go on and fill out the review about me. No need to mention that I got the price muddled up.. ha ha.' Ha ha indeed, matey boy. When enough time has passed that he wouldn't be able to identify the review as being written by me (warped mind = if he does then he might come and get me in revenge for tarnishing his reputation), then I'll post an honest review. He wasn't all bad. He came when he said and was kind of polite I guess. I don't think he was a total cowboy or anything. But I reckon he took me for a bit of a ride. And he was nosy to boot. The biggest kick in the balls is that the washing machine still leaks, but what am I meant to do about that? Risk having to deal with Brian again or go through the whole procedure with another Brian? Oh, the joys of being a single woman, incapable of coping with DIY disasters. Come back T, all is forgiven.
Tuesday 19 October 2010
Working girl
Just thought I'd post a quick update on where I'm at with things. I'm just coming to the end of my 6-week contract. I can't believe how quickly the time has gone. The return to work has been fine. My brain still works, I can still remember how to do my job, my confidence is slowly coming back, I can get on the train in the evening now and not have flashbacks to the night I got the call from the hospital on my way back home from work. It's all good. Thankfully. It was definitely the right time for me to go back and the right place for me to go back to.
What's not good is the lack of personal time I have. A lot of the time I feel exhausted. Or at least drained. I feel tense and like I can't think freely anymore. It's kind of hard to explain but I think my brain got used to having all day every day to process thoughts and emotions and now it doesn't have that luxury and it's creating lots of noise in my head. I'm having vivid dreams and have started waking up at the same time in the wee small hours again. I go straight back to sleep but that's happened before and it's not a good pattern to get in to.
I've said to a lot of people that it seems so wrong to have so little personal time. Not just me personally, but all of us. What are we doing? I get up just before 7am and I'm never home before 7pm. So 12 out of 24 hours are spent on work-related things. You're meant to get eight hours' sleep a night, so out of the 12 hours that's left, if eight are spent sleeping then that leaves four hours. In that time I try and cook, wash up, make packed lunch for the next day and iron an outfit as a minimum. On top of that I normally have calls to make, emails to send and chores to do. Which means that I have absolutely no time to just relax. It's pretty frenetic.
And that pace is set to continue... I've just accepted a six-month contract at a design agency in Covent Garden. They seem like lovely people and it'll be good to have a new challenge. Six months isn't forever but it'll be a good test of the working water. And it might help me make some decisions in the medium to long term. I'll try not to moan and groan about work too much - it is, afterall, my decision to take up this job - so feel free to tell me if I start being too down on life.
I've also been doing some self-analysis and decided that I'm most definitely a control freak. I don't like being out of control. I don't particularly like taking risks. I like to know what's going to happen as a consequence of making a decision. Even though that's impossible. But this explains why not working was freaking me out. I had all these options available to me and I didn't know what to do for the best. I put a lot of pressure on myself to do something extraordinary and not go back to the daily grind. I agonised about what the 'right' thing to do would be. Should I retrain in something completely different - but what would that be? Should I move abroad and escape things here? Should I get a more mundane local job to get me out the house and earning some money? Should I move north? The list goes on...
So my current situation makes me feel a bit happier. A bit more in control. I feel like a decision has been made for me. Although I have to remember to acknowledge that I'm the one who made the decision (I can hear my counsellor's voice in my head). It's funny how it all worked out - a random and lovely recruitment consultant got in touch with me out of the blue on LinkedIn. We met and she put me forward for four interviews. One said no, one offered and two invited me for second interviews. I hadn't even been actively looking for work and here I was with the possibility of three offers if the second interviews went well. It was great for my confidence. I'm also able to acknowledge now that I'm someone who gets off on being liked and loved. So those three thumbs up gave me a big boost. I wasn't being perceived as a widow who hadn't worked for 14 months, but as me; a capable and likeable professional. I need to remember that. I'm still me, despite what's happened. Some bits of me will never ever be the same again, but some bits are exactly the same and will never change.
And here's one final thing I wanted to share: in all of my interviews I was completely and utterly honest. I told them exactly what had happened. I also laid my cards very clearly on the table. I told them my conditions and that no amount of money would sway me if those basic conditions weren't met. I kind of said, 'this is me, this is what I want, take it or leave it'. It made the whole process so much easier. Instead of saying what I thought the interviewer would want to hear, or what I thought I 'should' say, I said what I wanted to say. It was liberating and empowering and I think it earned me some respect. I urge you to give it a go.
Right, that was meant to be a quick update and turned into a download. I haven't even touched on the 10k run I did last weekend (52m56s), or the fact I gave blood last week (and nearly fainted), or that I had a lovely night with Singapore Pam last night (with far too much NZ sauvignan blanc), or that I'm off to South Africa at the weekend (and I can't bloody wait)... I'm contemplating the world's highest abseil off Table Mountain. But that probably won't surprise you :o)
What's not good is the lack of personal time I have. A lot of the time I feel exhausted. Or at least drained. I feel tense and like I can't think freely anymore. It's kind of hard to explain but I think my brain got used to having all day every day to process thoughts and emotions and now it doesn't have that luxury and it's creating lots of noise in my head. I'm having vivid dreams and have started waking up at the same time in the wee small hours again. I go straight back to sleep but that's happened before and it's not a good pattern to get in to.
I've said to a lot of people that it seems so wrong to have so little personal time. Not just me personally, but all of us. What are we doing? I get up just before 7am and I'm never home before 7pm. So 12 out of 24 hours are spent on work-related things. You're meant to get eight hours' sleep a night, so out of the 12 hours that's left, if eight are spent sleeping then that leaves four hours. In that time I try and cook, wash up, make packed lunch for the next day and iron an outfit as a minimum. On top of that I normally have calls to make, emails to send and chores to do. Which means that I have absolutely no time to just relax. It's pretty frenetic.
And that pace is set to continue... I've just accepted a six-month contract at a design agency in Covent Garden. They seem like lovely people and it'll be good to have a new challenge. Six months isn't forever but it'll be a good test of the working water. And it might help me make some decisions in the medium to long term. I'll try not to moan and groan about work too much - it is, afterall, my decision to take up this job - so feel free to tell me if I start being too down on life.
I've also been doing some self-analysis and decided that I'm most definitely a control freak. I don't like being out of control. I don't particularly like taking risks. I like to know what's going to happen as a consequence of making a decision. Even though that's impossible. But this explains why not working was freaking me out. I had all these options available to me and I didn't know what to do for the best. I put a lot of pressure on myself to do something extraordinary and not go back to the daily grind. I agonised about what the 'right' thing to do would be. Should I retrain in something completely different - but what would that be? Should I move abroad and escape things here? Should I get a more mundane local job to get me out the house and earning some money? Should I move north? The list goes on...
So my current situation makes me feel a bit happier. A bit more in control. I feel like a decision has been made for me. Although I have to remember to acknowledge that I'm the one who made the decision (I can hear my counsellor's voice in my head). It's funny how it all worked out - a random and lovely recruitment consultant got in touch with me out of the blue on LinkedIn. We met and she put me forward for four interviews. One said no, one offered and two invited me for second interviews. I hadn't even been actively looking for work and here I was with the possibility of three offers if the second interviews went well. It was great for my confidence. I'm also able to acknowledge now that I'm someone who gets off on being liked and loved. So those three thumbs up gave me a big boost. I wasn't being perceived as a widow who hadn't worked for 14 months, but as me; a capable and likeable professional. I need to remember that. I'm still me, despite what's happened. Some bits of me will never ever be the same again, but some bits are exactly the same and will never change.
And here's one final thing I wanted to share: in all of my interviews I was completely and utterly honest. I told them exactly what had happened. I also laid my cards very clearly on the table. I told them my conditions and that no amount of money would sway me if those basic conditions weren't met. I kind of said, 'this is me, this is what I want, take it or leave it'. It made the whole process so much easier. Instead of saying what I thought the interviewer would want to hear, or what I thought I 'should' say, I said what I wanted to say. It was liberating and empowering and I think it earned me some respect. I urge you to give it a go.
Right, that was meant to be a quick update and turned into a download. I haven't even touched on the 10k run I did last weekend (52m56s), or the fact I gave blood last week (and nearly fainted), or that I had a lovely night with Singapore Pam last night (with far too much NZ sauvignan blanc), or that I'm off to South Africa at the weekend (and I can't bloody wait)... I'm contemplating the world's highest abseil off Table Mountain. But that probably won't surprise you :o)
Wednesday 13 October 2010
A sense of perspective
Like many people, the plight of the Chilean miners has moved me to tears. To be stuck underground for so long beggars belief - 69 days. You just can't get your head around it. Their solidarity and cameraderie in light of what they've been through is admirable. The rescue effort is just mind-boggling; they've thought of everything and it's going so well. My floodgates have well and truly opened. It puts so much into perspective.
I find it interesting that so many of the miners have decided to get married as a result of what's happened. T's proposal to me, after 10 happy unmarried years together, was triggered by the London bombings and his uncle dying from cancer. It's funny how it sometimes takes triggers like that to make you realise what it's important in life. And sad too. Why does it have to come to that?
Anyway, I'm so happy that the miners are being rescued. The 33. The age T was. A special number. I can't begin to imagine the hell they've been through. They are brave men. They will live new lives as a result of what they've been through.
I find it interesting that so many of the miners have decided to get married as a result of what's happened. T's proposal to me, after 10 happy unmarried years together, was triggered by the London bombings and his uncle dying from cancer. It's funny how it sometimes takes triggers like that to make you realise what it's important in life. And sad too. Why does it have to come to that?
Anyway, I'm so happy that the miners are being rescued. The 33. The age T was. A special number. I can't begin to imagine the hell they've been through. They are brave men. They will live new lives as a result of what they've been through.
Sunday 3 October 2010
Deep and meaningful
Some things that have inspired me recently. Interestingly, and by pure coincidence, they are kind of both related:
http://www.girleffect.org/share/the-big-picture/the-girl-effect and http://www.girleffect.org/share/the-big-picture/the-girl-effect-ticking-clock
http://blog.thedolectures.co.uk/2010/09/compassion-2/ (Thanks to Molly for forwarding this one on to me.)
And this made me think:
http://blog.thedolectures.co.uk/2010/09/how-big-is-your-but/
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us…Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory… that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
- Marianne Williamson
http://www.girleffect.org/share/the-big-picture/the-girl-effect and http://www.girleffect.org/share/the-big-picture/the-girl-effect-ticking-clock
http://blog.thedolectures.co.uk/2010/09/compassion-2/ (Thanks to Molly for forwarding this one on to me.)
And this made me think:
http://blog.thedolectures.co.uk/2010/09/how-big-is-your-but/
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us…Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory… that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
- Marianne Williamson
Saturday 2 October 2010
Kindred spirits
This interview struck many chords with me. The saying yes to everything. The getting back to life but with many happy and sad memories. The feeling of liberation, of not having anyone else to feel responsible for. That learning how to do things you've always done as two, as one. The bit about a part of you dying when your husband dies. The constant fear that something bad is around the corner.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/tvandradio/7878932/Sheila-Hancock-interview.html
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/tvandradio/7878932/Sheila-Hancock-interview.html
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