Dude, Where’s My Confidence?

My journal entry from last Friday:

My first thought is, how convenient is it that I’m writing this in the black section of my notebook?

I feel so lost and upset, especially this week. I am happy on the outside, but inside I’m sick and want to scream. I feel stuck, and I don’t understand what the problem is.

Firstly, I wonder if its human contact. Since what happened 2 years ago, I am isolated at the office. That, and because I fear what will come out of my mouth is a bunch of bollocks that will embarrass me to no end, so I refrain from being myself. A mime in a glass box. And is it really surreal that I work in the ‘fish bowl’?

Some conversations are really nice, and I want to converse with that person more. Sometimes I find these conversations meet no-ends: what is the point of the covnersation? And at other times I feel like the thing that happened 2 years ago is impeding on me: do they know? Do they care?

I have a feeling that, yes, they do care. And that my problem conversing could be the negative energy from it, and my subsequent resentment. It’s strange that I’m living at the emotional level of high school in my career. So I wonder if I should change jobs. Is this whole feeling/problem/issue worth leaving my job at a bank where ( I think) I have good prospects? Should I embrace what I’ve done, kick it behind me, and move on? Is that even possible? Will people allow it?

And then I think, that even if I did have loads of “work mates” would I feel the same emptiness that I do now? Or would I coast off of the normal highs I get from knowing and/or thinking I’m better than everyone else which, by the way, is one of the core reasons I’m sure why I can’t make friends elsewhere.

I don’t know if its because of the above, or if its just in my nature that I’ve turned into a bit of a hermit. I’m getting a bit sick of sitting on my own, and note that in the past one and a half sentences, I’ve applied mild under-exaggeration. I want to meet people, but when I do, my other half kicks in and wants to become isolated again. For example, at university tutorials, I am happy to go to the first one, and meet people, but subsequently, would prefer never to see these people again. It even gets to the extent where I may become embarrassed that I can’t remember who the person is by face, and then cause offense, or have to speak to so-and-so because they’re Canadian, etc.

So even though I have this love-hate relationship with isolation and wanting to meet people, I wonder if I can even cope, or perhaps if there’s some other underlying issue that I’ve failed to realize. I’ve started, therefore, to think of some extra-curricular activities I would like to undertake: horse back-riding, drawing, running, etc. However, I’m terrified to walk into these classes alone. The soccer I tried 2 years ago was the equivalent of a social disaster: teenagers, lesbians, hooligans, there was no fit. And besides, why should anyone I meet at these extra-curricular activities want to be friends with me anyway? Aren’t they busy with their own lives to act as my emotional crutch, to make me feel better about myself?

And so from here, one would think they need to look out for number one. So where do I start? Let’s start with the obvious (and seriously, I am so anti-social right now, I wish I was in an old man’s pub with classical music playing) – I need to do two things: (1) Take up a new hobby (2) Drop my current hobby (i.e. drinking). Drinking is doing me no good. It’s isolating (because I have no friends) and its making me sick. By taking up the new hobby, I won’t have time to drink. I hope. And this expands on something else on two fronts: (a) Do I hate my job? Otherwise, why do I feel compelled to drink at lunch? and (b) Being physically able to converse with people.

To take the second point first, I reckon I need to approach the new activities with the goal of doing it for myself. Attempting a new hobby for my own pleasure and my own mind. I think that friends will come, but first – and this is revolutionary – I need to get myself to a state where I can be a friend too.

And now about my job: I think I do like my job. Its just the whole relationship issue which has caused a gaping hole in my brain. Because of this, we understand, that if I choose to kill particular people in the office, I would still be pissed off and depressed. Therefore, we all live! 

Serious Procrastination

Instead of writing my university assignment, which is due at 23:59 today (at the latest), I have decided to come here and write a blog post about how badly I don’t actually want to write the bloody thing. It is procrastination, laziness, the willingness to do anything but write this assignment.

Its not even that the assignment is on a bad topic – well, considering I’ve practically been brainwashed into thinking that the topic decision-making is actually very interesting. The question asks me to summerise Pettigrew’s idea of politics in decision-making, and the implications it therefore has.

I have all the notes prepared, know exactly what to do, but feel like I’m on a cliff preparing for my first bungee jump, or readying myself to parachute out of a plane – I’m ready, I can do it, I just don’t want to do it.

Currently I’m reading a fantastic book by A.J. Jacobs The Year of Living Biblically One Man’s Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible. I find myself attempting to follow the Ten Commandments as carefully as possible, instead of writing my university assignment.

Yesterday, I did a Google search for my new favorite author, and found this. Was it wrong to consider hiring my own Indian army to write my assignment? At $1,000 a month, it seemed like a reasonable price to pay.

However now that I have approximately 13 hours and 45 minutes to write the blasted thing, I consider that perhaps I should stop writing here and just damn well get on with it.

Shall we?

So I Just Thought…

Fuck it, you know?

I’ve tried contemplating, talking, writing in a journal, running.

And in the end, it all goes to the blog – besides, this blog title is sick right? I mean – Yield to Maturity : 8.762% is not only a great return on a portfolio…

So I’m back.

Hi!

Unlocked

The weirdest thing has happened.

I’m happy.

I feel like butter (and I don’t care if its margerine) is floating through my soul.

And I like it.

My whole world has melted around me.

Free.

For the past one and a half years I have felt locked in a prison.

But its weird.

I can’t explain it. But I like it. I love it.

Valerie

Mom, I miss you. x

Sandwich, Nuclear Plants, and OAPs

This morning, at 6am, my boyfriend poked me. I am not a morning person, so I snarled in my sleep, hoping he would get the message and well, fuck off. But instead he poked me again and uttered four glorious words that could only matter to a person who was utterly skint: You got paid today. Obviously I couldn’t hide the smile that crossed my lips. 

Two and a half hours later, my builder called to inform me he would be arriving ’shortly’ to check out some weird leak our bathroom radiator was having – he called it wheeping – which creeped me out enough.

Having sorted that, cleaned up a bit, and dressed, we headed out on the English road with one thought: Sandwich is supposed to be awesome.

No. This is not with regards to a Homer Simpson, 25 foot long sandwich. This is with regards to the place. Sandwich, Kent. Apparently, it’s supposed to be rather, well…wicked.

Having arrived on the road towards Broadstairs, past a small airport and the familiar nuclear power plant that was always been the deciding factor as to whether we’d actully move to Broadstairs – we started heading towards said powerplant, in a nervous disposition. It doesn’t matter that my boyfriend is Ukrainian by the way, in case you’re wondering. 

We arrived at a set of red lights, about fifty feet away from three cooling stacks and a dismembered electrical-converison facility – or whatever the hell you could call it – and blew out a massive sigh of relief: Today we wouldn’t die from nuclear implosion.

This is the closest I’ve ever been to a nuclear power plant. In Canada I was sure that at least the west bought most of its elecricity from the States, and that only the East was liberal enough to have death plants. It was rather surreal to see it so close, and not so surprising to see that the surronding landscape was dark, hollow, and well…dead. Thus, we entered. 

Supposdly, Sandwich is a nice area of Kent. Just off the coast, it was one of five major ports (obviously it no longer is one) to which King Henry III recieved an elephant from the King of France. A rather strange animal at the time, it was walked to the only zoo in England, at the Tower of London (about 110 miles away), where during the journey, it killed a bull by just looking at it. So there mice!

The town has a very large Dutch appeal having been a town that Queen Elizabeth I allowed the Dutch to settle in: there are a lot of windmills nearby. I love the Dutch.

Lastly, and I know you’re just dying to know: yes, the sandwich you eat everyday is apparently as a result of the 4th Earl of Sandwich, thus, you’d expect the town itself to be fucking awesome. 

Not so.

Maybe it was the weather: a warm five degrees Celcius (in a dry climate this is equivalent to -10), or the presence of the Pflizer factory and offices (makers of Viagra), but the town itself was rather – meagre and vacant. Nevertheless, I got a couple nice shots of the locality:

And, in total appreciation to the purpose of Sandwich, I bought a brie and cranberry toastie on the way home, 25% of which was shared with wild shih tzus who were completely and utterly appreciated by the OAPs (Old Age Pensioners – according to Gordon Brown) of south eastern England. So an overall successful day, this one thinks.

Yeah, Your Sex is On Fire

This is for my North American friends – which is the majority – but still.

I hear, and know, your inundane with shit music these days. So herewith, some excellent tunes for your ears because seriously, enough with Rhianna and other music dictated by 90201 kiddies. Start a revolution my friends.

1) KINGS OF LEON (3.5 out of 5 stars – recommend buy if you’ve got extra cash)

A band introduced by my dance music loving boyfriend, I was rather skeptical at first. On the train into work, he nudged me. A little irritated, as I was engulfing The Economist, he stuck his right ear bud into my ear and I listened. I almost died on the first track: Use Somebody. I wanted to instantly start swinging my shoulders, and nodding my head in the carriage, but thought better of it as it was 7:48 in the morning. He changed the track, not knowing how into the previous one I was, to Sex on Fire, and I could barely contain myself. The Kings of Leon is therefore highly recommended, especially their new album Only By The Night:

(Yes ladies, I know you’ve just had multiple orgasms over the lead singer voice, and I apologise to your blokes in advance!!!)

2) Keane (5 out of 5 stars – fucking forget Starbucks, you need to get this album N-O-W)

Having bought the first album, I was a bit weary of the second as it was, in my opinion, too school boy Catholic. I was blown away however, by the band’s new adventurism into drums and bass in Perfect Symmetry. Insubquentially introduced by Spiralling, a song that does cause me to dance like a total moron in the train carriage at 7:48am, and vocally shout ‘OOOH!’ to many a business man’s irritation, I still don’t care and therefore am completely engulfed. Not many songs do this to me, and a friend can advocate.

Previously I selected two songs for Kings of Leon. For Keane’s new album I can do the same, however it doesn’t do the album complete justice. If you like the following two tracks, I whole-heartedly recommend you buy the full album, you will not be let down.

(I will totally be using the lyrics for Spiralling for my annual review at work.)

3) Adele (5 out of 5 stars – One for the ladies, this album is better then cake)

This girl completely melts my heart, and is a hundred times than Duffy – I mean, listen to that voice!!!!. She’s also a complete role model to our young ladies out there – none of this Amy Whinehouse shit, they should be listening to Adele – a girl with talent, heart and purpose. Not vodka, heroin and discontent. Honestly!

My guy is still not completely woo’d. Probably because the last time I played Adele (19), it was on full blast, and he was tired. Men with over-indulgence of estrogen whilst driving seems to be a bad mix. Just a little FYI. But seriously, if I’m having a bad day at work, I crank up Adele, and feel a million times better – especially in an all-male office. Adele overtakes dick any day. Sorry, it’s true!!!

So there you have it, the top three artists you should be into right now. If you have any that I should be tuning into, do let me know!

My Favorite Place

The shih tzus race out of the car in anticipation. Of course, we checked that there wouldn’t be any cars around as you could hear the boys bubbling with anticipation, 20 miles back.

We exit the car, in the rain, our rain-gear buttoned and zipped up, hoods on, and walk into the forest of Tunbridge Wells.

This is the dogs favorite place, and therefore mine. Golden leaves litter the forest floor in their millions, saving us from entrenched mud, and we walk along, the dogs hopping and bouncing – skipping – even, as they frollick through the last of the autumn leaves.

We didn’t bring our camera due to the rain, and weren’s as disappointed by such as the clouds hung over the English countryside like a warm quilt.

We walked for miles, down one forest path, meeting labrador puppies, sheep dogs and such, our guys covered in mud, and other dog owners smiling at us, and us at them, knowing how much fun the dogs are having, rolling around in the November mud. Up a hill we climb, and down a particularly muddy path, we turn to see one shih tzu in mud up to his beard. Unsurprised, we call him out, and he sprints forward, grabbing his brother by the tail, and the two roll and tumble through the mud, to the end of the path, where its finally time to go home.

This is my favorite place. This is what I will think about when times are tough. My best friend told me I should do this, therefore this post is dedicated to her.

Too Close For Comfort

When you’ve had enough of the work week, and already had a sick day, or two or three, the best way to play a bit of hookie is to roll in late because of public transportation problems. Along with good old PMS, you’re boss really can’t have a go at you if you’re train was delayed because someone was thrown onto the tracks.

One problem however is the dilemma of public transportation delays when your boss’s train station is the one before yours. So really, he would know if someone was thrown on the tracks that morning. Therefore, as I walked into the office at 9:04am, I didn’t really have a lot going for me:

Him: I thought you were going to start being here at 8:30am.

Pathetic Me: Yes, my train was badly delayed, I was going to catch the 8:12am train, but it was delayed by 20 minutes. Apparently someone was sick on the train at London Bridge.

His Thoughts: Oh right – the train was 20 minutes late – just like her bus was 20 minutes late causing her to miss her flight.

Him: My train was fine.

My Pathetic Thoughts: Oh shit. He thinks I’m lying.

Pathetic Me: So. What time did you get your train at?

Him: Well, when I saw the next train was going to be very delayed, I caught the train before it because I didn’t want to be late for our Portfolio Management meeting this morning.

His Thoughts: Fucking idiot forgot we had a meeting today.

My Pathetic Thoughts: Oh Fucking Shit we have a meeting today!

So what is the solution here?

I’ve already confirmed to a colleague that for my flight to Amsterdam at the end of the month, I would be sleeping in the airport over night. However, with how well transportation is going for me these days, the flight will probably be cancelled. Just like my train last night, and the night before and the whole debacle this morning.

Timeline of I

05:30

I woke up absolutely gasping for water, and praying that it was 3am. No doubt it wasn’t – in fact it was the same time that I had woken the previous night in order to catch the flight, that I missed. Getting up, rather upset, I went downstairs to down an entire glass of water and headed back to bed, after changing my alarm from 06:30 to 07:15.

06:30

Boyfriend wakes up, grabs his laptop and starts working. I shudder knowing I only have 45 minutes of sleep left, despite how tired I was. Also knowing that I had to face my boss in two hours – having missed my flight the previous day, and being sick the day before that, I knew I was in for hell.

08:00

Legged it out the door, and caught the lazy bus to work. It was on time, surprisingly, after being 20 minutes late yesterday, therefore causing me to miss my flight to Amsterdam. I noticed the driver was the same, and thought about stuffing a croissant up his nose. I thought better of it. 

08:25

Stoked I got a seat on the train, I start reading the Economist, all about Obamarama – my favorite subject. Interesting how the Economist switched factions so easily however, I note. Girl next to me is Asian, and whips out a pallete of lip gloss – there are 10 different shades of pink. She recently cut the palm of her left hand, where stiches are visible – 6 in total. She applies vaseline to it.

09:05

Train finally pulls into Cannon Street. It was a long journey where it should usually take us 15 minutes, but the train stopped at every station on the way. I didn’t mind. Thought of getting a Starbucks on the way in, but accounting for the time, and the ineffective Red Bull I’d had, I thought better of it. Having missed my flight and all.

09:20

Arrive in office and the boss isn’t there. Interesting. Wished I’d gotten Starbucks.

10:00 

Having trawled all my blogs, updated Twitter, and considered my own sickness (hungover), decided to head to Starbucks at 10:30, after getting some shit done.

10:35

Head to Starbucks to get the legendary Grande Skinny Gingerbread Latte, hold the cream as I’m not feeling that shit today. Chick in front of me is given a latte when she’s ordered a cappuchino. ‘Its too creamy’ she moans. And I roll my eyes. She asks for more coffee to be added. The barrista does so, and I think he’s a fucking moron. She takes a sip. She sighs, and asks for a little bit more skim milk. I hear my patience hit the roof, and so does she, as she turns to apologise. I wonder if she saw me roll my eyes again, and then don’t care as I feel like fucking death. Finally she fucks off, and I get my coffee. First thought: It’s heavy. For a latte. I count my luck, because sometimes lattes feel as light as a feather, and head back to the office. As soon as I see my arch nemisis, I sip my coffee, realise its a MOTHERFUCKING MOCHACHINO with gingerbread, turn on my heel, and head back to this prestigous establishment. On the way, I wonder if I should rip off the barristas head: praying mantis style. But I get my shit together, tell them politely, yet stearnly that they made me a MOTHERFUCKING MOCHACHINO. CAN’T YOU READ THE ‘L’ FOR LATTE? CAN YOU READ AT ALL? YOU FUCKING IDIOT!!!!!! Ahem. Sorry. So I get my proper coffee, and move on.

12:45

I head over to the bookshop which is my sanctuary when I’m not feeling so well, and try to look out for a book that a friend recommended. Knowing that this is England, and therefore awesome US books are not stocked here, I notice a book that takes my interest straight away. Called ‘The Healthiest Meals on Earth’ it stipulates a number of recipies that are meant to not only add nutritional value, but also prevent all the core diseases that we all fear dying from.

This is something that’s been bothering me for a long time: with drinking, eating loads of sugar, takeaways, etc., this book cannot do me harm. So I plan on taking it on, with a detox to preempt it, starting next week. I forecast excellent results, and of course, I will let you all know how it goes. And if any of the recipies are good, I will post them here – because THAT’S HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU.

14:35

My boss came back from his business lunch, and I was actually happy to see him.

15:40

Went for a wander: mainly toilet and glass of water, and was pulled into helping set-up for the memorial service the office was due to serve. Basically, a good, longtime friend and employee passed away suddenly in October and the entire office, plus our head office, was heart broken. The colleague had worked for our company for 16 years, and was one of the nicest guys. So we all thought to throw a memorial service for him, with memorable anecdotes of his awesomeness. It turned out really well, and we’ve all gone home humbled, especially since after his death one month ago, he’s saved five lives and enabled two people to see. I always felt unsettled by the idea of having my organs go forward, should something happen to me. But honestly, after seeing what my friend has done, I would be more than honored to do the same. I will always hold a place in my heart for him.

19:15

Was overtaken by shih tzu loveliness, and ready to wind down and be thankful for everything – especially how today had turned out. Thank goodness tomorrow is Friday!!!