It's the little things that count

I spilled my coffee this morning, on the table and a little on myself. Is it serendipity that I wore dark today? Fortunately my reaction was an audible ‘Oh shit” instead of “Oh fuck!” (No, I’m not repressed, there’s just a certain appropriateness of time and place to follow). My neighbour turned around and said with a straight face, “Jackie, do you need a bib?”

That made me laugh and laugh before I answered with a resounding “Yes!” For all her flaws that girl sometimes has spot on humour.

So I hurried to the bathroom, to clean up the mess. I took one long look at myself, heaved many sighs and it dawned on me what my response should have been:

“I don’t need a bib, I need a bed and the rest of the week off”

The thing about working with sales people is that while they’re not the most hardworking of people, their social skills livens the environment and lifts the stress every now and then.

Strangely though, now I feel ready to face the week ahead.

I hope it lasts.

(In case you didn’t get it, the thing that counts is laughter)

The creative juices: Watch them flow

Hm.

I was going to write about work then thought the better of it since it’s a little too close to home (i.e. it would positively identify me. Yes, still that paranoid).

So I’m exploring other possible topics, like for instance:

1. How Not to be Mundane.
   
   (Hm, nope. Nada. Zilch. No ideas.)

2. My Exciting Weekend!!!
   
   (Err…I’d have to lie for this one. And just looking at the exclamation marks wears me out)

3. The Art of Zen.
   
   (ah hah hah hah hah! Someone stop me before I bust a blood vessel!)

4. Three Easy Steps to Growing Your Bank Balance.
   
   (Step 1: Rob The Bank.)
   
   

5. ………*I’m thinking damnit!*
   
   
   

Arghh! To hell with it, I’m going to sleep.

Work

It’s been a slow week and this marks the first time I’ve ever seen my calendar scarcely populated since I started work here about a month plus ago. And even though I’ve worked late a few times this week, it was to do re-work on past proposals, nothing new and exciting. In a way it’s been a good break from the usual hectic schedule. It’s given me the opportunity to hang out a little and get to know the new colleagues. They’re an amiable bunch. I foresee good working relationships being formed.

Work-wise, it’s been a pretty steep learning curve. Most of what I’m being thrown into now is completely new to me. It’s both good and bad. Good because the room to grow is virtually limitless and bad because often it can be so overwhelming sometimes that I end up feeling like a drowned rat (and often end up looking like one too!).

But at least I know I don’t regret anything, and that is enough for now.

Update: That was written sometime late last week. As of now, work has piled up with several looming deadlines in the near horizon. That’s how quick things change. And even though I won’t be back to work till Wednesday, the thought of checking my email & calendar when I do, makes me shudder.

“Make no sudden movements, and no one will get hurt”

I long for escape. The blessed ability to let go. Release from having to be someone I no longer recognize. The silencing of the disquieting voices. Relief from sudden, unexplainable anger. The end to all this melodrama. Blissful blankness.

I am so tired.

From the push and pull. From the up and down. The brief peaks, the debilitating lows.
(Rinse and Repeat: the only thing that’s constant)

Can you be divided and yet expect not to rip yourself apart?

How far must you run from yourself before you realize you haven’t budged an inch?

I did this.

(and I think I’m losing it)

Deja vu

While I was having breakfast this morning, a woman with her back to me arrested my attention. Truthfully, it wasn’t her at first, it was her killer boots: burgundy leather with towering heels (what can I say? I am true to my gender sometimes).

But as I checked out the rest of her, I was struck by the way she held herself, in a self-possessed watchful stillness, like she was in a world of her own, so ‘zen’ that she’d become one with her surroundings, neither affecting it, nor being affected by it. The immediate thought that leapt into my head was that she was not just obviously alone, but lonely.

I was ashamed at the thought, of how easy it had been to judge until I realized what drew me to that conclusion. You see, what she reminded me most of, was me. I was her. And when I was her, I was not aware of carrying my loneliness around like a brand on my forehead. I thought it was secret only I knew. I thought I gave the impression of being a girl, self-confident and independent enough to be totally comfortable being out on her own. It was also what I thought of other women whom I saw alone.

So why do I think otherwise now? Is it that having been there, I’m now more adept at detecting this mask in others? Or have I become the very thing I detest? I pray it’s the former.