Tomorrow is a new day

Image from My Status 360

It’s probably a bad idea to write a blog post when you’re cross, and I am cross today. Its been another fun filled day in the office and I’ve completely fallen out with myself. About 45 minutes after going in, I wanted to turn on my heel and go back out, but I didn’t have the balls.

It’s fitting I suppose that I should feel like this, because I’ve finally stopped wondering what I am going to do with my blog. After much pondering, humming and haaahing I’ve decided I’m going to do nothing. Nothing drastic anyway.

This blog is important for me, especially on days like today where I need to stop, sit down and have a serious fucking think about where my life is going.

You see if it wasn’t for this space and it’s blank pages, I probably wouldn’t talk about the veritable storm that goes on between my ears. Instead I’d dwell, ponder and make mountains out of molehills. More so than I do normally.

I’m not the same person I was four years ago when I started this blog and it’s unlikely that I ever will be again, so I need to stop pretending to be someone I am not and embrace who I am becoming instead.

In order to do that I need to be able to write everything and about all parts of me. When I started blogging and chose to be anonymous, things were a lot easier, but when people from real life started to find out my words became stifled. So much so that despite the fact that my mind was awash with ideas, many posts remained in my head unwritten.

In reality I like to think that sometimes I can be funny, but I am hounded by anxiety and I have no doubt that often times depression nips at my heels. So I suppose in essence that means there are two sides to me, on one hand we have the public persona and on the other we have the private one. Although both are very different, when they are put together they make up the person I am.

I need and want to be able to express myself on this blog, and going forward that is something I am going to try to do. I don’t need anyone to worry about me. I find writing extremely therapeutic, it helps me to put things into perspective and sort them out. I don’t write for sympathy and nor do I want sympathy. I’m not the only person in the world with problems and this wonderful community proves that. We work and we support each other and for me that is the real beauty behind blogging.

So, you’re stuck with me for a while longer. I’ve decided to take you on my journey of discovery. It’s all about finding out who I am, what’s going on in that wonky top box of mine and how I sort it out.

Some days there will be tears and some days there will be laughter, but that’s all part of life isn’t it, we have to take the good with the bad.

Thank you so much for being here for the last however many years, months or days you have followed, I have no doubt I have received more from this community than I have given and I feel truly blessed to be a part of it.

To celebrate and as a present to myself, I finally mapped my domain name, I doubt you will have noticed, but it’s just something small that makes things a little more permanent for me.

Also, excluding social media followers, one of my goals was always to reach 1000 followers on WordPress itself. At the time of writing this post there are 998. I’ve decided that’s good enough because in life I am never really quite where I want to be, but it doesn’t stop me trying anyway.

Just over four years ago I had nothing, just some words on a page and no followers. Now I am a part of something I love, and I hope that continues for a long time.

P.s I’m not cross any more :)

Mid Week Musings

Normally I am not a fan of the sunshine, but today it feels nice.

I’ve been feeling rubbish this last few days, it resulted in me being sent home sick on Friday, in fact being driven home. The whole corridor hearing me huey was definitely not a highlight of my career and not something I’d like to repeat either. Those toilets are very fecking low.

Aside from the vomiting there was this overwhelming sense of tiredness. I got into bed on Friday and slept away the whole day. Clearly I needed it, but man I was pissed, I had so many things I wanted to do at the weekend. As a consequence nothing got done, but hey shit happens, literally.

Lamenting my lost weekend I returned to work yesterday. It was fine once I got over the initial anxiety of returning.

It’s hard to believe that in just a few short weeks Summer will be over and the kids will be returning to school. It’s been so busy in work I hardly saw the time pass and virtually no days off has meant there has been very little merriment as well. Look at me pretending I’m all exciting and stuff.

I like September and getting out and about while it’s still relatively nice but the roads are perhaps not as busy. I’ll have to try and talk the Fathership into some adventures.

For now though it’s about knuckling down and getting things finished. It’s going to mean the loss of a few more weekends but it needs to be done. I can’t wait until my new work colleague is able to cover for a couple of days so I can avail of some leave, she managed great when I was sick so we’re on the right track.

I’m still thinking about the blog and what I’m going to do with it. I’ve read a few posts this week from people who have, for one reason or another, decided to call time on their blogs. I wonder sometimes if it is a stage we all go through, where what we started no longer becomes fit for purpose. I love my blog, but I’m not the same person I was 4 years ago when I began.

Each day I worry that there are not enough ideas in my wonky top box to keep me going, but somehow I still manage to make posts, so I guess that’s something right!?

Well my stop is next, unbeknownst to you, you were on my journey to work with me, that said you’ll not be reading this until my journey home, which is when I will have time to badly proof read and publish it.

I hope your day was a good one Eejits :)

All the small things

I feel like I’ve been struggling a bit of late. Struggling to keep on top of my mental well-being, which in turn has resulted in an inability to write.

In the face of competing demands I just seem to shut down. I’d been trying to juggle too many things and the pressure was beginning to show. I was starting to dread going to work because I wasn’t sure I could cope with any more of the curve balls it had to throw at me.

I was worried about other things I needed to complete outside of work and how I was going to get the time to get them done.

I was tired. I am tired.

I was forgetting though that I am just one person. I can’t do everything all at once and I deserve time for myself without feeling guilty about it.

Its so easy when the pressures on to forget about the little things and the little things are actually very important.

Like the fact that I love my new work colleague, in fact all my colleagues. I love how she gets my sense of humour and work aside it’s like she’s always been there. She fits in.

I love that I feel comfortable with these people and that they can turn my frown upside down.

I love my friends, who without knowing I’m feeling the darkness give me something to brighten it, in the form of an empty gin bottle and a rechargable string of lights. Like I said, small things mean a lot.

I need to not forget these things, because they make this life what it is. It’s far from perfect, but for every low there is a high, we just need to acknowledge that.

So……

Hey, how’s tricks? 

See what I did there? I’m deflecting, putting the onus on you to start a conversation because I have nothing to say, literally nothing. 

I keep feeling like I should write. I want to write. But I’ve got zip, just dead space between my ears, a whole shit load of nowt. 

I buy too much stationary,  because when I’m in a funk it makes me feel better. It used to be shoes and handbags, but I can’t afford them anymore, mainly because I bought too many when I could. I would do a car boot sale, but I’d be one of those people who’d look longingly at my stuff and then squirrel it away on the promise that I’d sell it next time. 

So here I am with all this stationary and still I have nothing. What’s the point of the pen and the notebook I ask myself if I’ve no words to fill the pages with. 

I could tell you what’s going on in my head, but most of the time I don’t know myself. It’s a scarey place in there and not somewhere even I want to willingly go. 

I could tell you what’s going on in my life, but apart from work and my recent addiction to Game of Thrones there isn’t much else. A lot of the time it feels like the world is moving forward and I’m standing on the sidelines watching it go by. 

So, what do you do when you’ve got nothing. Well you do what I just did and waffle whatever is in your head hoping that the people who are crazy enough to read your blog forgive you and understand that normality, whatever that is, will one day return. 

I feel like a fence. I need to get over myself, shut the gate on my insecurities and just write!

Big Up Your Blog!

Ritu explains it better than I could.
Suzie has created a wonderful place, I’ve met some great people.
Why not check it out for yourself :)

But I Smile Anyway...

Want to be part of an absolutely amazing Facebook group of bloggers?

Want to have supportive blog pals at the end of the ether, sharing and commenting on your posts?

Want to grow your social media following genuinely?

Want to showcase your posts to some individuals who actually do care?

Well then, you need to click here to get directed to the Facebook group Big Up Your Blog!

Amazing blogger Suzie, of Suzie Speaks, set up this group at the tail end of last year, and really gave it a huge push this year.

Without it, I wouldn’t have learned of the beauty of Flipboard, Pinterest, StumbleUpon, Instagram and Twitter when it comes to sharing your blog posts!

There is a wonderful community of bloggers on there who get together on various days of the week, to share, or comment on your selected posts. There are opportunities to promote your…

View original post 361 more words

It’s been five years! 

We were having a chat in work today and my wonky leg came up in conversation, mainly because it’s being a bitch. I’ve only just realised, while pondering life on the train home, that today is the 5th anniversary of my accident.

I hate being in pain, I often remark that from the waist down I need to be erased and then redrawn. I have one knee with a knee cap displacement (unless its moved since it’s last MRI) and one with three holes drilled in it to facilitate a severed tendon being reattached. If I were my knees I’d feckin hate me. Most days I know they do hate me.

I have a feeling the pain is only going to get worse, but I was warned of this, so it’s not like it’s a surprise or anything. I continue my exercises even though the pain now shoots to my hip. I try not to curse when my leg gives out for no reason and I try not to cry on the nights I’ve had to stand for long periods of time and the pain is unbearable. I’m getting old. It sucks. But it’s life.

I’ve quit smoking, it’s bad for the cartlidge that remains in my knees.

I’m eating healthier, to try and lessen the load that the sisters grim have to carry.

I will exercise, but I can’t right now until this current flare up of pain passes. This has been the worst one in a while.

I’m working on not blasting out ‘ya feckin fecker’ when my knee gives way and I jolt my back to keep myself upright. I’ve actually done this on a crowded platform, it’s extremely embarrassing.

I’m still walking, and that’s a blessing because when I initially found out I had severed my patellar tendon from my kneecap, my anxiety ridden brain had me convinced my life was over. It wasn’t.

It’s certainly different. There are things I miss, like full mobility. I hate cleaning the inside of cupboards, but now I wish I was able to. I hate not being able to walk down stairs unaided and I hate that I look like that the poster ‘Evolution of ape to man’ when I go from a sitting to a standing position.

This post is a reminder and a celebration.

It’s a reminder that things can change in a heartbeat and never be the same again, but that they could always be worse. I think of some of my friends, both in real life and here who are dealing with pain and sickness on a daily basis, but doing it with humour and grace.

It’s a celebration of coming out the other side and knowing that despite the fact that there is pain, there’s still life.

There’s more to be thankful for than not.

Happy birthday Alien Leg : )

 

Grabbing a coffee

This is me, tired little me, drinking coffee from the cup that my kind colleague got me for my birthday last week, whilst travelling on the train to face another exciting day at work. 

In real life I am wearing the same kind of loopy, at the end of my tether expression. It’s been a long week, in fact it’s been a long two months but hopefully there is hope on the horizon. 

I’ve been working extra hours and weekends to try and keep up with work since my colleague left in April. If you didn’t notice that I wasn’t around as much don’t worry, just lament the fact that you didn’t enjoy the peace and quiet while you had the chance. 

There’s been few days off apart from the two when we went to Donegal and one that replaced a lost weekend day and it’s starting to tell on both me and my house which hasn’t been getting the love and attention it deserves. 

This weekend is going to be another hectic one sadly, so in fact there most likely won’t be a weekend at all as I have to attend things planned each day that will most likely extend into the night. I’m going to struggle, firstly because I am going to have to people, but secondly because I’m going to get no down time and no time to unwind. 

I would just love one weekend of peace and quiet, just me, where I don’t have to do anything for anyone else and that includes cooking and cleaning! 

Monday my new colleague arrives, so that in itself is going to bring another set of challenges, like training and learning and sorting. She’s a lovely girl and I instantly liked her so that’s a positive, but I need to shield  her from being bombarded until she gets to grips with things. I don’t want her running for the hills on the first day. 

I’m nervous because it’s been so long since I trained anyone for anything. I’m not very good at taking charge, I’m more of a sheep than a shepherd, so it will be a learning curve for us both. 

No one likes change, but it still comes whether we like it or not. I’m trying to think ahead and console meself that there may be stability in my future, and days off. Days off would be lovely.

I just need to make it through the next few weeks. 

How have things been in your world?

The Devil made me do it!

Of late I’ve been picking random posts of my site to read. Mainly because I want to see if my writing has improved any at all. I used to love the What If? Challenge and tried to come up with something fun and quirky each week. This was one of my favourites, so in a fit of nostalgia, I am going to repost it.

I left the original details in so you get the idea what the challenge was. This was written in 2013, I wish my little brain could still think like this!


whatifwww2

This weeks Whatif? Challenge

What if you let your dark side take over?

An unfortunate event has allowed the Devil to own your soul. He has decided to give you a chance to get it back but to win it you must bring a smile to the Devil’s face with your actions. He allows you to have one full day in which you can do anything your heart desires without fear of consequences, retaliation, retribution or prosecution.

An unusual turn of events indeed. I have been pondering this one for a few days, well since Sunday, when the challenge went up. No one willingly wishes to court the Devil, so the conundrum is, how best to tackle this unfortunate event and in fact turn it to your advantage.

The Devil dislikes my body, he has no option but to use it as a host, so will spend endless hours fashioning it into a more visually pleasing and competent, super human vessel. Even without the option of choice, I will secretly marvel at my new svelte frame and flowing strawberry blond (gingerish) locks, some things it seems just cannot be amended. From the array of clothes that my new figure opens the opportunity of, I will select a black all in one jumpsuit, that clings to every curve and makes both womens and men’s heads turn. “Who are you?” they will say, awed by my presence and I shall reply, “I am the Ginga Ninja, remember my name, for it will be the ruination of many.”

Black Widow

The Devil turns his gaze from me, just for a few minutes. It seems his addiction to Starbucks coffee is just the same as any mortals. His lapse in concentration affords me the chance to substitute the list of victims he has provided, with my own.

He bids me farewell, a wry smile on his face.  It would appear he does indeed derive great pleasure from a soul in torment. I have 3 hours in which to perform 3 kills, if I am to make the Devil smile and regain my soul.

11.59 am

I slip into an apartment block just west of Sudsly Avenue. It is run down and dingy. Rats scuttle at my feet as I read the names on the mail boxes. Smiling, I mentally note the number and proceed to climb the stairs, mumbling about the fact that his nibs did not consider flying as an option, when it could have been so helpful. Stubborn bloody man.

Two henchmen guard the door, but they are no match for the Ginga Ninja and I quickly dispense of them and hide their bodies in the broom cupboard, giggling to myself about the cliché of it all.

True to his form, Bubbles the Beast McGinn is in the bath. It takes him a minute to realise I am there. “My boss sent me” I say. I am instantly recognizable as soulless, so I am not surprised by the look of shock on his face as I push his head below the water, holding it there until the beast bubbles no more.

12.45 pm

Lunchtime – Kentucky Fried Chicken for a Boneless Banquet for One – Gravy as the side. What ffs??? A girls gotta eat. This assassination lark is not easy and besides my feet are killing me in these high heeled boots!

2.30 pm

Destination downtown Dumpsville. A laundromat on the corner of Persil Place. The sign in the window asks for young female workers, promising good benefits and competitive rates of pay. Rita the Rinser has been using the same ploy for years to lull young girls into her lair. She promises them the earth before she drugs them and sells them on as either prostitutes or slaves. I spy her loading washing into a huge clanking machine and quick as lightening I am behind her. Again she can sense I am soulless and visibly relaxes, that is until I whisper in her ear, “My boss sent me” and push her headlong into the machine, setting it for boil wash.

3.05 pm

A quick call into Manicures for the Mighty. I need to look in pristine condition for my next job, the last on my list.

3.45 pm

A prestigious fashion house. In full stealth mode I hitch a ride to the top floor hidden in a rack of clothes. I see my prey hunched over, pencil in hand, sketching out the new seasons trends. Saying not a single word I snap his neck like a twig.

4.15 pm

Grabbing a Starbucks I head back to ‘Satan’s Shack’ a prestigious gambling establishment I know he with the horns frequents. Sure enough, there he is surrounded by women and being fawned over by men. I step forward and offer the Starbucks.

Me: “I’m all finished, can I have my soul back please?”

Devil: “Why would you even ask such a stupid question, you have just killed two of my most loyal staff members, how could you ever imagine this would please me.”

Me: “I thought you knew everything ffs. Every night those two pray to God to forgive them for theirs sins. Every night their excuse is the same, ‘the devil made me do it’. In the end they were going to be detrimental to your business, and besides you’re going to save a fecking fortune on bubbles and soap powder.”

Devil: (sniggers) “Dam, you made me laugh, and by the terms of our agreement I must give you back your soul. Get out of my sight, I never wish to lay eyes on you again.”

Me: “Suits me. Any chance I can keep the body till the morning though?”

Devil: “GET OUT!!”

I figure my svelte figure could disappear at any second, so I decide to make as much as I can of the little time I have left and head to my local pub ‘The Pearly Gates’. Peter my favourite barman is on and after greeting me with a smile he pushes a pint of water across the bar to me.

Peter: “Busy day huh?”

Me: “Sure was. Is the boss happy?”

Peter: “Delighted, he’s been after those two for a while, however he did mention the fact that you deviated from the original plan and added in an extra assassination. There were only meant to be two.”

Me: “Yeah I know,”

Peter: “So enlighten me. The first two I can understand, but the third one has left me a little confused as well.”

Me: (shrugs shoulders) It was just for fun, and pretty simple really, the devil wears Prada.

 

 

Self confidence or arrogance? 

I have no self confidence. 

Some of my work colleagues would probably not believe you if you told them this fact about me. Others who work with me closely are all to aware.

One of my hopes when I attended counselling was that I would be able to have a better understanding of myself and my lack of self confidence. In some ways I did, but I am in no way cured and every day is a battle that sometimes I’m just to tired to fight.

I will continue to try and see myself in a more positive light, but if I do, I want to make sure I am careful of this new responsibility, because I am genuinely curious as to when self confidence becomes arrogance, or even if it does at all.

I’m never going to be one of those people who walks into a party straight to the centre. I’m more of a sneak in and skirt along the sidelines until I find a group of people I feel comfortable with type of person. That kind of confidence I would love, the ability to walk into a room and not feel like every head has turned to scrutinise me.

Now please don’t think I’m being judgemental, because I am honestly not, it’s just that by not having any, I simply don’t understand how the concept of self confidence works and I am genuinely curious.

For example, if I sent you a picture of myself with the caption ‘Look at me, am I not just the most amazing person you have ever seen’, would you class that as self confidence or arrogance?

Just for the record, I’m not ever likely to utter a sentence like that, and if I ever did, I would fully expect you to give me a clip round the ear and ask me who the hell I thought was.

Or if I sent you a picture with the caption ‘I’m gorgeous aren’t I, I bet you wish you could be me.’ Is that self confidence or arrogance?

I read things sometimes and depending on my mood I either think, wow I wish I was brave enough to make a statement like that, or I think, seriously dude, did you just say that.

I do get there is a wider debate around this topic, because more than looks will make a person awesome. I mean I’m ugly as sin, but I make you chuckle sometimes, right!?!?

I’ve had little experience of online dating, mainly because any time I gave it a try it turned into a disaster, but if the intended object of your affection came out with statements like the above, would you give them a chance or skip on by?

I’m genuinely interested to hear your views, or to have you correct me if I’m barking up the wrong tree.

P.s I am NOT online dating, I’m only using it as an example :) I’ve enough feckin trouble lookin after the Fathership!

P.p.s I have never said what I used as my two examples, but they are messages that have been sent to me!

Weekend Wonderings

I seem to go through little periods of thinking. I shouldn’t think, it’s bad for me.

Every now and then I will question my need for this blog or where I fit into the so called blogsphere. I don’t have a niche as such, I’m more a bits and pieces of everything.

When starting I suppose my intention was to be a humour blog, but then life changed and all the humour kinda got sucked out of it and me. I’d still like to think I am marginally funny, or at least working my way back to that point. But as a wise man once said, self praise is no recommendation.

I think I have changed since I started writing way back in 2013, I’m not sure if it is for the better. Somewhere along the line while looking for someone to adult I realised that it was actually me, I was supposed to be the adult, well that was a steep learning curve I tell ya. Someone needs to write one of those yellow books entitled ‘The Idiots Guide to Adulting’. I could certainly have made use of it.

I did grow up, I dealt with seriously injuring my leg, which led to my first ever surgery, followed by becoming  a carer, followed by perhaps a little depression and a whole host of anxiety from these past events. Through counselling I realised I was an introvert and that I more than likely have mild social anxiety issues. People keep telling me I need to push through and force myself to do more, but for me that’s like standing at the edge of a boiling cauldron with everyone urging me to jump. Why can it not be enough for people that I am trying!

What does that mean for this blog, does it mean that I have outgrown it and is it time to give up and move on, or does it mean that I just let it evolve with me and see where the journey takes us both.

I want people to read what I write because they are genuinely interested in what I have to say. But I also want them to understand that I am geeky and awkward and not always sure of how to reply to the awesome comments that are left.  I want to write whatever my wonky little brain desires without people worrying I am going to fall off the edge of the earth.

I’ve been enjoying doing some of the fiction challenges, they make me think, but in a good way. They challenge me to hone my writing skills and they give me something else to focus on other than the inside of this rut I seem to find myself in.

When do you realise that enough is enough? When do you realise that it is time to move on, or when do you stop building barriers for yourself and just get on with the job at hand. I tell myself that likes and follows don’t matter and I mean that, but the interaction does. I love this community and I would miss it.

So I stay, but I don’t really evolve. I wonder if six months down the line people would even remember who I was. Perhaps they would say, you must remember her, you know, the weird girl from Ireland with the ginger hair. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t find that offensive, I quite like being weird :)

Perhaps one day I will eventually figure out who I am. Then I can figure out what here is. And we can all live happily ever after.

Until then I guess I just continue to be happy, be weird and be an eejit!