Have you ever had one of those days where you want to run away and keep on running as fast as your little legs will carry you? Yep, me too, in fact it’s been like that every day this week.
Sometimes people just expect too much of me, they want me to see myself through their eyes, and while the compliments and sentiment is nice, sometimes it just becomes another burden. Instead of lifting my spirits it dampens them, as I always feel the spectre of failure lurking close by.
This whole job debacle has been preying on my mind, probably more than even I realised. Seeing as I had not heard it mentioned in a over a week I figured the whole thing had calmed down and perhaps been shelved, eradicating the need for me to make a decision. But no, just as my ass got comfy where it was, it rears its ugly head again. I’ve been told I am moving, as in do not pass go, do not collect £200, you have no choice, you’re outta your office, thanks for your time. Granted I am only moving up the stairs, but still, change is change.
50% of me likes the fact that I am being told, as it means 4 months down the line I cannot regret any decision I may have made should it prove to be the wrong one. The other 50% is like Whoa, WTF just happened! One thing is for sure, I am going to have to purchase some new clothing, my jeans and slogan tees will just not cut it in the ‘real’ world. I am going to have to become one of those women with a capsule wardrobe, I’m thinking 2 black shirts and 2 pairs of black trousers and I’ll call it a uniform, accessorizing with cheap but gorgeous scarves from Primark! The main problem with that is finding clothes I actually like and being able to pay for them.
It would appear that the mother-ship feels I am not deserving of a social life. She seems to have forgotten that I am only 42 years of age and have a life to live.
Me: I got these little Quiches for when I am out on Tuesday.
Her: You’re out on Tuesday?
Me: Yes, and I am out tomorrow too.
Her: You’re out tomorrow?
Her: You’re going out an awful lot.
(Last time I was out with friends was about a month ago)
Me: I am entitled to a social life you know. You go out every week.
Her: Well it’s not much when I do.
Me: No but you still get out.
She seems to view me as the live in housekeeper who disappears for around 8 – 10 hours a day. Considering by this stage I’d already made the tea, cleaned up, made tomorrow nights tea, put in a load of washing and written the note for the Fruit and Veg Man all after a full day at work. Truth be told after all the preparation, I’m too feckin tired to go!
The father-ship is getting just as bad, and he doesn’t even have Dementia. I came home from work yesterday and he’d boiled eggs for their lunch. He didn’t however seem to feel there was any need to turn the pot off afterwards, which was why I came back to find the stove still on and the arse burnt out of it. The previous week he had turned the spuds on with no water and a few days after that turned on the wrong ring. Is it any wonder I’m stressed!!
Despite all this I have remained in relatively good humour, strangely.
What lies ahead!
Tomorrow night though is tea with Udders and Monkey and I can’t wait. I need some laughter to help me to forget the week that was.
Over the weekend there will no doubt be some GTA so if you’re playing online watch out, I have a lot of frustration to vent!
Happy Friday Eejits :)