I wrote the below in answer to a post on a forum I'm a member of
(www.weightlossresources.co.ukin case you're interested :))
I'm feeling frustrated and jittery today, unable to focus or concentrate when
that's exactly what I need to be doing. Right now I need to go do some extreme
physical exercise or get really sweaty or something cos I can't stand being in
this office any more with this guy. He creeps up behind me, he wants to know
what I'm doing, (he has no right to ask this and so I keep fobbing him off – I'm
more senior than he is, even if I don't enforce that very often) he wants this,
he wants that, he wants the other......it's like working with an old woman
without the benefits!!
I want to hit something, to punch something, to really really hurt myself or
something just to get my mind off things. My right side is aching so badly today
it's not funny – even a 5min walk caused my back and thigh to seize up and I'm
tired of it. I want to be at home and do a full days packing/sorting out, but it
can't happen just yet, I need to save some holidays for later in the year. I may
blow up the punching bag later..........
Deep breaths, deep deep breaths and much calm needed.
I could do with an affirmation today – I will not kill my work colleague, I will
not kill my work colleague, I will not kill my work colleague.......
He is driving me nuts. I'm in the middle of developing some work routines for
new equipment and I need quiet and peace and uninterrupted time to do it. He is
driving me nuts – I fixed an excel sheet for him this morning so it works the
way it should and he has come back to me 3 times to ask questions about why it
doesn't work like it used to –because this way all he has to do is fill in the
numbers on sheet one and excel does the rest. THREE TIMES!!!!!!
Then he has a contractor in who is sitting at the meeting desk in the middle of
the office making snide remarks on everything I'm doing (and for that matter
what everyone else is doing as well) and he's driving me nuts, but because he's
not my contractor I can't tell him where to go. The work colleague is also
egging him on and being seriously condescending to me this morning as well so
all in all I want to tell them all to eff off and I'm going home. But I can't
really do that.....and at least the work colleague, and therefore the
contractor, won't be in tomorrow. So I have 5hrs 45mins to survive this idiot.
Oh yes, he is an idiot, he is a rather large idiot. And not he's giggling,
GIGGLING down the phone. He's a grown man!!!
Sorry – probably not what you were looking for on the wagon today, but it's
driving me up the wall. I can't move cos I need the pc to do what I'm doing and
it HAS to get done today........
'I am an oasis of calm'
Maybe that should be my affirmation today. I can feel myself tense and jittery,
I can hardly sit at my desk, my shoulders are tense as hell, my breath and heart
rate are elevated – he's really having an effect on me. Maybe a trip to the
bathroom and a bit of meditative breathing is in order.......
Thursday, 20 January 2011
Sunday, 16 January 2011
packing
OK so I'm moving house again soon and I've started packing. this time I've made the conscious choice and decision to try and declutter before I move. Right now I've got a boot full of shoes and clothes to go to the charity shop, I've got a bag of dvd's to go as well and I'm building up piles of books to go to. So why am I typing? Well I've just emptied one bookcase and it's terrible. I feel like a failure for moving so soon even though it's the right thing to do for me today, right now, this minute. it's the best thing I can do for myself right now and the things I've giving away are things that I don't get any enjoyment out of anymore. So why is it so important for me to have all these things around me?
I think it's a security thing, that I have some permanence in my life in my things, even if it's only my clutter. So I want to get another two bookcases done tonight and then I want to rearrange the front room so I can actually get though there and sort things out as I need to. I'm also going to break down the crappy bookcases I don't want to take with me so I have some space to sort things in the living room too.......
Why is it so hard to do these things?
I think it's a security thing, that I have some permanence in my life in my things, even if it's only my clutter. So I want to get another two bookcases done tonight and then I want to rearrange the front room so I can actually get though there and sort things out as I need to. I'm also going to break down the crappy bookcases I don't want to take with me so I have some space to sort things in the living room too.......
Why is it so hard to do these things?
Thursday, 13 January 2011
God's Warrior
OK I'm bored in work, so I came up with the below little story. Any comments most welcome!
It's only five hours left until I can go home. It's not that I dislike my job; it's just that currently it's not very interesting. I'm a maintenance engineer in a fairly large production company. I can't tell you which company or even what we make, but suffice to say, it's the first job I've ever had to pass a security clearance for. Still, the daily routine is just that – a routine – and some days pass more slowly than others. I think I've pushed my luck today on the internet, so I need to amuse myself in some other way. Telling you about my interesting day the other day may pass the time and since I will be typing, I will look busy. Two birds with one stone, eh?
About two months ago, something strange happened. When the alarm went off on that dull and dreary January morning, it was a serious struggle to drag myself out of bed. Not because I hadn't slept for long enough, but more because I knew I would be facing more of the same and frankly, I was bored. Six months into a new job and I was bored out of my mind. I could do the job with my eyes closed – did sometimes – but I couldn't persuade my boss to give me any more responsibility. Lately, I'd taken to sneaking behind his back to do things I knew I could manage and only tell him about them later. So far it hadn't backfired, but it was a thin line to walk.
Stumbling downstairs, still half asleep, I automatically turned on the TV and the laptop and put my porridge in the microwave. I filled the kettle while the porridge was doing its thing, and got coffee, sugar and milk in the mug without spilling any. Microwave binged, porridge extracted and placed on the floor by the laptop. Kettle clicked, water added to mug, mug placed beside porridge.
Paying half a mind to BBC News, I hauled the laptop onto the couch where I prepared for the morning struggle between my behind and the pile of clean laundry to be put away. Except this morning it appeared remarkably easy. I looked around and my mouth dropped open.
'Huh?' Was this really my living room? There was a clear floor, no clutter, no drying clothes, no folded clothes, no piles of books and papers – all usually waiting to be found a home. Instead there was a note in the middle of the floor; I must have walked right over it on my way down. I rubbed my eyes, in the manner
of a small child, and looked again. Checked that I was wearing my glasses and looked again. I sat down, carefully, very carefully.
I didn't know any O'Leary's and I wasn't sure I liked the idea of a strange man wandering all over my house without my knowledge or consent, but then, having a tidy room, a single room that was tidy, was a big deal in my life. I admitted to myself I'd let things slip and the place could be a lot tidier than it was, but the task seemed so enormous, I couldn't bring myself to even start. But this was amazing; I had so much more space!
Looking back, I really should have been more suspicious, but the idea of someone coming in and sorting out my house for free and not expecting any input from me was such a relief, I didn't like to think too closely on the details. The next morning I woke to find my kitchen had been polished to a brilliant shine while I
slept, my breakfast things laid out waiting for me, the sink resembling a mirror. The third morning, it was the bathroom; the fourth morning, the dining room; the fifth morning, my bedroom. I felt very uncomfortable about someone being in my bedroom while I slept, but the room was such a haven of peace afterwards, I couldn't bring myself to complain. It was easy to keep the place tidy once the initial clear out had occurred and I was taking pride in the house again, for the first time in a long time. 'Long may it last' was my main thought at the time.
That's all well and good, I hear you say, but what about this interesting day? Well that happened about a month after the first clean up. I woke up, jumped out of bed and pulled on my workout clothes, grabbed my keys and headed out the door for a run. Yes, that is the difference a month makes. I ran out for about 15minutes and back in about 10minutes, put porridge in microwave and put the kettle to boil while I showered and came back downstairs. I carried my breakfast out to the dining table only to stop short in the doorway. Sitting at my dining table was a short man, dressed in a green suit, with a red bushy beard. His hair was hidden underneath a strange looking hat, but I presumed it was similar to the bear. Think of the leprechauns from 'Darby O'Gill and the Little People', a classic film if there ever was one, and you wouldn't be going far wrong.
'Good morning,' he said, 'Sit down and make yourself comfortable.'
'Um, thanks, seeing as how this is my home and you're the visitor?' I was put out and I didn't mind letting him know. 'Good morning. Who are you?'
'Well I'm the one that did the spot of cleaning for you a few weeks back. I take it you liked my work? The place is looking grand.'
'Yes, I really appreciated that, thank you. But really, who are you?'
'Eat up your porridge, or it will be getting cold, and you don't like cold porridge. I'm Seamus and I suppose I'm along the lines of a Guardian Angel. Not quite exact, but the analogy will do for now.' I sputtered, there's just no other word for it, I definitely sputtered. My mind whirling, I tried to piece together what I had heard and make sense of it. I was an Irish Catholic, I'd grown up with the idea of a Guardian Angel who looked
after me and gave me special care when I needed it, but to be confronted with someone (or something) that resemble a leprechaun claiming to be an angel was a bit much for anyone to take in, especially before coffee.
'Yes, I know it's a lot to take in.' At my look, he chuckled. 'Yes I can hear what you're thinking; I wouldn't be much good as an angel if I couldn't. Don't worry, you're not in trouble, I just need some help. And since you could possibly be perceived to owe me a debt after the difference I made to your life with the clean up, you've been chosen.'
OK this was going a bit too far now. What about work? What about my plans for the day? What about my life? It wasn't much of one, but it was mine and I kind of liked it. But a Guardian Angel? I picked up the phone to ring into work, only to find an automatic text on it from work. The site had been closed for the day;
only certain specifically named people were to go in. I looked at Seamus and held the phone up.
'I'm not an amateur, you know, I've done this before.' I'm sure you have, I thought, while finishing off my porridge. I was in work wear and wondered whether I should change.
'No need, 'said Seamus, 'Already taken care of.' Looking down I saw it was. I was now in a comfy pair of jeans, my black runners and a warm jumper. Better than my work clothes and probably suitable for whatever Seamus intended.
In the space of the next thirty minutes, I found myself in my trusty five year old Corsa, hurtling up the road to the neighbouring town, listening to a leprechaun deliver a plan worthy of a Navy Seal, or something. We were apparently on the trail of an errant soul, about to take its first steps onto the Road to Perdition. We were coordinating with other teams of what Seamus described as 'beings' although I was the only human involved. Basically, I was providing the illusion of a getaway car for the convenience of others. But the military speak coming from Seamus sounded like something off Ultimate Force or one of those type of military based show. I was itching to ask questions but apparently there was no time to explain anything and given the speed Seamus was speaking at, I was inclined to believe him.
After roughly fifteen minutes, although the journey would normally have taken more than thirty, we pulled into a small courtyard surrounded by pretty cottages. It was the kind of place one could imagine Beatrice Potter living. There was a tree in the middle of the courtyard and in its shade, a small child was playing. I turned to Seamus.
'So, where's the soul in danger then? What's due to happen?'
'Well that wee laddie there is about to try and kill some ants.'
'Yes? And?' That didn't seem worth all the trouble we'd gone to, or the back-up resources that Seamus apparently had in place, although I'd yet to see any sign of them.
'That's it. The child starts by killing ants, progresses onto bigger things and ends up losing his soul by committing multiple murders.'
'I'm sorry, what? You've gathered all those forces and troops and funny sounding equipment for a small child? You'll kill him of terror if nothing else. You should be ashamed of yourself, Seamus O'Leary.'
'Hold on now, isn't better for the child to be terrorised now and save his soul and others later? This small child will end up being one of the most hated and feared men in history if we don't do something now.'
'What about his parents? What about his teachers? What about those around him? Where are they? What about their responsibilities?' I was incensed. I was angry. I think for the first time in my life, I could say with pure truth that I was seeing red. I found my hands were shaking.
'Well what do you suggest then? We mollycoddle him and make sure he never gets the chance to do anything? Exactly how many resources do you think we have?' Seamus sounded indignant to say the least.
'Let me talk to him. If I could let him know that killing is bad, that what he's doing is wrong, maybe if he could talk to you or one of your colleagues.' I was growing desperate. For some reason, the fate of this boy had gripped me and I couldn't let Seamus carry out his dastardly plan to frighten him to death. I had
started to shake and my vision was starting to go fuzzy. A great roaring in my ears and swirls of colour suggested things were not right. Well they would if I had paid attention to them. As it was, I just knew I had to get to this child and save him.
'OK, ok, ok, calm down now girl, I want you to be taking deep breaths, in and out, in and out, slowly, slowly does it.' Seamus' voice washed over me and woke me from the blackness. 'I've yet to see someone react as strongly as you did.
Stay with me now, girl, relax, nothing's going to happen to you or the child.'
'Well, will she make it or won't she, Seamus, we need to know.' The new voice was deep, strident but curiously melodious. It was a voice made for command really.
'She'll make it, boss, no worries about that, but whether she'll want to do what we need after this is a bit touch and go. A bit stubborn this one.'
'The best ones always are, Seamus, a fact I remember pointing out to your recruiter as well, if I remember correctly.' The amusement in the voice was obvious and I felt Seamus suppress a chuckle as well.
'Hmm, well I don't know about that, but unless you want to reveal yourself in all your glory, either tamp it down, or leave. She's coming to now. '
A glimmer of pure white light hit my eyes as they opened and I blinked a few times to get used to light after darkness.
'Where... who... what...' The questions in my voice were obvious. Unfortunately, no one appeared willing or able to answer them. A strange man I assumed belonged to the strange voice strode towards the chair I was sitting in.
'Daithi is my name and I'm, well I'm your new boss, I suppose.' That voice was even better when it went with the body. Only a warning shake from Seamus warned me I should be responding.
'Oh, uh, em, hi?' It was a weak answer, I admit that, but hey, I was never good with men anyway. Not the full size ones, I was managing alright with Seamus. An elbow in the side reminded me he could read thoughts. Oops. But Daithi was talking.
'... huge long list of rules and regulations, plenty to remember, lots to be doing, but in short, that's it.' He looked at me as if expecting a response.
'Eh boss? Do you not remember your own recruitment? The poor girl wasn't listening to a word you just said and the fact that she's still upright is enough to be going on with. Why don't you wander off and leave me to deal with her? I'll bring her up to you in the morning.' Seamus, my protector? Huh, there was an interesting thought. He obviously has some say around here though, because Daithi was saying goodbye and I was being left alone with Seamus. I was tired, but I was also hungry, so Seamus had a three course meal appear
from somewhere. I would question details like this later, at my leisure, but at the time, I was so grateful for the food, for some normality, the thought didn't cross my mind. Seamus very frustratingly wouldn't answer any questions, despite everything from bullying attempts to downright begging, but would only say I was
to relax, enjoy the food, and then I would be brought home again.
I don't remember getting home that night, but I do remember waking up the next morning feeling as if I'd run 10mk the night before. I ached all over, the good ache of a job well done, and my head felt as clear as a bright spring morning. I stretched and looked at the clock, startled to find it was Saturday and didn't
have to get out of bed. Rolling over, I heard and felt the crinkle of paper beneath my pillow. A note from Seamus. So it hadn't been a dream after all.
'Dear O,
Doubtless you are now questioning your own sanity, don't worry, this is fairly normal. You have been recruited into the eternal war between Good and Evil. You are on the Good side, don't worry. I will be in touch on Monday about your duties and schedule for the next while. If I'm not, don't worry, go into work as usual and someone will contact you soon.
Your friend
Seamus P. O'Leary
P.S. Should you need to contact me, go to St Osmund's and light a candle to Our Lady. I'll know.
For now, I wait and see. Maybe they found someone better qualified or better equipped. But if they do come knocking again, it will be a fitter, more capable, more useable me they find. I'll make sure of it.That was two weeks ago now and despite numerous candles to Our Lady, I've yet to hear from Seamus - or from Daithi for that matter. If it wasn't for the two notes and the difference in my house, I'd be questioning my sanity roundabout now. But the notes exist, my house is still so tidy as to be a miracle so I'm thinking it was all real. But if I was recruited for the eternal war between Good and Evil, shouldn't I be doing something other than sat at a desk, shuffling paperwork and managing a team of capable individuals? I definitely
shouldn't be writing up what could be considered my memoirs during working hours...
It's only five hours left until I can go home. It's not that I dislike my job; it's just that currently it's not very interesting. I'm a maintenance engineer in a fairly large production company. I can't tell you which company or even what we make, but suffice to say, it's the first job I've ever had to pass a security clearance for. Still, the daily routine is just that – a routine – and some days pass more slowly than others. I think I've pushed my luck today on the internet, so I need to amuse myself in some other way. Telling you about my interesting day the other day may pass the time and since I will be typing, I will look busy. Two birds with one stone, eh?
About two months ago, something strange happened. When the alarm went off on that dull and dreary January morning, it was a serious struggle to drag myself out of bed. Not because I hadn't slept for long enough, but more because I knew I would be facing more of the same and frankly, I was bored. Six months into a new job and I was bored out of my mind. I could do the job with my eyes closed – did sometimes – but I couldn't persuade my boss to give me any more responsibility. Lately, I'd taken to sneaking behind his back to do things I knew I could manage and only tell him about them later. So far it hadn't backfired, but it was a thin line to walk.
Stumbling downstairs, still half asleep, I automatically turned on the TV and the laptop and put my porridge in the microwave. I filled the kettle while the porridge was doing its thing, and got coffee, sugar and milk in the mug without spilling any. Microwave binged, porridge extracted and placed on the floor by the laptop. Kettle clicked, water added to mug, mug placed beside porridge.
Paying half a mind to BBC News, I hauled the laptop onto the couch where I prepared for the morning struggle between my behind and the pile of clean laundry to be put away. Except this morning it appeared remarkably easy. I looked around and my mouth dropped open.
'Huh?' Was this really my living room? There was a clear floor, no clutter, no drying clothes, no folded clothes, no piles of books and papers – all usually waiting to be found a home. Instead there was a note in the middle of the floor; I must have walked right over it on my way down. I rubbed my eyes, in the manner
of a small child, and looked again. Checked that I was wearing my glasses and looked again. I sat down, carefully, very carefully.
'Dear Miss C [the note said],
I hope you find your new arrangements to your satisfaction. I will return
tonight to continue through the rest of the house, if you so choose. Merely
write 'yes' on the back of this sheet of paper if you would like me to proceed.
Yours faithfully,
Seamus P. O'Leary.
I hope you find your new arrangements to your satisfaction. I will return
tonight to continue through the rest of the house, if you so choose. Merely
write 'yes' on the back of this sheet of paper if you would like me to proceed.
Yours faithfully,
Seamus P. O'Leary.
I didn't know any O'Leary's and I wasn't sure I liked the idea of a strange man wandering all over my house without my knowledge or consent, but then, having a tidy room, a single room that was tidy, was a big deal in my life. I admitted to myself I'd let things slip and the place could be a lot tidier than it was, but the task seemed so enormous, I couldn't bring myself to even start. But this was amazing; I had so much more space!
Looking back, I really should have been more suspicious, but the idea of someone coming in and sorting out my house for free and not expecting any input from me was such a relief, I didn't like to think too closely on the details. The next morning I woke to find my kitchen had been polished to a brilliant shine while I
slept, my breakfast things laid out waiting for me, the sink resembling a mirror. The third morning, it was the bathroom; the fourth morning, the dining room; the fifth morning, my bedroom. I felt very uncomfortable about someone being in my bedroom while I slept, but the room was such a haven of peace afterwards, I couldn't bring myself to complain. It was easy to keep the place tidy once the initial clear out had occurred and I was taking pride in the house again, for the first time in a long time. 'Long may it last' was my main thought at the time.
'Good morning,' he said, 'Sit down and make yourself comfortable.'
'Um, thanks, seeing as how this is my home and you're the visitor?' I was put out and I didn't mind letting him know. 'Good morning. Who are you?'
'Well I'm the one that did the spot of cleaning for you a few weeks back. I take it you liked my work? The place is looking grand.'
'Yes, I really appreciated that, thank you. But really, who are you?'
'Eat up your porridge, or it will be getting cold, and you don't like cold porridge. I'm Seamus and I suppose I'm along the lines of a Guardian Angel. Not quite exact, but the analogy will do for now.' I sputtered, there's just no other word for it, I definitely sputtered. My mind whirling, I tried to piece together what I had heard and make sense of it. I was an Irish Catholic, I'd grown up with the idea of a Guardian Angel who looked
after me and gave me special care when I needed it, but to be confronted with someone (or something) that resemble a leprechaun claiming to be an angel was a bit much for anyone to take in, especially before coffee.
'Yes, I know it's a lot to take in.' At my look, he chuckled. 'Yes I can hear what you're thinking; I wouldn't be much good as an angel if I couldn't. Don't worry, you're not in trouble, I just need some help. And since you could possibly be perceived to owe me a debt after the difference I made to your life with the clean up, you've been chosen.'
OK this was going a bit too far now. What about work? What about my plans for the day? What about my life? It wasn't much of one, but it was mine and I kind of liked it. But a Guardian Angel? I picked up the phone to ring into work, only to find an automatic text on it from work. The site had been closed for the day;
only certain specifically named people were to go in. I looked at Seamus and held the phone up.
'I'm not an amateur, you know, I've done this before.' I'm sure you have, I thought, while finishing off my porridge. I was in work wear and wondered whether I should change.
'No need, 'said Seamus, 'Already taken care of.' Looking down I saw it was. I was now in a comfy pair of jeans, my black runners and a warm jumper. Better than my work clothes and probably suitable for whatever Seamus intended.
In the space of the next thirty minutes, I found myself in my trusty five year old Corsa, hurtling up the road to the neighbouring town, listening to a leprechaun deliver a plan worthy of a Navy Seal, or something. We were apparently on the trail of an errant soul, about to take its first steps onto the Road to Perdition. We were coordinating with other teams of what Seamus described as 'beings' although I was the only human involved. Basically, I was providing the illusion of a getaway car for the convenience of others. But the military speak coming from Seamus sounded like something off Ultimate Force or one of those type of military based show. I was itching to ask questions but apparently there was no time to explain anything and given the speed Seamus was speaking at, I was inclined to believe him.
After roughly fifteen minutes, although the journey would normally have taken more than thirty, we pulled into a small courtyard surrounded by pretty cottages. It was the kind of place one could imagine Beatrice Potter living. There was a tree in the middle of the courtyard and in its shade, a small child was playing. I turned to Seamus.
'So, where's the soul in danger then? What's due to happen?'
'Well that wee laddie there is about to try and kill some ants.'
'Yes? And?' That didn't seem worth all the trouble we'd gone to, or the back-up resources that Seamus apparently had in place, although I'd yet to see any sign of them.
'That's it. The child starts by killing ants, progresses onto bigger things and ends up losing his soul by committing multiple murders.'
'I'm sorry, what? You've gathered all those forces and troops and funny sounding equipment for a small child? You'll kill him of terror if nothing else. You should be ashamed of yourself, Seamus O'Leary.'
'Hold on now, isn't better for the child to be terrorised now and save his soul and others later? This small child will end up being one of the most hated and feared men in history if we don't do something now.'
'What about his parents? What about his teachers? What about those around him? Where are they? What about their responsibilities?' I was incensed. I was angry. I think for the first time in my life, I could say with pure truth that I was seeing red. I found my hands were shaking.
'Well what do you suggest then? We mollycoddle him and make sure he never gets the chance to do anything? Exactly how many resources do you think we have?' Seamus sounded indignant to say the least.
'Let me talk to him. If I could let him know that killing is bad, that what he's doing is wrong, maybe if he could talk to you or one of your colleagues.' I was growing desperate. For some reason, the fate of this boy had gripped me and I couldn't let Seamus carry out his dastardly plan to frighten him to death. I had
started to shake and my vision was starting to go fuzzy. A great roaring in my ears and swirls of colour suggested things were not right. Well they would if I had paid attention to them. As it was, I just knew I had to get to this child and save him.
'OK, ok, ok, calm down now girl, I want you to be taking deep breaths, in and out, in and out, slowly, slowly does it.' Seamus' voice washed over me and woke me from the blackness. 'I've yet to see someone react as strongly as you did.
Stay with me now, girl, relax, nothing's going to happen to you or the child.'
'Well, will she make it or won't she, Seamus, we need to know.' The new voice was deep, strident but curiously melodious. It was a voice made for command really.
'She'll make it, boss, no worries about that, but whether she'll want to do what we need after this is a bit touch and go. A bit stubborn this one.'
'The best ones always are, Seamus, a fact I remember pointing out to your recruiter as well, if I remember correctly.' The amusement in the voice was obvious and I felt Seamus suppress a chuckle as well.
'Hmm, well I don't know about that, but unless you want to reveal yourself in all your glory, either tamp it down, or leave. She's coming to now. '
A glimmer of pure white light hit my eyes as they opened and I blinked a few times to get used to light after darkness.
'Where... who... what...' The questions in my voice were obvious. Unfortunately, no one appeared willing or able to answer them. A strange man I assumed belonged to the strange voice strode towards the chair I was sitting in.
'Daithi is my name and I'm, well I'm your new boss, I suppose.' That voice was even better when it went with the body. Only a warning shake from Seamus warned me I should be responding.
'Oh, uh, em, hi?' It was a weak answer, I admit that, but hey, I was never good with men anyway. Not the full size ones, I was managing alright with Seamus. An elbow in the side reminded me he could read thoughts. Oops. But Daithi was talking.
'... huge long list of rules and regulations, plenty to remember, lots to be doing, but in short, that's it.' He looked at me as if expecting a response.
'Eh boss? Do you not remember your own recruitment? The poor girl wasn't listening to a word you just said and the fact that she's still upright is enough to be going on with. Why don't you wander off and leave me to deal with her? I'll bring her up to you in the morning.' Seamus, my protector? Huh, there was an interesting thought. He obviously has some say around here though, because Daithi was saying goodbye and I was being left alone with Seamus. I was tired, but I was also hungry, so Seamus had a three course meal appear
from somewhere. I would question details like this later, at my leisure, but at the time, I was so grateful for the food, for some normality, the thought didn't cross my mind. Seamus very frustratingly wouldn't answer any questions, despite everything from bullying attempts to downright begging, but would only say I was
to relax, enjoy the food, and then I would be brought home again.
I don't remember getting home that night, but I do remember waking up the next morning feeling as if I'd run 10mk the night before. I ached all over, the good ache of a job well done, and my head felt as clear as a bright spring morning. I stretched and looked at the clock, startled to find it was Saturday and didn't
have to get out of bed. Rolling over, I heard and felt the crinkle of paper beneath my pillow. A note from Seamus. So it hadn't been a dream after all.
'Dear O,
Doubtless you are now questioning your own sanity, don't worry, this is fairly normal. You have been recruited into the eternal war between Good and Evil. You are on the Good side, don't worry. I will be in touch on Monday about your duties and schedule for the next while. If I'm not, don't worry, go into work as usual and someone will contact you soon.
Your friend
Seamus P. O'Leary
P.S. Should you need to contact me, go to St Osmund's and light a candle to Our Lady. I'll know.
For now, I wait and see. Maybe they found someone better qualified or better equipped. But if they do come knocking again, it will be a fitter, more capable, more useable me they find. I'll make sure of it.That was two weeks ago now and despite numerous candles to Our Lady, I've yet to hear from Seamus - or from Daithi for that matter. If it wasn't for the two notes and the difference in my house, I'd be questioning my sanity roundabout now. But the notes exist, my house is still so tidy as to be a miracle so I'm thinking it was all real. But if I was recruited for the eternal war between Good and Evil, shouldn't I be doing something other than sat at a desk, shuffling paperwork and managing a team of capable individuals? I definitely
shouldn't be writing up what could be considered my memoirs during working hours...
It's a fine line
It's a fine line between quenching thirst and over drinking, satisfying hunger
and over eating, a very fine line indeed. I've just had a mid-morning snack. I
had a sausage sandwich and some grapes – wasn't satisfied. I've just gotten half
way through a Danish and had to throw it out cos I'm too full. There was a good
hour between the sausage sandwich and the pastry, during which I was distracted
from myself, but I tuned in (see here for details: Beyond Chocolate)
and decided what I really wanted was some doughy weighty snacky thing, not
chocolate, not fruit, not anything but something with dough and icing.
I now feel sick after eating it so I'm unsure why I was so fixated on it. I
definitely wanted it, nothing else would do, but now I feel sick.
Hmm, I may be having a smaller lunch than expected.......a much smaller lunch.
But why does this happen? Was it my subconscious testing whether or not I would
feed the craving? Was it some weird additive in the Danish that my body was
craving? Was it pure sugar craving? Or was it me needing to prove to myself that
I can and will allow myself to eat whatever it is I want at that given time? I
don't know.
What I do know is that I will be taking it easy for the next few hours and
drinking a lot of water – hopefully not enough to make me sick, but enough to
dilute the effects of that bloody Danish.
and over eating, a very fine line indeed. I've just had a mid-morning snack. I
had a sausage sandwich and some grapes – wasn't satisfied. I've just gotten half
way through a Danish and had to throw it out cos I'm too full. There was a good
hour between the sausage sandwich and the pastry, during which I was distracted
from myself, but I tuned in (see here for details: Beyond Chocolate)
and decided what I really wanted was some doughy weighty snacky thing, not
chocolate, not fruit, not anything but something with dough and icing.
I now feel sick after eating it so I'm unsure why I was so fixated on it. I
definitely wanted it, nothing else would do, but now I feel sick.
Hmm, I may be having a smaller lunch than expected.......a much smaller lunch.
But why does this happen? Was it my subconscious testing whether or not I would
feed the craving? Was it some weird additive in the Danish that my body was
craving? Was it pure sugar craving? Or was it me needing to prove to myself that
I can and will allow myself to eat whatever it is I want at that given time? I
don't know.
What I do know is that I will be taking it easy for the next few hours and
drinking a lot of water – hopefully not enough to make me sick, but enough to
dilute the effects of that bloody Danish.
Wednesday, 12 January 2011
bit of a melt down......
I had a bit of a melt down last night. I'm cuirrently 4stone over my previous 'highest ever weight'. This means I really have 8stone to lose to get back to something like normality. This means I am not happy.
I still want to focus on nutrition and fitness rather than weight, because the weight is really depressing me and I think that the times I have focussed on weight loss, I've developed some very bad eating habits, to the point where several people have suggest the word eating disorder to me. I don't think it's that bad, but there's certainly a tendency to unhealthy behaviours there.
I've had a thought last night - I eat a lot more when I'm on my own than when I'm with people, so for me that means I need to eat more with people. Unfortunately living on my own this proves difficult. Eating out every night isn't an option either, cos of cost. Any ideas anyone has on how to pretend to myself I'm eatin with people and not on my own would be gratefully received.
I'm not giving up completely though. I'm bringing my swimming gear with me to work so I can pop in to the pool on the way home - there's a fmaily swim on until 5pm so if I leave it until half past, most of those should be gone.....A good long swim will at least take up time when I can't eat tonight, as well as wracking up exercise cals.............
And I'm wearing yellow socks today as well so that is a good thing.
I still want to focus on nutrition and fitness rather than weight, because the weight is really depressing me and I think that the times I have focussed on weight loss, I've developed some very bad eating habits, to the point where several people have suggest the word eating disorder to me. I don't think it's that bad, but there's certainly a tendency to unhealthy behaviours there.
I've had a thought last night - I eat a lot more when I'm on my own than when I'm with people, so for me that means I need to eat more with people. Unfortunately living on my own this proves difficult. Eating out every night isn't an option either, cos of cost. Any ideas anyone has on how to pretend to myself I'm eatin with people and not on my own would be gratefully received.
I'm not giving up completely though. I'm bringing my swimming gear with me to work so I can pop in to the pool on the way home - there's a fmaily swim on until 5pm so if I leave it until half past, most of those should be gone.....A good long swim will at least take up time when I can't eat tonight, as well as wracking up exercise cals.............
And I'm wearing yellow socks today as well so that is a good thing.
Sunday, 9 January 2011
Weirdest dream last night...
Before I say anything I should warn people this is a dream, I don't think it's real -but wouldn't it be fun if it was? And possibly, I've been reading too much Kelley Armstrong. (If you don't know who she is, check out her page on amazon.......)
Anyway, Al and I were away for a romantic weekend in the mountains (where everyone appeared to be American just for kicks, and the mountain folk were pretty much every cliche of isolated communities my brain could think of!) We were in this extremely fancy posh, luxurious hotel/apartment.Now in this dream, Al was the big bahooma of werewolves and this was a bit of an escape for us both. I won't bore ye with the details of the night before, but the morning we woke up and went out into the kitchen to make breakfast only to find Al's arch-rival and his family out there just finishing up. The wife was a bitch (in both senses of the word) and was making digs about her family and position etc etc all while we were in there. Then they all myseteriously left the room and we were left alone.
Turns out there was this plan to discredit Al as the big bahooma using me, so he was trying to send me out the window of our room, but the opposing side have planted a huge pile of manure there. I therefore dressed up to the nines and walked out of the room, only to find a whole pile of what could only be described as 'young bloods'. Al had a quick whisper for me to the effect of some of them being ours and some being theirs before he left me. In the spirit of irritating the crap out of them all for ruining my weekend, I took them shopping. For the entire day. I was able to figure out who were mine and who weren't and guess who got stuck carrying my shopping? (Yes in the dream apparently we'd won the lotto or something - which was less believeable than the werewolf angle!!) I kept on meeting the Bitch throughout the day and she kept on making snide comments about Al and how he was so sleepy, so after a few hours I headed back to the hotel, only to find the entire nation of werewolves there.......they tried to shunt me into a side room, but my boys basically bullied my way into the main hearing, where it turned out I was on trial for 'un-wereworl-like' behaviour.....
I agreed to the charges, since I'm not a werewolf, I see no reason to live like one - one other person in my bed is quite enough thank you. The sentence was a fight with one of the young bloods on their side - a fight I would lose cos of the whole me not being a werewolf thing. So I stood in the centre of the room, let him nip me enough to draw blood and screamed for Al - who then came charging through the door in full werewolf form and beat the crap out of the young lad. Pure shock all round as apparently he had been drugged so he shouldn't have been able to do that, but power of true love and all the rest of that mushy stuff. So cue me being carried out in his arms and back to our apartment where i got to model all my new clothes for him :)
Like I said - weird dream - and I've missed out a lot of the nuances in the telling -like me extending invitations to those on the other side to join ours, trying to mend the rift....but the other side were so confident they'd manage to kill me thereby rendering Al incompetent for long enough to take over none of it worked. Also a few conversations between the Bitch and I that showed how I was way happier than she was.......
It was fun though :) I might even make a story out of it :)
Anyway, Al and I were away for a romantic weekend in the mountains (where everyone appeared to be American just for kicks, and the mountain folk were pretty much every cliche of isolated communities my brain could think of!) We were in this extremely fancy posh, luxurious hotel/apartment.Now in this dream, Al was the big bahooma of werewolves and this was a bit of an escape for us both. I won't bore ye with the details of the night before, but the morning we woke up and went out into the kitchen to make breakfast only to find Al's arch-rival and his family out there just finishing up. The wife was a bitch (in both senses of the word) and was making digs about her family and position etc etc all while we were in there. Then they all myseteriously left the room and we were left alone.
Turns out there was this plan to discredit Al as the big bahooma using me, so he was trying to send me out the window of our room, but the opposing side have planted a huge pile of manure there. I therefore dressed up to the nines and walked out of the room, only to find a whole pile of what could only be described as 'young bloods'. Al had a quick whisper for me to the effect of some of them being ours and some being theirs before he left me. In the spirit of irritating the crap out of them all for ruining my weekend, I took them shopping. For the entire day. I was able to figure out who were mine and who weren't and guess who got stuck carrying my shopping? (Yes in the dream apparently we'd won the lotto or something - which was less believeable than the werewolf angle!!) I kept on meeting the Bitch throughout the day and she kept on making snide comments about Al and how he was so sleepy, so after a few hours I headed back to the hotel, only to find the entire nation of werewolves there.......they tried to shunt me into a side room, but my boys basically bullied my way into the main hearing, where it turned out I was on trial for 'un-wereworl-like' behaviour.....
I agreed to the charges, since I'm not a werewolf, I see no reason to live like one - one other person in my bed is quite enough thank you. The sentence was a fight with one of the young bloods on their side - a fight I would lose cos of the whole me not being a werewolf thing. So I stood in the centre of the room, let him nip me enough to draw blood and screamed for Al - who then came charging through the door in full werewolf form and beat the crap out of the young lad. Pure shock all round as apparently he had been drugged so he shouldn't have been able to do that, but power of true love and all the rest of that mushy stuff. So cue me being carried out in his arms and back to our apartment where i got to model all my new clothes for him :)
Like I said - weird dream - and I've missed out a lot of the nuances in the telling -like me extending invitations to those on the other side to join ours, trying to mend the rift....but the other side were so confident they'd manage to kill me thereby rendering Al incompetent for long enough to take over none of it worked. Also a few conversations between the Bitch and I that showed how I was way happier than she was.......
It was fun though :) I might even make a story out of it :)
Friday, 7 January 2011
Major decisions
I've made some today.......
I've decided I'm going to move house. I've looked at a flat today and I'm filling the forms in tomorrow and sending them in with the cheque.
I started seeing a personal trainer today as well. OK so he was possibly young enough to be my son - well he looked like he was about 12!! - but he was good, he was sensible, it made sense :) I will be going back to see him as soon as I can book it in.
So tomorrow starts a good declutter. I've already thought of about 40DVDs to go to cash convertors, some books to go to the library, some bric a brac to go to the charity shops and some clothes for ebay.
Some hope of money to be made anyway :)
I've decided I'm going to move house. I've looked at a flat today and I'm filling the forms in tomorrow and sending them in with the cheque.
I started seeing a personal trainer today as well. OK so he was possibly young enough to be my son - well he looked like he was about 12!! - but he was good, he was sensible, it made sense :) I will be going back to see him as soon as I can book it in.
So tomorrow starts a good declutter. I've already thought of about 40DVDs to go to cash convertors, some books to go to the library, some bric a brac to go to the charity shops and some clothes for ebay.
Some hope of money to be made anyway :)
Wednesday, 5 January 2011
January 5th 2011
I think this is my sixth blog over time. They've all served their purpose in their own time, and naturally faded away when it was no longer necessary for me to write on them.
This one is for idle thoughts and musings. Possibly some stories, possible to help me on nights like tonight when I am sleepless despite being exhausted, possibly just to have some place to call my own where I can let loose and not care if I offend anyone or irritate anyone....someplace that's just me.
Short first post, but I'm due in work in 7hrs and I need to get some sleep before then.......we're down to 6hrs sleep max right now........
This one is for idle thoughts and musings. Possibly some stories, possible to help me on nights like tonight when I am sleepless despite being exhausted, possibly just to have some place to call my own where I can let loose and not care if I offend anyone or irritate anyone....someplace that's just me.
Short first post, but I'm due in work in 7hrs and I need to get some sleep before then.......we're down to 6hrs sleep max right now........
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)