Welcome to the Planet

Back from our impromptu honeymoon, and immediately dived into fifty shades of crazy at work.

Just as things are reaching that particular degree of lunacy where the only viable solutions are to murder half the people in the office or pack up and leave, well… just as I’m cleaning my desk drawers and hitting the road, they offer me a freaking promotion. Of course, it all makes sense. It all. Makes. Sense.

And yes, it’s just the kind of job I’ve been after for a few years now. I’d be crazy not to jump at the chance.

But this is not your regular workplace.

Not your regular workmates to hang out with by the watercooler on a random Tuesday morning. Nobody dares to hang by our watercooler for too long anyway. You can get stabbed in the back half a dozen times as you wait for your cup to fill.

We are violent, unscrupulous creatures, thriving on our collective toxicity. And now I get to chomp my way to a higher, slightly more comfortable spot in the food chain.

Please forgive me while I shrink into a corner to cry over my surprise salary jump.

All jokes aside now, I’m seriously doubting whether I should take this new role, and the infinite levels of insanity it will bring along. I’ve asked for a little time to think about it, and if thinking about it means worrying myself into super duper, insomnia flavoured misery, then yes, I guess I’m thinking about it good and hard.

In other news…

I’m doing very little reading these days, but lots of walking and listening to extraordinary music instead.

Green Park is turning a million shades of gold, and I’m actually looking forward to autumn for once.

It’s been a year since we closed on our flat, and drove a car-full of potted plants and bed linens across London, to spend our first night in the place on a blow up matress in a freshly painted, deserted guestroom.

One week since our wedding, and they must have been feeding these flowers some pretty extraordinary things, because half a dozen bouquets are still holding strong in various corners of our living room.

More than two years since I’ve started this blog, and coming close to six years since we moved to this country.

Dust in the wind and all that.

Apart from my work related dramas, the coming weeks appear to be rather uneventful, so I’m planning to binge on various TV series, cook fool-proof dinners and carve pumpkins.

There’s an awful kind of beauty in the way things have settled in my life lately, and I think what I’m mostly working on right now is trying to enjoy it as much as I can. As scary as it is and all.

These Are The Days

Dear friends.

I’m living days of beautiful, exciting things.

Being thirty one and as grown up as can be, I’m of course, reluctant to write about it all because I’m afraid I’ll jinx it.

So I carry my secret specks of happiness up and down these streets, and try my best at not making a hopeless mess of the other layers of my life. Because believe me, they’re more susceptible to mess than ever.

First, there’s my family.

Consistent as ever in my failures, I’m still more or less a disappointment. But I think we’ve reached this point in our lives where years and years or constant unrealistic expectations and eventual letdowns later, we’re ok with our mixed-up, deranged relationship. That’s not to say it’s easy. I still have the ocasional phone conversation with my mother by the end of which I’m so mad I’m crying, and focusing every fleck of my will power to keep my voice from breaking. Because if she can tell I’m crying, she will have won, and we can’t have that now, can we? Have I mentioned I’m thirty one? Oh well. Families are tough.

And while we’re on tough things, there’s my job.

As luck would have it for a rather volatile, can’t-take-other-people’s-crap-for-too-long-without-turning-murderous person such as myself, I happen to currently work in Crazy Town. I know, I know. It actually sounds like it could be fun, right? And surely the kind of place someone as crazypants as yours truly would thrive in? And the funny thing is, I am. Thriving. But holy cow, is it giving me half a dozen tiny heart attacks a day! These people are crazy, blood thirsty monsters and one day, soon, I’ll be on the menu. Until then, I’m losing sleep, keeping my claws sharp and a drawer full of stress balls at hand.

To top it all, and the main reason I’m not hitting the road and finding another, less cancerous job, I’ve got money on my mind.

V and I (well, mostly me! he’s the more balanced half of our family) are nervously entertaining this miraculous idea of paying our mortgage a million or so years early, which is super realistic and putting zero pressure on ourselves and our relatively unchanged salaries since we got said mortgage. But hey, what are our thirties good for anyway, if not for worrying and stressing and counting and saving, until there’s little will to live left. So far, it hasn’t been all that bad to be fair, since we’ve managed to squeeze in two seaside holidays this summer and are already planning our next trip for later in the year, but at the back of my mind, little clouds of digits and percentages are growing bigger and bigger and are already casting a shadow on me every time I find myself caught up in another impromptu shoe shopping spree.

Now, to be perfectly honest, apart from these little nuggets of madness clearly making my life more exciting and enviable, I’m pretty much ok.

Which is, I think, why I’m not writing more often and why these last few posts have all ended on annoying, optimistic notes. But don’t despair. I’ve got a performance review at work in a few weeks! And family visiting! And summer’s over! I’m sure I’ll get back to my hate-my-life, regular little self in no time!

Until then, have a lovely sunny Tuesday, wherever you are!

*

Later edit: Also, this is my 200th post here, people. Is that amazing or what?

Call Me Crazy…

…but I think Dr. Seuss might be working in my office.

I love my job!

 

Dr. Seuss

I love my job. I love the pay!I love it more and more each day.
I love my boss, he is the best!
I love his boss and all the rest.I love my office and its location. I hate to have to go on vacation.
I love my furniture, drab and grey, and piles of paper that grow each day!
I think my job is swell, there’s nothing else I love so well.
I love to work among my peers, I love their leers, and jeers, and sneers.
I love my computer and its software; I hug it often though it won’t care.
I love each program and every file, I’d love them more if they worked a while.I’m happy to be here. I am. I am.
I’m the happiest slave of the Firm, I am.
I love this work. I love these chores.
I love the meetings with deadly bores.
I love my job – I’ll say it again – I even love those friendly men.
Those friendly men who’ve come today, in clean white coats to take me away!

Five Things Today

1.

We’ve had no hot water in our shower for three weeks.

Get a plumber look at it, you say? Well, you’re probably not up to date with the latest developments in London’s flourishing plumbing industry.

There. Are. No. Plumbers. Not one.

Sure, you’ll find plenty online, or recommended by friends, and believe it or not a handful of them will even return your calls and/or emails. But getting one to actually come and LOOK at your shower, now that’s a different story. They are busy, these people. Doing… not sure what really, but definitely not shower tinkering.

The last person we spoke to was quite funny. Too busy to come over, obviously, but kind enough to suggest we take our shower apart ourselves and keep the pieces in lemon juice overnight. And you know what? After nearly a month of freezing cold showers in the middle of winter, lemon juice sounds like it might just work. So yeah. Fancy joining me in a lemon squeezing marathon tonight, anyone? Anyone?

2.

Several of my friends have quit or are on the verge of quitting their jobs, with little to no future career plans in mind.

No, they’re not all Romanian.

Yes, it might be mid-life-crisis early-thirties-crisis.

And yes, I do worry about it being contagious. But then I just turn off my alarm clock and jump out of bed, dragging myself towards a keyboard yet again.

3.

I am, if somewhat reluctantly, making friends with people at work these days.

After a year marked by one or two social disappointments, I’m testing the waters again. I guess it’s true what they say, that we’re social animals above all else, even the most self-proclaimed antisocial of us.

So I’m hitting the pubs for the now compulsory after work pint, catching up with former colleagues for lunch, mingling at office parties. It still feels a bit like I’m walking around wrapped in an unfamiliar skin, but it’s not an uncomfortable one.

I was chatting to an old friend the other day, and he said something that made me think.

Growing older, he’d realised he could no longer judge his friendships like he’d used to. He couldn’t just walk away from people who’d disappointed him at one time or another anymore. He couldn’t dismiss people based on one or two incompatibilities with the perfect friend image he’d built for himself. His best friends now weren’t people who finished his sentences or got all his jokes. His best friends were the few people who’d stuck around. Imperfect in their friendship, but still there.

4.

Do NOT give me Amazon vouchers.

I’ll just buy ELEVEN books in one go and then you’ll find me feverishly browsing for another bookshelf, because there’s only so many paperbacks you can stack on your windowsill before they’re blocking the light. Who knew light and reading go hand in hand anyway?

For what it’s worth, I’ve so far read seven books this year, which is a miracle considering how much of my time I’ve been spending glued to a pint. Alcohol and books is the way to go, people! That is, if you want to make it out alive of this forsaken, snowed-three-times-this-month London winter!

5.

In other news, V and I are very busy these days.

We’ve just thrown a belated New Year’s Eve party for a friend who had emergency surgery during the real celebrations, we’re taking another friend on a post-breakup seaside trip this weekend, joining a bunch of people for a clubbing night out (Don’t. Ask.) for Valentine’s, and leaving London for our yearly anniversary trip the following week. Then guess what, it’s spring! Season of concerts, bank holidays and tennis tournaments!

So yeah, I’m excited to say the least. There’s something absolutely delicious in browsing your Google Calendar to see brightly coloured squares marking the end of each and every one of the coming weeks. I’ll try and document our this and that as much as I can, especially now that it seems I’ve finally kicked the January blues away, and I’m feeling more like a living, breathing, and only occasionally moaning human being.

Wishing you all a lovely, brightly coloured weekend!