Chicken soup for the congested head
Ugh. I hate feeling congested. Though I do ashamedly and guiltily admit I've been playing the sick card like a royal flush against a deck of straights. Being sick has given me the afternoon off two days in a row, one I used strategically so I could finish an assessment due that evening and the second I used strategically again so I could get out of going to a council presentation way out west. Oh the disorganisation of it all - I didn't even know what the presentation was for or whether I was meant to present something or what my whole role there would be other than the fact I could've taken part in a smorgasbord dinner.
But truthfully - and I really am being truthful - I felt slow, disinterested, unfocused, groggy and congested and there's no point in me being at work if I'm going to just be whingeing to everyone about how sick I feel, making things unproductive not just for myself but also for my fellow co-workers the people who are probably going to become my staff in a few months time ... I shall demandcommand RESPECT.
I like how I can justify anything to myself given just a bit of forethought and PR skill.
Not counting the fact that I probably caught sickness from Z over the weekend having spent the better portion of Saturday with her (and I'm sure the sharing of other bodily functions/splutterings/secretes shall continue on for another good 12 months - YIPPEE FOR US!), I think I've just been rundown physically and emotionally with so much on my plate over the last week, and it's all just come to a head these last two days where I feel too drained to do anything. In fact, I prefer to call my official sick leave as my unofficial mental health afternoons. Firstly, all the dramas at work where I just can't get my head around the politics that goes on. Seriously, I work for a friggin' charity. Why do we treat ourselves so unkindly??? In fact, there's more politics here than at Rehame - the problem there was/is just utterly bad management. The politics caused our department assistant to stage a rather dramatic walk-out on the job - literally walking out, no notice offered, I went to lunch at 12.30pm and came back at 1pm and she was gone. The day after, a fairly senior manager in our office was asked to leave citing an inability to fit in with the culture of said organisation. Coupled with the fact that I deal with a smattering of incompetent admin people, disgraceful servitude towards people I have little respect for and a lack of guidance in my newly created position (made only worse by the fact people assume I know it all), it's enough to do my head in. Has done my head in this week. Thank god for mental health afternoons.
Secondly, I worry about my mum a bit. My grandfather died last Wednesday and I drove her to the airport early Thursday morning so she could attend his funeral and undertake the requisite arrangements in the Philippines. It was sad he died but I'm more sad for my mum. I tend to be quite philosophical when it comes to death, I'm neither afraid of death nor am I unaccepting of the concept of death - despite the fact I have problems dealing with the concept of finality in general. But perhaps I say all this stuff as someone who has not lost a parent, a sibling, a close friend, a partner. Maybe I actually am naive. Time will tell, inevitably, irrevocably.
Thankfully the stress of finding an apartment is now lifted off Z's and my shoulders though! It's still stressful as I try to work out how I'm going to do it, when I'm going to do it, how I'm going to make sure both my current flatmate and future flatmate can both still eat during the changeover period due to the fact they are, in a way, dependent on the same fridge. At least the house hunt is over, I'm really pleased with the apartment we've settled on as well. It's cute, cosy, liveable, personal and green - just the right apartment for both Z and myself methinks. After a Saturday of looking at crappy apartments with no doors on the rooms (tell me, architects and architecture students, WHY THE FUCK ARE APARTMENTS DESIGNED WITH NO BLOODY DOORS ON ROOMS THESE DAYS????), and a period of confusion where I knew I could settle on an apartment that Z was happy to live in but in that I did not want to just settle, we came across the right apartment at the end of the real estate rainbow. Having told one of my work friends that I would now be living with a girl, she decided to take the option more travelled by letting me know how annoying it can be to live with girls - no bathroom time, products, products and products all over the shower. Of course, I had to come clean and say that it was actually me who is the real princess in the MikeyZoo partnership.
And in the midst of all that's happening in my life, I went on a date with a really nice guy who I know is going to make a great friend but, unfortunately for him, is really not going to lead on to anything more Oh, how I love my ego. But in all honesty, he has just been hounding me with text messages and emails since our date and, in fact, wanted to bring me up some chicken soup once he learned I was taking the afternoon off due to sickness. Hmmph, being charming, good-looking and nice can be such a bitch sometimes :) :)
But truthfully - and I really am being truthful - I felt slow, disinterested, unfocused, groggy and congested and there's no point in me being at work if I'm going to just be whingeing to everyone about how sick I feel, making things unproductive not just for myself but also for my fellow co-workers the people who are probably going to become my staff in a few months time ... I shall demandcommand RESPECT.
I like how I can justify anything to myself given just a bit of forethought and PR skill.
Not counting the fact that I probably caught sickness from Z over the weekend having spent the better portion of Saturday with her (and I'm sure the sharing of other bodily functions/splutterings/secretes shall continue on for another good 12 months - YIPPEE FOR US!), I think I've just been rundown physically and emotionally with so much on my plate over the last week, and it's all just come to a head these last two days where I feel too drained to do anything. In fact, I prefer to call my official sick leave as my unofficial mental health afternoons. Firstly, all the dramas at work where I just can't get my head around the politics that goes on. Seriously, I work for a friggin' charity. Why do we treat ourselves so unkindly??? In fact, there's more politics here than at Rehame - the problem there was/is just utterly bad management. The politics caused our department assistant to stage a rather dramatic walk-out on the job - literally walking out, no notice offered, I went to lunch at 12.30pm and came back at 1pm and she was gone. The day after, a fairly senior manager in our office was asked to leave citing an inability to fit in with the culture of said organisation. Coupled with the fact that I deal with a smattering of incompetent admin people, disgraceful servitude towards people I have little respect for and a lack of guidance in my newly created position (made only worse by the fact people assume I know it all), it's enough to do my head in. Has done my head in this week. Thank god for mental health afternoons.
Secondly, I worry about my mum a bit. My grandfather died last Wednesday and I drove her to the airport early Thursday morning so she could attend his funeral and undertake the requisite arrangements in the Philippines. It was sad he died but I'm more sad for my mum. I tend to be quite philosophical when it comes to death, I'm neither afraid of death nor am I unaccepting of the concept of death - despite the fact I have problems dealing with the concept of finality in general. But perhaps I say all this stuff as someone who has not lost a parent, a sibling, a close friend, a partner. Maybe I actually am naive. Time will tell, inevitably, irrevocably.
Thankfully the stress of finding an apartment is now lifted off Z's and my shoulders though! It's still stressful as I try to work out how I'm going to do it, when I'm going to do it, how I'm going to make sure both my current flatmate and future flatmate can both still eat during the changeover period due to the fact they are, in a way, dependent on the same fridge. At least the house hunt is over, I'm really pleased with the apartment we've settled on as well. It's cute, cosy, liveable, personal and green - just the right apartment for both Z and myself methinks. After a Saturday of looking at crappy apartments with no doors on the rooms (tell me, architects and architecture students, WHY THE FUCK ARE APARTMENTS DESIGNED WITH NO BLOODY DOORS ON ROOMS THESE DAYS????), and a period of confusion where I knew I could settle on an apartment that Z was happy to live in but in that I did not want to just settle, we came across the right apartment at the end of the real estate rainbow. Having told one of my work friends that I would now be living with a girl, she decided to take the option more travelled by letting me know how annoying it can be to live with girls - no bathroom time, products, products and products all over the shower. Of course, I had to come clean and say that it was actually me who is the real princess in the MikeyZoo partnership.
And in the midst of all that's happening in my life, I went on a date with a really nice guy who I know is going to make a great friend but, unfortunately for him, is really not going to lead on to anything more Oh, how I love my ego. But in all honesty, he has just been hounding me with text messages and emails since our date and, in fact, wanted to bring me up some chicken soup once he learned I was taking the afternoon off due to sickness. Hmmph, being charming, good-looking and nice can be such a bitch sometimes :) :)