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EVERYBODY STAY CALM!!

“Sometimes I’ll start a sentence, and I don’t even know where it’s going. I just hope I find it along the way.” – Michael Scott, The Office, Season 5

It’s been a funny kind of a week for me professionally. And not kitschy American sitcom funny either.

Before we continue, I should warn you – I’ve recently discovered the American version of The Office and I’m spending an unhealthy amount of time binge watching it, so I only think about everything through the lens of The Office now. Apologies in advance if any references slip through the net.

Where was I?

So, my team at work have been in the run-up to a restructure for a while now, and midweek last week was when we all learned where we sit in the corporate family tree. To give you an idea of my initial emotional reaction on the day:


Heh. Sorry, it had to be done somewhere. It’s out of my system now. I think.

So, on Wednesday, I learned that what the restructure potentially means for me is that if I’d like to keep my current role I’ll have to compete with one of the loveliest humans I’ve had the pleasure of working with. I’m quite partial to said role – in the time I’ve been doing it, I’ve gone from fumbling my way through most social interactions  to driving up and down the country doing all sorts of things that would’ve previously had me cowering in a broom cupboard. Now, I’m not one for over-exaggerated statements, but it’s made me at least a billion squillion times more confident than I used to be. Plus ten.

To give things a bit of context, this new-look structure does come with a whole heap of other positions most of us can go for, and even in the event that I don’t nail the position/s I’m after, I’m very lucky to work for a company that gives you a tonne of opportunities to find something suitable in the rest of the pretty sizeable business. I’d be stupid not to acknowledge how rare that is. This whole situation is the very definition of “It’ll be fine. Untwist those undercrackers, ma’am.”

However, I am first and foremost a creature of emotion, and so upon hearing the news, I spent the entire afternoon oscillating between optimism bordering on psychopathy, and short, sharp bursts of ugly-crying. Apparently I process emotions by loudly feeling them all at once.

I’ve since gained a few days of restored sanity and perspective, so I figured I’d share some of the good things that this spell of unsettlement has brought up, because why not? Isn’t the whole point of all life experience to document it on the internet? No? Oh, well, I’ve started now:

Some good things

  • Whether I get to write for money (hands down the best bit of my jobbo) or not at the end of all this, I’m fortunate to have a passion that I can do anywhere, with little to no specialist tools. Case in point – I’m currently typing away in my spare room, with the dog wheezing at me in support. Or fear. My hair is doing some pretty crazy right angles right now because I decided that my need to blog outweighs my need to not look like the creature that lives under your bed today.
  • Not to brag (that’s a lie, I’m totally bragging), but I know some pretty excellent people. People from all corners of my life have been proper lovely and supportive this week without my needing to ask, including but limited to:
    • People I work with, who are in a similar position to me and owe me nothing, but have been brilliant anyway. Especially the one person who’s in the closed pool of two with me for our current role. They’ve been nothing but honest and sincere with me since the second we found out about the situation we’ve found ourselves in.
    • Family members, who know the way to my heart – chips. My heart is located in my stomach, and my stomach likes chips.
    • Resident Boy – bought me Nando’s (see previous point) and has been saving up amusing videos of dogs being awesome on Facebook to show me at the end of each day. There is no situation that can’t be made better by clips of puppies trying to get through gates with sticks that are too wide in their mouths.
    • Friends who’ve been thrusting my blogs in the faces of people they know to keep the flames of my undying need for attention stoked.
  • I’ve learned that I’m tougher and more ambitious than I previously thought I was. This could be denial speaking here, but I’m pretty much fine…like, actually fine. Granted, it’s not a ride I’d have voluntarily queued up for at the hypothetical theme park analogy I’m going to clumsily shoehorn in here, but now I’m on it, I’m seeing that it’s not that bad. Being put in a position where you have no choice but to adapt is uncomfortable, but kind of exhilarating. Yeah, you can still have a nice day out if you don’t go on the rides, but there’s only so much you can experience while you’re on the ground, holding the handbags and coats while everyone else is facing their fears and seeing things from a whole new perspective.

Anyway, worst comes to worst, I can always DECLARE BANKRUPTCY!!

Been through a similar uncomfortable situation yourself that’s come with its own set of surprising silver linings? I’d love to hear about it – pop it in the comments =)

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Yours gratefully, me.

Currently semi-horizontal in bed, praying for the stabbing to stop. I’m one of the ‘lucky’ women in my family who gets the odd day where, for no apparent reason, we feel like we’ve eaten a cutlery drawer load of knives and washed them down with a tall glass of drawing pins. The remedy is to writhe around like a beached sea creature and loudly announce your imminent death to all and sundry until it goes away…and then ask what we’re having for dinner.

Much as I’m sure you came here to hear tales of my digestive woes, I think I’ll write something a bit more warm and fuzzy, and a bit less yucky and stabby – it’s nearly Christmas, after all; A time for getting drunk with your family and wetting yourself with laughter while your Nan reluctantly plays (and slays at) Cards Against Humanity. It’s also a time for gratitude. So here’s some stuff I’m grateful for:

Stomach knives

I’m too highly strung for actual relaxation, so my occasional bouts of gastric fuckery allow me a guilt-free opportunity to sit in bed during daylight hours, binge watching sitcoms with a slack jaw and no bra on. I really hope the government isn’t watching us through our screens, because whoever got the job of watching me today was in for a treat.

Family

As I write this, both of my sisters and their partners are stationed down the road at my family home in readiness for Christmas celebrations, which fills me with all the happy feelings. On Boxing day (I’m spending Christmas day at t’other half’s parents’ house this year), we will bicker about our not-always meshing opinions, drunkenly accuse each other of being the most drunk, and bond over the fact that our granddad has told us all to “fuck off out of my kitchen” at least once each within the last half an hour. Genuinely cannot wait!

Frands

Friends are the family you choose to annoy intermittently with your presence, and the holiday season gives me a great excuse to make mine eat food and drink things in my company. I know your friends are probably pretty cool and all that, but mine are better. It’s just a fact.

One sweet unicorn sent me a paperback copy of Stephen King’s On Writing yesterday, which I LOVE but have never owned in a physical format (I have the eBook and audio book versions) for no reason other than she knew I’d like it.

Another is a self-employed entrepreneur/empower-er of women that has a bajillion and twelve jobs and responsibilities, but still finds the time to pencil in regular “eating sweets and talking lots” sessions for us both throughout the year.

A third keeps in touch by sending me jokes and videos that offend me to my core, but makes up for it by being one of the funniest, most genuine and ridiculous humanoids I know (the ridiculous ones are the best ones). I could go on, but all this sincerity’s repeating on me a bit. Gag

Boyfrand

Andy’s super power is being my literal opposite and somehow tolerating it. I am a ceaseless merry-go-round of emotions and neurotic movement.

Picture a beach. Andy is a chill rock pool, just being some rocks in the sun. Not making any noise, not bothering anyone, full of crabs….(heh, sorry. He doesn’t really have crabs), having a lovely time…

And here I come – the wave – hurling myself head first at him with all my being, screaming “AAAAGH, I’M A FUCKING WAVE!!”, and projecting all my insecurities onto him because he’s a rock pool, so I assume that he’s the same as me because all I can see in my panic is myself reflected back. Okay, that’s a shit analogy. Here’s an example conversation that might portray it a bit better:

Me: <<feeling anxious because personality reasons>> Hey, you okay?
Andy: Yeah, fine.
Me: Just fine? What’s wrong? You not feeling great? You don’t seem to be feeling great. Why aren’t you smiling?
Andy: No, I’m fine.
Me: I can tell you’re not.
Andy: <<Happily continues to watch TV>>
Me: You never share anything with me! <<flounces off>>

Half an hour later, after I’ve reverse flounced back into the living room.

Andy: You okay?
Me: Yep, fine.
Andy: Hungry?
Me: << Instantly perks up like nothing’s happened >>

Yep, so there we have it. I have lots and lots more to be grateful for, but I have more medicinal sitcoms to watch. It’s good for my health. Plus, I have about nine seasons left of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia to catch up on.

While I’m doing that, tell me what you’re grateful for this Christmas! I’d love to know 🙂