Everyone is talking about it. Batman. And the Colorado shootings. Tragedy doesn't even begin to describe the event. I think we are all in agreement that it was incredibly sad, sickening, heart wrenching.
They say Christian Bale is a real hero because he's visiting the victims in hospital. Sweet, yes. Commendable, yes. Heroic? I think not.
Greater love has no man than this: That he lay down his life for a friend. four of the 12 victims of that night were men who were shielding their girlfriends from the bullets. They. Are the heroes. Truly.
What has saddened me as well was the debates I saw on Facebook about whether or not a three month old baby should have been taken into the cinema. Why is that even an appropriate question??!! 12 people died. 12 sets of family and friends have had their hearts broken. 70 others will face repercussions for the rest of their lives....lets get some perspective here people. Instead of condemning the choices of the parents who took children to see a film, pray for the parents who lost their children that night.
Wednesday 25 July 2012
Tuesday 24 July 2012
Midnight pondering
Why do people act the way they do sometimes? It does my head in. I'm sure I'm guilty of the same actions (or lack of) that have me so frustrated tonight but knowing and acknowledging my own faults shall be for another post. Tonight, I vent.
I love people. I do. Passionately. I am fiercely loyal by nature, and love to help or serve those in need. I give of myself a lot. Not because I want or expect anything back; but because I want to. It's how I show my love.
But sometimes, Occasionally, it would be nice to get some of that care, concern and loyalty back.
Example: my husband is nearly through with a month away in another country. I will not lie; it has been tough. I've been lonely. There have been times when I cried buckets simply because my support hasn't been here. I've missed him with every fibre of my being. What has made it worse is, the people I support the most, the ones who depend on me, haven't made much effort to support me....there were a few hugs on Sunday at church. And one friend has had me over three times. (I think if she hadn't I might have lost my mind.) a few random texts saying "hope you're ok" but no response when I admit that actually no, I'm not ok. Even my house mate has managed to be especially distant and grumpy. Normally he is a lovely lovely guy. I love him dearly. But my loneliness and need for support seems to have pushed him away. Which I get. The very last thing any guy wants is a needy woman around. But would it be SO very difficult to maybe make a bit of effort? I know. I sound like a whiny child. But I feel so very alone tonight. I feel like I get used a bit. Perhaps I should do less for people? No that's not the answer. I know it's not. Nor is becoming mrs cynical trust no one, let no one in, the answer. That would certainly be easy in the short run.
There is, as I'm sure you've been thinking, the fact that I do have Jesus Christ. The friend who is always there. Always supportive. Always listens. And always says exactly what I need to hear. And. He genuinely cares. About me. And knows exactly what it is I need. I understand all of that. But I also understand that God made me as I am. He made me with the personality I have that needs people. I just wish tonight that He would influence someone to reach out and hug me. And love me a little. And just show they care. Because tonight, I'm lonely. And hurting a little. And could use a little support.
I'm glad I've got no one following this blog...,glad its secret. But it helps sometimes, to write what cant be said. . Next time will be more cheerful and less selfish! Promise!
I love people. I do. Passionately. I am fiercely loyal by nature, and love to help or serve those in need. I give of myself a lot. Not because I want or expect anything back; but because I want to. It's how I show my love.
But sometimes, Occasionally, it would be nice to get some of that care, concern and loyalty back.
Example: my husband is nearly through with a month away in another country. I will not lie; it has been tough. I've been lonely. There have been times when I cried buckets simply because my support hasn't been here. I've missed him with every fibre of my being. What has made it worse is, the people I support the most, the ones who depend on me, haven't made much effort to support me....there were a few hugs on Sunday at church. And one friend has had me over three times. (I think if she hadn't I might have lost my mind.) a few random texts saying "hope you're ok" but no response when I admit that actually no, I'm not ok. Even my house mate has managed to be especially distant and grumpy. Normally he is a lovely lovely guy. I love him dearly. But my loneliness and need for support seems to have pushed him away. Which I get. The very last thing any guy wants is a needy woman around. But would it be SO very difficult to maybe make a bit of effort? I know. I sound like a whiny child. But I feel so very alone tonight. I feel like I get used a bit. Perhaps I should do less for people? No that's not the answer. I know it's not. Nor is becoming mrs cynical trust no one, let no one in, the answer. That would certainly be easy in the short run.
There is, as I'm sure you've been thinking, the fact that I do have Jesus Christ. The friend who is always there. Always supportive. Always listens. And always says exactly what I need to hear. And. He genuinely cares. About me. And knows exactly what it is I need. I understand all of that. But I also understand that God made me as I am. He made me with the personality I have that needs people. I just wish tonight that He would influence someone to reach out and hug me. And love me a little. And just show they care. Because tonight, I'm lonely. And hurting a little. And could use a little support.
I'm glad I've got no one following this blog...,glad its secret. But it helps sometimes, to write what cant be said. . Next time will be more cheerful and less selfish! Promise!
Wednesday 18 July 2012
Confessions of a self diagnosing, self medicating, workaholic: How Not to Live.
Confession of self diagnosing, self medicating, workaholic: How Not to Live
Somewhere in my teens I got some wires crossed. That's the only explanation i can come up with for being the way i am: A woman who works too much, doesn't take enough time for myself, and to add insult to injury, has a phobia of doctors. They poke, prod and question and in the end give me the same diagnosis Id come up with myself. Like a lot of people, I, of course, should be granted an honorary degree in medicine from Emory. I could be a real life House. Complete with a walking stick (made necessary by a sprained ankle that's never healed because I've not taken any time off work. Naturally) Somewhere along the way I became convinced that I had to work and work hard to prove my worth. Or maybe it was to prove something else. I don't know. I think mostly it's stemmed from being told repeatedly that I was the lazy child in the family, because I liked to read rather than engage in other activities. Of course that meant I was lazy and would therefore never make it in the real world.
My work is both the most frustrating aspect of my life and yet can be the most rewarding. At times. Well, at its best times.
I am a store manager at a well known coffee shop (the biggest in the UK. hint hint) where I've been the last 6 years. SIX YEARS. six years of my life have gone into making that perfect coffee experience. It's draining. Fun. Busy. Stressful. Rewarding. Frustrating. All of the above. I've spent the majority of career working far too many hours for various reasons. I'm talking 60-70 hour work weeks...."i hope they pay you well!" is often the comment i get from customers who have noticed i made their coffee at seven in the morning and again at seven in the evening. I always smile and say " they pay me exactly what they agreed on my contract. which i signed." I suppose the professional response would be to say " oh yes indeed, they look after me well." I used to say that. But I find i can't say it with as much conviction anymore. Do they look after me? Sometimes. As best they can. I am 1 of 20 store managers in our area. it's easy to get lost. It's not about the money. It's about job satisfaction. Passion. Doing well and being rewarded/recognised. But not at the cost of myself. my relationships. health. marriage. These things were all put behind my job. until recently.
Just before Christmas 2011 I plunged into the darkest time of my life I've yet to experience. Naturally, being myself, I gave few details to my state to anyone, even my husband. I knew I could fight through. Alone. I believe the main cause of my state was over work. 5.5 years of far too many hours finally caught up with me, and I could barely function. Yet i kept going. I should have stopped, gone to see my GP, been signed off for a month and recovered. But I didn't. of course. It nearly cost me my closest friendship. Thankfully we were able to work things out. But not until some serious damage was done. I went days without seeing my husband. (patient man. deserves a sainthood) and I won't even start on my social life...or lack thereof. I got to the point, finally, where i simply couldn't cope. And i asked for help. took a few days off work, and looked at my life from a different perspective. What needed to change? work. work. work. work. It's been a long road to break these habits. They aren't quite broken. But I am getting there slowly . I guess if i could put all of this into one or two sentences I'd say if your job is worth your relationships and real LIFE, go for it. Go crazy. But if what you do, is day in and day out, basically make Lattes, with the vague promise of promotion if you "prove yourself" (again. and again. and again. and again. and again. you get the picture) I say, TO HELL WITH IT. it's a bloody JOB. it pays the bills. Do it well. Give it 100%. but not 200%. Do not live in a coffee shop. work in a coffee shop. work hard. but LIVE your life. before you get to 30 years old and ask yourself what you've done to better either your own way of life, or anyone Else's as a result of that much work. because it is not worth it. Being a workaholic myself, I am aware that saying this to another workaholic doesn't do much good. We are going to do what we are going to do until we break down and figure it out for ourselves. But I have. Finally. and guess what! I can run my store. and run it well. I still earn the same money every month. My store still performs at the top of the area. But i can do that working 40 hours a week not 60. AND THE SKY HASN'T FALLEN YET. yet. It might still. I still panic when I look at my schedule and see what looks like very few hours for myself. I feel guilty working "so few" hours. Then I remind myself that I actually get to see my husband. my friends, my sweet godson who is growing up FAR too fast...and remember that 40 hours is normal. and whats more...IT'S OKAY. i am not worth less or more, if I work a certain number of hours. I do not have to work myself until I collapse to be a good manager. There is a difference between having a good work ethic and being a serious workaholic. A vast difference. and that difference makes all the world. to my world.
So that's what I have to say tonight about work. Next time....who knows? whatever is on my mind. good night dear void. :) get some sleep people. dont' work too hard. :)
Somewhere in my teens I got some wires crossed. That's the only explanation i can come up with for being the way i am: A woman who works too much, doesn't take enough time for myself, and to add insult to injury, has a phobia of doctors. They poke, prod and question and in the end give me the same diagnosis Id come up with myself. Like a lot of people, I, of course, should be granted an honorary degree in medicine from Emory. I could be a real life House. Complete with a walking stick (made necessary by a sprained ankle that's never healed because I've not taken any time off work. Naturally) Somewhere along the way I became convinced that I had to work and work hard to prove my worth. Or maybe it was to prove something else. I don't know. I think mostly it's stemmed from being told repeatedly that I was the lazy child in the family, because I liked to read rather than engage in other activities. Of course that meant I was lazy and would therefore never make it in the real world.
My work is both the most frustrating aspect of my life and yet can be the most rewarding. At times. Well, at its best times.
I am a store manager at a well known coffee shop (the biggest in the UK. hint hint) where I've been the last 6 years. SIX YEARS. six years of my life have gone into making that perfect coffee experience. It's draining. Fun. Busy. Stressful. Rewarding. Frustrating. All of the above. I've spent the majority of career working far too many hours for various reasons. I'm talking 60-70 hour work weeks...."i hope they pay you well!" is often the comment i get from customers who have noticed i made their coffee at seven in the morning and again at seven in the evening. I always smile and say " they pay me exactly what they agreed on my contract. which i signed." I suppose the professional response would be to say " oh yes indeed, they look after me well." I used to say that. But I find i can't say it with as much conviction anymore. Do they look after me? Sometimes. As best they can. I am 1 of 20 store managers in our area. it's easy to get lost. It's not about the money. It's about job satisfaction. Passion. Doing well and being rewarded/recognised. But not at the cost of myself. my relationships. health. marriage. These things were all put behind my job. until recently.
Just before Christmas 2011 I plunged into the darkest time of my life I've yet to experience. Naturally, being myself, I gave few details to my state to anyone, even my husband. I knew I could fight through. Alone. I believe the main cause of my state was over work. 5.5 years of far too many hours finally caught up with me, and I could barely function. Yet i kept going. I should have stopped, gone to see my GP, been signed off for a month and recovered. But I didn't. of course. It nearly cost me my closest friendship. Thankfully we were able to work things out. But not until some serious damage was done. I went days without seeing my husband. (patient man. deserves a sainthood) and I won't even start on my social life...or lack thereof. I got to the point, finally, where i simply couldn't cope. And i asked for help. took a few days off work, and looked at my life from a different perspective. What needed to change? work. work. work. work. It's been a long road to break these habits. They aren't quite broken. But I am getting there slowly . I guess if i could put all of this into one or two sentences I'd say if your job is worth your relationships and real LIFE, go for it. Go crazy. But if what you do, is day in and day out, basically make Lattes, with the vague promise of promotion if you "prove yourself" (again. and again. and again. and again. and again. you get the picture) I say, TO HELL WITH IT. it's a bloody JOB. it pays the bills. Do it well. Give it 100%. but not 200%. Do not live in a coffee shop. work in a coffee shop. work hard. but LIVE your life. before you get to 30 years old and ask yourself what you've done to better either your own way of life, or anyone Else's as a result of that much work. because it is not worth it. Being a workaholic myself, I am aware that saying this to another workaholic doesn't do much good. We are going to do what we are going to do until we break down and figure it out for ourselves. But I have. Finally. and guess what! I can run my store. and run it well. I still earn the same money every month. My store still performs at the top of the area. But i can do that working 40 hours a week not 60. AND THE SKY HASN'T FALLEN YET. yet. It might still. I still panic when I look at my schedule and see what looks like very few hours for myself. I feel guilty working "so few" hours. Then I remind myself that I actually get to see my husband. my friends, my sweet godson who is growing up FAR too fast...and remember that 40 hours is normal. and whats more...IT'S OKAY. i am not worth less or more, if I work a certain number of hours. I do not have to work myself until I collapse to be a good manager. There is a difference between having a good work ethic and being a serious workaholic. A vast difference. and that difference makes all the world. to my world.
So that's what I have to say tonight about work. Next time....who knows? whatever is on my mind. good night dear void. :) get some sleep people. dont' work too hard. :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)