Friday, October 13, 2023
The runaway process
My garbage collection is broken I think.
This is the third iteration of this blog post - and my mind is full of too many things to be able to focus on any sort of theme to write about.
After more than a decade of silence, I feel that this first post should be many things - insightful, celebratory perhaps, maybe a little bit nostalgic even. But the inside of my head is even more untidy than the state of my house. And that's saying something.
Why am I even writing this I wonder? I'm not imparting useful knowledge. I'm not going to make any money from it. I'm not even expecting anyone to read it.
Am I procrastinating from the absolutely gigantic list of tasks waiting for me? Is it just an excuse to sit in bed?
I have no answers. I'm not even sure what the questions are right now. I feel like an orphaned process - still ticking along perpetually with no end in sight. Press escape! Control Z! Reboot the damn thing! Some kind person needs to gently prise me apart and clean out the junk so I can function better.
Monday, June 08, 2009
New beginning
It seems like an absolute age since my last post - in the time since I have been all the way around the world in the holiday of an absolute lifetime.
In the dark depressing days of a cold English winter, with a painful recovering back injury and doom and gloom every day on the news, it was a struggle to even get up in the morning.
It is currently 9.45am and I have been awake since 8.30am pondering whether to drag myself out from under my comforting Norwegian duvet. It's been a long weekend - with much time spent in the kitchen magicking baked goods out of flour, eggs and sugar. Today I might take a well deserved break since the kitchen is about to be renovated, and besides, it will take an army to demolish the amount of cake I have made.
And so it seems that I am slightly in stasis, which is why I am typing random thoughts into this blogging window.
***
It is strange how life just continues, this ever-running cycle, this clock that never stops. On that cold January morning 6 months ago, I left the house for a round the world trip and felt as if the clock had temporarily stopped here. It really feels like that when you are far away from home - and it can really surprise you when you get little news reports that tell you otherwise. Like, so and so has had a baby. So and so has gotten married. So and so have emigrated to South America. It's like you almost expect other people's lives to stop because you aren't there. Is that egotistical? This subconscious idea that you are the centre - the axis around which everyone's lives revolves? On the other hand - to an extent it's kind of true. Whilst you, in holiday mode are filling your days with activities, everyone else is getting on with their daily routines. Jobs, school, weekends sleeping in. Same thing, day in, day out. You call home: Hi mum, I've just been white water rafting/wandering through an active volcano/feeding kangaroos and she says: that's nice. we're planting some strawberries. Nothing has happened. We're all fine. How's the weather?
Now that I'm back, the clock appears to be ticking again. Monday,Tuesdays, family time. Friday is bin day. Wednesday everyone is at the cinema. And just like that, my life has slotted back into this little box marked 'domestic life', and the other box, the colourful one marked 'adventure' has been filed away as a distant memory.
I'm not sad of course, all good things must come to an end in order for a new beginning. I'm looking forward to it.
In the dark depressing days of a cold English winter, with a painful recovering back injury and doom and gloom every day on the news, it was a struggle to even get up in the morning.
It is currently 9.45am and I have been awake since 8.30am pondering whether to drag myself out from under my comforting Norwegian duvet. It's been a long weekend - with much time spent in the kitchen magicking baked goods out of flour, eggs and sugar. Today I might take a well deserved break since the kitchen is about to be renovated, and besides, it will take an army to demolish the amount of cake I have made.
And so it seems that I am slightly in stasis, which is why I am typing random thoughts into this blogging window.
***
It is strange how life just continues, this ever-running cycle, this clock that never stops. On that cold January morning 6 months ago, I left the house for a round the world trip and felt as if the clock had temporarily stopped here. It really feels like that when you are far away from home - and it can really surprise you when you get little news reports that tell you otherwise. Like, so and so has had a baby. So and so has gotten married. So and so have emigrated to South America. It's like you almost expect other people's lives to stop because you aren't there. Is that egotistical? This subconscious idea that you are the centre - the axis around which everyone's lives revolves? On the other hand - to an extent it's kind of true. Whilst you, in holiday mode are filling your days with activities, everyone else is getting on with their daily routines. Jobs, school, weekends sleeping in. Same thing, day in, day out. You call home: Hi mum, I've just been white water rafting/wandering through an active volcano/feeding kangaroos and she says: that's nice. we're planting some strawberries. Nothing has happened. We're all fine. How's the weather?
Now that I'm back, the clock appears to be ticking again. Monday,Tuesdays, family time. Friday is bin day. Wednesday everyone is at the cinema. And just like that, my life has slotted back into this little box marked 'domestic life', and the other box, the colourful one marked 'adventure' has been filed away as a distant memory.
I'm not sad of course, all good things must come to an end in order for a new beginning. I'm looking forward to it.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Glimmer of light
On this crisp autumn morning I sit and contemplate my future as I savour the taste of Tetley's in a bone china cup. The caffeine does wonders for the slight feeling of fatigue after waking up at 8am - some 4 hours earlier than normal.
It has been now, 5 months since I resigned from my job at a famous 5 star hotel in London. I could not have expected that 5 months on I would be jobless, and, worse still, incapacitated in such a way. The last 3 months have possibly been the most painful in my life, both physically and mentally. Since waking up one day with a strange dull backache, I have gone through a rollercoaster of pain and frustration. The inability to walk, to do the simplest of things such as cooking, tidying up, the nights of lying awake and writhing in agony. Wondering constantly - why me? How can it be, at my age when I'm not even 30? Fears about whether I'd ever recover, be able to do normal things again, like going to the shops, like having dinner in a restaurant. I've been a prisoner in my home for weeks on end. Hearing the diagnosis of a herniated disc from my GP was both a relief, and dismaying news. Surely that only happens to old people? More weeks go by. I purchase a stick to help me walk as the pain shooting down my leg makes standing or walking unbearable. I go through a yo-yo period of good days and bad days. Every good day brings me hope of self recovery. Then the bad days make me feel depressed.
Finally I decide to see a specialist. He recommends physiotherapy. And stronger drugs. He is optimistic. He tells me that most people recover within 12 weeks, and that I'd only suffered for 7. Great. Still, it is a glimmer of hope.
The physiotherapist is like an angel from heaven. She tuts when she sees me, this poor broken body bent sideways in the middle from compensating too much for the pain. She tells me that I am no longer allowed to sit down, but have to lie down. I am not allowed to go out walking. I am not allowed to carry shopping bags. I am not allowed to bend, lift, carry, do housework. I lie on the bed having my back stretched by a machine and contemplate this. Finally, I have a real treatment programme which will help me recover. All those things I want to be able to do will re-emerge back into my life if I behave myself like a good patient. I was very cheerful when I went home that day.
It is now 3 weeks later, and the pain has diminished to an uncomfortable tightness in my leg, a slight pinch in my hip. My back feels a bit stiff but I have a new exercise to do to help with that. I can walk around and feel vaguely normal. I can sit! I feel optimistic today, despite my concerns for my big plans for the future. All those dreams of starting my own business, it can wait. Right now, I dream only of being able to go out and have a nice meal somewhere out there in the big world with my boyfriend. Not long now.
It has been now, 5 months since I resigned from my job at a famous 5 star hotel in London. I could not have expected that 5 months on I would be jobless, and, worse still, incapacitated in such a way. The last 3 months have possibly been the most painful in my life, both physically and mentally. Since waking up one day with a strange dull backache, I have gone through a rollercoaster of pain and frustration. The inability to walk, to do the simplest of things such as cooking, tidying up, the nights of lying awake and writhing in agony. Wondering constantly - why me? How can it be, at my age when I'm not even 30? Fears about whether I'd ever recover, be able to do normal things again, like going to the shops, like having dinner in a restaurant. I've been a prisoner in my home for weeks on end. Hearing the diagnosis of a herniated disc from my GP was both a relief, and dismaying news. Surely that only happens to old people? More weeks go by. I purchase a stick to help me walk as the pain shooting down my leg makes standing or walking unbearable. I go through a yo-yo period of good days and bad days. Every good day brings me hope of self recovery. Then the bad days make me feel depressed.
Finally I decide to see a specialist. He recommends physiotherapy. And stronger drugs. He is optimistic. He tells me that most people recover within 12 weeks, and that I'd only suffered for 7. Great. Still, it is a glimmer of hope.
The physiotherapist is like an angel from heaven. She tuts when she sees me, this poor broken body bent sideways in the middle from compensating too much for the pain. She tells me that I am no longer allowed to sit down, but have to lie down. I am not allowed to go out walking. I am not allowed to carry shopping bags. I am not allowed to bend, lift, carry, do housework. I lie on the bed having my back stretched by a machine and contemplate this. Finally, I have a real treatment programme which will help me recover. All those things I want to be able to do will re-emerge back into my life if I behave myself like a good patient. I was very cheerful when I went home that day.
It is now 3 weeks later, and the pain has diminished to an uncomfortable tightness in my leg, a slight pinch in my hip. My back feels a bit stiff but I have a new exercise to do to help with that. I can walk around and feel vaguely normal. I can sit! I feel optimistic today, despite my concerns for my big plans for the future. All those dreams of starting my own business, it can wait. Right now, I dream only of being able to go out and have a nice meal somewhere out there in the big world with my boyfriend. Not long now.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Oubliette
Sometimes I think, that if it were really true that certain fish only remember the last 30 seconds, that it might be nice to live that life.
True, it might be that a human life would be quite meaningless. After all, what is the point in striving for anything, if it's forgotten in an instant? Yet on the other hand, it would spare one from the pain of the past. You would truly live for the moment, ever looking forward.
It seems now, in this technological age that everything is recorded somehow, somewhere. Our thoughts, our actions, digital snapshots of our past, sitting somewhere forever. I used to welcome the great evolution of photo taking. Digital cameras, amazing, now I can store those pictures on my computer to pull out whenever I want to. Yet as time goes on some of those memories become painful, reminders of a different time of my life and all the things that have come after. This picture I take today, will it one day become a painful memory?
That place on my computer where my photos live, where they have lived for a long time, is somewhere I don't go. The photos are stored by date, rather than by label. Dates don't have such firm links in the mind.
It makes me sad to think of these things. And yet I can't seem to help myself.
True, it might be that a human life would be quite meaningless. After all, what is the point in striving for anything, if it's forgotten in an instant? Yet on the other hand, it would spare one from the pain of the past. You would truly live for the moment, ever looking forward.
It seems now, in this technological age that everything is recorded somehow, somewhere. Our thoughts, our actions, digital snapshots of our past, sitting somewhere forever. I used to welcome the great evolution of photo taking. Digital cameras, amazing, now I can store those pictures on my computer to pull out whenever I want to. Yet as time goes on some of those memories become painful, reminders of a different time of my life and all the things that have come after. This picture I take today, will it one day become a painful memory?
That place on my computer where my photos live, where they have lived for a long time, is somewhere I don't go. The photos are stored by date, rather than by label. Dates don't have such firm links in the mind.
It makes me sad to think of these things. And yet I can't seem to help myself.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Retrospective
I woke up this morning feeling like I was a different person. Clearer of mind, at peace with something, though I couldn't quite put my finger on what.
Right now as I sit here, I feel like a fog has disappeared from my entire head. My sight seems keener, my senses sharper. As I walked along the road the sun seemed to be brighter than normal (though this isn't that surprising since it's been very misty of late) and I felt happy. And not only this, but the words have returned to me. I feel like I've had a long period of writers block and suddenly, within my own head I can express myself once again.
In five and a half days I will be starting my new job in my new career. It's been ten months since I quit my job in finance IT and today, I find myself reflecting on that period of time. The things I have done, decided, and thought about. I've come a long way in those months and it's been a turbulent journey, at least, in my head it has.
On the face of it, I have been more relaxed and happy than I have in many years. The stress and frustration of a job that I ultimately didn't enjoy, but still wanted to excel at lifted from my shoulders immediately. I found my own smile again. My cheerful self. Was I good at my job? The bank seemed to think so. Was it good for me? I don't think so. But the honeymoon period didn't last for long. There is only so long you can tell yourself that you deserve a rest before the uncertainty of your future sets in and casts a grey shadow over your leisure. It marked the start of a rollercoaster of emotions.
High notes:
Low notes:
It has been so easy to share in all the good things with people. The enthusiasm, the optimism. And yet, I have spent a lot of time in solitude comtemplating the things that weren't so easy to voice. Things that I couldn't share. Life has taught me that to inspire others' confidence in you, you have to demonstrate great confidence in yourself. From other people's perspective, I must have been having a great time, long lie-ins, nothing to do and nowhere to be. I could do as I please and had nothing to stress about. And yet the more time you have, the more you spend thinking about things you probably shouldn't.
In a few days time I will rejoin the world of work and responsibility. I will be able to prove to myself whether I made the right decision in pursuing happiness over money. I trust in my instincts, it's done good so far..
Right now as I sit here, I feel like a fog has disappeared from my entire head. My sight seems keener, my senses sharper. As I walked along the road the sun seemed to be brighter than normal (though this isn't that surprising since it's been very misty of late) and I felt happy. And not only this, but the words have returned to me. I feel like I've had a long period of writers block and suddenly, within my own head I can express myself once again.
In five and a half days I will be starting my new job in my new career. It's been ten months since I quit my job in finance IT and today, I find myself reflecting on that period of time. The things I have done, decided, and thought about. I've come a long way in those months and it's been a turbulent journey, at least, in my head it has.
On the face of it, I have been more relaxed and happy than I have in many years. The stress and frustration of a job that I ultimately didn't enjoy, but still wanted to excel at lifted from my shoulders immediately. I found my own smile again. My cheerful self. Was I good at my job? The bank seemed to think so. Was it good for me? I don't think so. But the honeymoon period didn't last for long. There is only so long you can tell yourself that you deserve a rest before the uncertainty of your future sets in and casts a grey shadow over your leisure. It marked the start of a rollercoaster of emotions.
High notes:
- Having the most fun ever on my course, doing something I loved and had great interest in
- Having the freedom of time
- Meeting new people and discovering I'm not alone in wanting to pursue a new career
- Being able to catch up with friends
- Being able to sort out the rest of my life eg finances
- Feeling relaxed and rested most of the time
- Experiencing new things
Low notes:
- Starting to worry about money and spending
- Boredom (after a while)
- Feeling like I had no chances of finding a job
- Frustration at losing my sense of financial independence
- Worries that I wasn't good enough
- Ebbs of low confidence in general
- Feeling a bit excluded from all I used to know, the dislocation of living life in a slightly difference pace
- Feeling like I wasn't doing anything worthwhile and that I should be
- Worries of not being able to meet my own expectations
It has been so easy to share in all the good things with people. The enthusiasm, the optimism. And yet, I have spent a lot of time in solitude comtemplating the things that weren't so easy to voice. Things that I couldn't share. Life has taught me that to inspire others' confidence in you, you have to demonstrate great confidence in yourself. From other people's perspective, I must have been having a great time, long lie-ins, nothing to do and nowhere to be. I could do as I please and had nothing to stress about. And yet the more time you have, the more you spend thinking about things you probably shouldn't.
In a few days time I will rejoin the world of work and responsibility. I will be able to prove to myself whether I made the right decision in pursuing happiness over money. I trust in my instincts, it's done good so far..
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Wet dreams
It's been a little while since I posted anything dream-related. That's not to say that I haven't had any dreams of note - rather I've had a lot of my mind and I forgot them a lot easier than in the past.
These days, my lifestyle seems to be much more conducive to dreaming. In other words, I am unemployed and don't have to get up so early. Better still, I wake up early and then go back to sleep, which is the best way to enter into the world of the Dreaming.
Of late, I've had some strange repetitions of the same dream. I will be doing something very personal, like taking a bath when the door will keep opening and members of my family will walk in and talk to me. In my dream I am always shocked and traumatised by this, but none of the people involved will be - it never seems to bother them that I am sitting naked in the bath or that I will be shouting at them to go away. Last night I had that dream again, only this time I was taking a shower. My housemate, brother, brother's girlfriend, they all wandered in and chattered idly.
I wonder what it means. I guess if I were to take a guess then perhaps I am harbouring some fear of people I know being able to see into my private self. Obviously in a metaphorical sense rather than a literal one. Perhaps I am afraid of people knowing the real me. The unadulterated one. In my dreams I am always flustered and anguished but somehow the door is always open. Is it because it can't be locked? Or is it rather that I leave it open on purpose?
Interestingly, an interpretation that I found on Google seems to suggest that dreaming of taking a bath represents a need to undergo some sort of metaphorical cleansing. To quote:
To dream that you are taking a bath, signifies a cleansing of your outer and inner self and a washing away of difficult times. This dream may also be symbolic of ridding yourself of old ideas, notions, opinions, and other negativities. Your dream may be pointing toward forgiveness and letting go.
I'm not really sure if I know what that is, if that's the case. I've already 'cleansed' myself out of a job. I'm not holding any grudges, I'm not having difficult times (quite the contrary in fact). Perhaps my dream just means that I've spent far too long decorating my new en-suite....
These days, my lifestyle seems to be much more conducive to dreaming. In other words, I am unemployed and don't have to get up so early. Better still, I wake up early and then go back to sleep, which is the best way to enter into the world of the Dreaming.
Of late, I've had some strange repetitions of the same dream. I will be doing something very personal, like taking a bath when the door will keep opening and members of my family will walk in and talk to me. In my dream I am always shocked and traumatised by this, but none of the people involved will be - it never seems to bother them that I am sitting naked in the bath or that I will be shouting at them to go away. Last night I had that dream again, only this time I was taking a shower. My housemate, brother, brother's girlfriend, they all wandered in and chattered idly.
I wonder what it means. I guess if I were to take a guess then perhaps I am harbouring some fear of people I know being able to see into my private self. Obviously in a metaphorical sense rather than a literal one. Perhaps I am afraid of people knowing the real me. The unadulterated one. In my dreams I am always flustered and anguished but somehow the door is always open. Is it because it can't be locked? Or is it rather that I leave it open on purpose?
Interestingly, an interpretation that I found on Google seems to suggest that dreaming of taking a bath represents a need to undergo some sort of metaphorical cleansing. To quote:
To dream that you are taking a bath, signifies a cleansing of your outer and inner self and a washing away of difficult times. This dream may also be symbolic of ridding yourself of old ideas, notions, opinions, and other negativities. Your dream may be pointing toward forgiveness and letting go.
I'm not really sure if I know what that is, if that's the case. I've already 'cleansed' myself out of a job. I'm not holding any grudges, I'm not having difficult times (quite the contrary in fact). Perhaps my dream just means that I've spent far too long decorating my new en-suite....
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Waiting by my Inbox
I've always thought it strange how I can coast along for a while without any clue what I am going to do when along comes my answer as if by divine intervention. And sometimes it seems to appear as a strange string of coincidental events.
On Thursday I had dinner with my best friend, we hadn't caught up since before I resigned. We had a great girlie chat over a lingering dinner in a strange restaurant situated in the middle of a park in the city of London. She wanted to hear all about my plans to become a patissier. Only, I hadn't really made them yet. Suddenly she whips out a piece of paper and said that she'd felt guilty about missing my birthday and how she wanted to send me on a course in Paris to make up for it. Paris, much as I think it's a great city, I have some distaste for the old-fashioned snobbery within it. Particularly within culinary circles. So I said that I'd think about it. We chatted about lots of things, about travel and boyfriends. I told her that I was really thinking about going back to visit Vancouver this year.
The next morning I mention the course thing to my boyfriend. I wanted to test the waters to see if he wanted to visit Paris so I wouldn't have to go over there alone. I also mentioned my doubts, especially since the course is run by Le Cordon Bleu - a very well-known, and expensive company and accreditation. He promised to help me look around to see if there were any alternative options abroad..
The next thing I know, he mentions a training course in Vancouver. Full-time intensive and certified. This is when it clicked. That moment when all became clear.
I wanted to go. I am scared and excited at the same time, and it's been weighing on my mind ever since. I couldn't sleep last night for thinking about it and this morning I dropped them an e-mail to ask if they have space in the next program which begins in September. I guess I won't know until tomorrow at the earliest. And even then there are many things that I have to consider.
In my heart I know that I want to do this - this opportunity to do what I want to do properly. It'll be hard work - it's 6 months, 5 days per week, 7 hours per day. It's in a different country, away from all my friends and family. And my boyfriend. Can I really bring myself to leave them all behind for so long? Am I prepared to spend this much time away from my boyfriend, who I have been almost constantly attached to for the last 2 years?
I guess I'll have to wait and see if there is space on the course and then re-think. It's such a scary thought.
On Thursday I had dinner with my best friend, we hadn't caught up since before I resigned. We had a great girlie chat over a lingering dinner in a strange restaurant situated in the middle of a park in the city of London. She wanted to hear all about my plans to become a patissier. Only, I hadn't really made them yet. Suddenly she whips out a piece of paper and said that she'd felt guilty about missing my birthday and how she wanted to send me on a course in Paris to make up for it. Paris, much as I think it's a great city, I have some distaste for the old-fashioned snobbery within it. Particularly within culinary circles. So I said that I'd think about it. We chatted about lots of things, about travel and boyfriends. I told her that I was really thinking about going back to visit Vancouver this year.
The next morning I mention the course thing to my boyfriend. I wanted to test the waters to see if he wanted to visit Paris so I wouldn't have to go over there alone. I also mentioned my doubts, especially since the course is run by Le Cordon Bleu - a very well-known, and expensive company and accreditation. He promised to help me look around to see if there were any alternative options abroad..
The next thing I know, he mentions a training course in Vancouver. Full-time intensive and certified. This is when it clicked. That moment when all became clear.
I wanted to go. I am scared and excited at the same time, and it's been weighing on my mind ever since. I couldn't sleep last night for thinking about it and this morning I dropped them an e-mail to ask if they have space in the next program which begins in September. I guess I won't know until tomorrow at the earliest. And even then there are many things that I have to consider.
In my heart I know that I want to do this - this opportunity to do what I want to do properly. It'll be hard work - it's 6 months, 5 days per week, 7 hours per day. It's in a different country, away from all my friends and family. And my boyfriend. Can I really bring myself to leave them all behind for so long? Am I prepared to spend this much time away from my boyfriend, who I have been almost constantly attached to for the last 2 years?
I guess I'll have to wait and see if there is space on the course and then re-think. It's such a scary thought.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)