Not exactly better, but...

Ok, ok…I resisted the temptation of deleting the super-depressive post…because this is the place where I (also and more often) talk about my feeling, and these mood swings happen very, very often. And honestly, life here is often hell, and seeing the days going by makes me feel desperate. Even when there are no apparent problem and it looks like the day is passing smoothly, something unexpected, and unpleasant, happens. Even my boss has noticed my reaction to this, and when it occurs he tends to be consoling, rather than angry, or at least he’s angry but says “this is not your fault”, because by now he’s understood that no, I cannot let things flow on me like water on a swam. It’s a romantic thought, but not possible.
But.
There is always something to look forward to, and act consequently, to make it a better life.
So, last Thursday I decided that from next January I’ll work part-time, and dedicate my afternoons to the following activities:

- give private lessons thanks to the cooperation of teaching friend (who I’m sure will pass some of her students to me)
- read more, write more, run more
- take long walks in the fresh air of winter, in the crispy air of autumn, in the light air of spring, even in the hot air of summer
- work more for mother’s second job, because I still cannot find the time and the mental peace to do it after eight hours in the office
- go back to play my saxophone more, and get to learn the bassoon well (we haven’t found a teacher yet…but my hopes are still high)
- live better

So now the countdown has virtually started, and the plan is that I let nine months pass (I “celebrate” my first two years here in November) and two days after that date I go to the boss and say “Hi! From January I’d like to work-part-time, thank you!”. There are also many reasons why they should not have problems to accept this, especially when we are two working on the same things, and often finding ourselves with nothing to do, at all, like last Friday, when I had so little to do that I could plan the weekend in Prague, and my summer holidays (we’re going to Budapest and Paris), plus I could find a beauty farm in northern Italy to go with work-a-holic friend (although I don’t think I’ll go, after all. See later for this), I e-mailed three friends, I started writing a post for my blog on the website of the band…you see the point: nothing to do whatsoever.
Mother is glad to hear my decision, which leaves me feeling light because I thought she wouldn’t like it at all, and ok, I have to pursue my happiness, but it would be good if I did it without worrying my mum. Who is fine with it, and actually likes my plan as it is (office + private lessons = enough money to survive and pay the “rent”), so everything’s fine. And we could walk and look at the stalls in the fair, on Thursday, with this good feeling of “everything is going to be alright”, and I bought a bag and a bracelet. So.

In other news, my new laptop is ace, and I have already watched a thousand movies on it, curled up in my bed, all happy. And more will follow. I have uploaded most of my music files (been “robbing” cd at the band and asking to have more so I can complete my selection, all tidy and classified), created a few writing files, and played Mahjong, which is interesting, I’ve always wanted to play it (ever since I read “The murder of Roger Ackroyd”).

During the weekend I have discussed about the costs for the works in the house, and I became slightly anxious about the issue: I should be able to give at least 5.000 Euro every year, which with mum’s share will make 10 grand a year, so in 5 years we’re done (because this is half the sum we need, and the other half is just ready to be used). I have to check on my income for this year and also, although approximately, on the income of next year with the part-time. Because the thing is, for a moment I thought that maybe it would be better not to go part-time before we finish to pay everything. But this morning, the first e-mail I opened was from my boss, virtually screaming for an order confirmation I had prepared together with one of the salesmen, who’s in charge of that area and usually does things without asking anybody about it. So all was right, I thought, and then I receive this angry e-mail on why I put the packing like that, and why didn’t I show him before, and all that crap, and all I could think was “FUCK!!!!!!”, because I’ve always prepared offers and confirmations with this guy and the boss has always said that he didn’t want to see them, that I had to show them to the salesman only, being for his area; then, about the packing, when I began working here I never wrote the packing by using the number of bags, to avoid more mistakes, and he’s always complained about it, now that I write the number of bags he gets cross and asks me why I did it??? Do I really deserve this? Eight hours a day? Five days a week? Even when he’s abroad? To the point that when he’s in Mexico or Korea he wakes up at 5 o’clock to call me and discuss the things to do, and possibly scream at me?

No, I don’t think I deserve this.

So, today being the “slow life” day (I cannot find articles in English about this thing...maybe tomorrow), and having heard and thought of how we should all live with less stress, and literally take it easy, I have decided the following: I don’t care about going part-time and earning less than I do now. I don’t care about having a 20-year long mortgage. Also since I am not going to retire ever, what with the new reforms and all, so why bother and feel suicidal all this time, and spend my Sundays slowly descending into depression at the thought of another 40 hours of work, and suffer from lack of sleep, and see my days go by and nothing accomplished? Why exactly?
So, I don’t care about earning less and paying for longer to pay off my debts, as long as I can live my day properly, dedicating time to myself the way it should be, and enjoying the sun, and the silence, and the snow when it snows, and having enough time for my house (when it’s ready), and more time for my mum so she has less to do (because I would have time for her second job and I could also keep her house clean so she wouldn’t have to worry about it and could rest more). This is what we were saying some years ago with a friend, that one cannot live for working, but work for living.
And a part-time job, and lessons, should give me just what I need. I am one of little ambitions, after all, because I only read, and watch movies, and run. I like travelling, and that can always be done without spending ludicrous amount of money. But most important, I would feel better, and there is nothing more valuable. What’s the point of earning money if you have to use it on anti-depressants and stuff?
This is the right choice to make.

And now, let me prepare the last details for my low-cost summer trip to Budapest and Paris…

No title, no smile, no light

There would be things to talk about.
But honestly, I have decided that my next post must be something sunny and good. No ranting, or should I say no depression.
Not easy when I cannot sleep properly, I cry on a daily basis and I have this awful feeling that makes me feel sick.
Not easy when I look out of the window and wish I were somewhere else, not easy when I feel so unbelievably bad when I wake up in the morning, and when I am driving to work, and...
I am sending application after application, but nothing is going to change: I am never going to find a way out of this darkness. I have no qualification, I am too old, I have no experience whatsoever.
I am so tired, so, so tired.
What's the point of this useless life?

Positive thinking and deep breath

What can I say…it’s Thursday and can’t wait to go…and begin my anticipated weekend…yes, because I’ve taken Friday off, and I don’t care!
Tonight I’m out for dinner with my friends from university and the bookshop, the happy part of my life, where my only worry was that I was paid next to nothing, and all my money would go into the rent. But I was happy, really, I liked working surrounded by books, chatting to people, giving information, finding information. It must have been because we were friends, there, and there was no jealousy or envy; after all, who would fight over 5 euro per hour?
Anyway, since I’ll be there all evening, and plan to be home pretty late (by the time we have finished there and I have driven Kitty home and am home myself it will be almost four a.m., I think…), I have decided that tomorrow I’m off duty. After all, ex pregnant girl is back, and will be more than happy to have everything in her hands.
I am not in a good mood at all, and it’s easy to understand. Ex pregnant girl (from now on: EPG) is always here and she makes me feel stupid. For example: I have prepared a draft of price list to send; I have included a detail, because I have seen my boss including it, and my mind has followed this path: if I don’t include it he will ask me about it, I will blabber something for excuse and will be shouted at; if I include it he will not say anything or will ask me why I have included it, and I will get shouted at, so in any case I lose. But she won’t understand, and will just remark that no, this is wrong.
This is so difficult.
I have already sent about seven applications for jobs, and I am seriously praying for a bit of luck. The way things are going now, I can only see day after day after day of tormented hours in the office and my little me locked in the bathroom to cry, which is something I would like to avoid, thank you very much.
My mind is running towards different options:
- Option number one sees me being strong and waiting until next January, when I hope that Epg will get pregnant again as per her personal plan, so I will be happily spared from a life in hell, and will continue working and saving money. If she doesn’t, I will ask for a change in my contract and continue working part-time, dedicating my afternoon to studying and possibly giving lessons like I used to do. In the meantime, works at home should begin in April, which means…uh…first floor ready within November, my floor ready within…oh, next February. Which also means more money saved by then. Then, when she is back, maybe she will be part-time, or maybe I will have found something better to do, or…time will see what happens!
- Option number two, and a couple of hours ago I was ready to act, would have seen me ask for part-time starting from April, so I would be kind enough to let the Epg finish her special working time of the moment (6 hours a day) and I would then take my time and use my afternoons with something more productive.

However, after talking to my boss (and holding back the tears, because whenever somebody asks how I am I cannot refrain), I have decided that option number one will do. As I said, I (will) need money for tuition fees, books, and..furniture! A few things will help improve the situation, like my new laptop (tomorrow! It! Will! Be! Mine!), the possibility to write whenever I want, the weekend in London and Stratford I have planned, the thought of all the nice books I will study and read in the next months, and..well, you see what I mean: positive thinking, positive thinking and deep breaths!

Only...Yes, only Tuesday (sigh...)

Apart from my sleepless night (...), I can only say this:

FUCK THIS JOB!!!
FUCK THE EX PREGNANT GIRL!!!
FUCK THE TRIUMVIRATE!!!

She's been here for less than a whole day; she never says hello unless she enters a room that sees me AND other people (ignores me otherwise, like the secretary does); she has to revise most of the things she used to do after a year of motherhood; there are lots of new things she CANNOT know about but won't ask ME! She will ask the secretary! Who may know only because she files the stuff away every day! And when today we got the enquiry from Russia, as she heard me discussing with the head of lab, she came in, said (to the head of lab) "Are you talking about Russia? The packing is wrong!"; then she turned to me and said "When you have finished to prepare it I want to see it".
..............................................................................
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WHAT????????????????????????????????
I'VE BEEN WORKING HERE FOR A WHOLE FUCKING YEAR AND I HAVE PREPARED THE SAME BLOODY OFFERS FOR 13 MONTHS AND YOU WANT TO SEE IF I HAVE MADE A MISTAKE IN THE PACKING AFTER BEING SHOUTED AT FOR MONTHS BECAUSE OF IT?????????????????????????????

The boss's wife told me that she is a very good girl (good as in nice and sweet and kind and generous and blah blah blah); she also said that she's proud, and laughed.
Ok...Can I be proud too then?
Why can't we just divide the tasks and she simply fucks off????
Also, she was jokeing today, but I bet it wasn't much of a joke when she said that she plans to get pregnant again by the end of the year...Oh please, make it real and do it now! I cannot think of spending eight hours five days a week with somebody who still thinks of me as a useless idiot who is stealing her job with no knowledge whatsoever.
Then it feels like I am back to the time when I was a new entry, more than a year ago, and I would see the Triumvirate meet in the pregnant girl's office and whisper, meet at the coffee machine and whisper, meet outside the office and whisper.
Women are awful.
Fuck, this is depressing. What with my not sleeping enough last night, and the usual troubles at home, and whatever else (you don't want another list, do you?), the only feeling I have now is to cry. Go home and cry, and stay at home tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, or ask to work part-time, because who cares, I am becoming useless here, and if the little things that I can do should become a constant worry, then what's the point?

Thank God I'll be at the gym in an hour, and will temporarily forget about this horrible mess.

The Return of the Triumvirate and other stories

I like it when somebody asks me how I am..and he means it. It’s been very sweet of him. So I went home feeling…light, I think. Fine. Of course, being in between the giving of a present, the explanation of how to work with the website (which I should begin in a couple of weeks), the need to go home and sleep, all this made me be almost rude, and too fast in my reply. Sorry about that. But I have really appreciated his question. And his text, later at night, which made me think.

I have a loooong week ahead. Meetings, a dinner, the usual gym, possibly the arrival of my laptop…and the booking of a weekend in London for the end of March, where genius brother could be the special guest, since I have found a few interesting ideas for his courses of English for this summer and we could be doing a tour there to see if the place is good enough for him…

This is the first day with ex-pregnant girl: the Triumvirate is back. I am 100% nervous about it, especially when they arrive, and two minutes later they all go to her office to chat, and then they meet for the coffee break, and then again you hear them whisper, and if you are around they look at you in that way….My shoulders are not happy.
The good thing about it: boss has already shared some of the tasks, and she gets the worst share, at least from my point of view – price lists, calculations, preparation of the stuff for his trip to Russia, messy files about Malaysia and China…I keep on with my offers and confirmations, and so far so good. Actually, she is going to work only 6 hours a day for this first month; then she doesn’t know, since at 5 o’clock she still needs to be out and collect the baby from kindergarten. So I don’t know what’s going to happen: probably they will let her in earlier after lunch, or something. I don’t even care, to be true, and I wish we could have an organised division of the tasks so that I do this, she does that, and we don’t mess with each other.

The weekend was – again – uneventful: chores, lots of running for what I thought would be the last time, but since this week I’m too busy I’m not going to have my cross-trainer before another two weeks, which means that next Sunday I’m still going to use my beloved; not before, the week ahead is a crappy mess of meetings and work. Other things of the weekend: a lot of thinking over what I would like to study for a second degree (complicated choice); a lot of vague thinking over the things I want/need to buy (after the laptop and the cross-trainer, that is: my wish list on Amazon is almost endless…); a list of movies that I want to see whenever I find the time (…); and the excitement at the thought of writing, writing, writing like mad when I get my laptop! I was out for some “virtual shopping” with work-a-holic friend on Saturday afternoon, which is when I saw the cross-trainer that I will soon call “mine”. It was a productive afternoon, if only because I finally found the kettle I wanted, cute and small, and I can see myself making cup after cup of tisanes, and chamomile and instant coffee all evening/night long while watching a movie or writing my useless commentaries on the books I’m reading.
Which reminds me, the bookclub section of this blog is a bit static at the moment…apologies (and cursing) due to a few problems:
Problem one, I don’t have time: meeting after meeting (as mentioned before), resulting in my coming home and going almost straight to bed, or playing a random sudoku before falling in the usual coma;
Problem two, I’m probably not reading anything interesting because the book has been by my bed for more than 10 days now, and I still do not feel like going on. Strange, because I thought I would like it, but apparently…no. But since the creative spark of literary critique has just risen in my tiny brain, I am slowly understanding what makes it difficult to go on reading; therefore, it is now my goal to finish this book and write a short review (possibly within next week) on why this is a book you can avoid reading.

Back to the beginning of this post, and to the message I received from him on Friday night, I knew he wouldn’t remember what he had done to me that I considered special. I am a face in the crowd, I’m sure I’ve said this before, a face you don’t notice, and certainly I don’t make people turn to look at me. I am banal, ordinary, people don’t remember me. Sometimes people do or say things to me, nice things, sweet things, unexpected things, for which I am grateful because they are such rare events that I can’t forget. I store these moments in my heart and take them back to live them again. But people don’t remember them, because they probably don’t mean as much to them. So this is how I keep a precious moment right there, and the maker of this moment is too oblivious or careless.

Anyway...that’s all for now.