I’m having one of those days when you feel about 150 years old and ridiculously tired. I had a rubbish night’s sleep, goodness knows why, and woke up as tired as I went to bed. As we all know, when you’re tired any physical aches and pains come to the fore (a sign of aging, sadly) and even the most mundane of problems seem too much of a mountain to climb.
It’s interesting that over the last year, when I haven’t done any shows or had much of an involvement in the theatre at all, I seem to have been as busy as ever and possibly more so. Goodness knows how I found time to appear in shows, let alone direct them with all the preparation and thinking through that involves. A year or so off of what has been my hobby for almost 40 years seems to have done nothing for my stress levels or energy.
In the spirit of remaining positive (mentioned in this blog last week) I’m trying not to let feeling totally knackered all the time get me down. After all, chores are getting done, the dog is getting walked (and I mean walked. I certainly don’t intend to go jogging with her), the house and garden are in good order and I’m managing to have some sort of a social life (although rather reduced from what it was). Paperwork and bureaucracy are being dealt with and I’m enjoying the radio presenting.
I thought your busiest times of life were meant to be from your mid to late twenties to about forty, when you had young children about the place and were climbing the greasy pole at work. So not in your fifties, when you might reasonably be expected to have reached the zenith of your career, to be able to slow things down a little and take some more time for yourself. But I’m exhausted.
Definitely it’s time for a major life change. I fully intend to have a ripe and fulfilling old(er) age and carrying on as I am really isn’t an option if am to achieve that. As I sit here now I can feel my shoulders aching due to computer work, my back playing up due to an uncomfortable train journey this morning, my sinuses congested due to the stuffy office atmosphere with no fresh air and my eyes wanting to nod because I sleep badly. All minor ailments, none of them life threatening or serious, individually hardly worth mentioning but collectively they really drag you down. The mental effect of cumulative small physical problems is significant.
So, plans are afoot which, if they come off in nine to twelve months time, will push me in a completely different direction and much, much closer towards what I want. I’d like to be free-er with less stress and angst, be able to do something creative, be able to work as much as I want, when I want and have a life with less moaning from others and more satisfaction. I’ll be so, so, so skint, but I’ve come around to the view that money isn’t everything and keeping the shoulder to the grindstone to achieve maximum pension or a house in a posh area or another promotion simply isn’t worth it in so many other ways.
The Hubby and I don’t entirely agree on this. Being more attached to Blighty than I am, he wants to work on with slightly different longer term ambitions. And for some bizarre reason, he thinks working in the public sector is worth it because it makes a difference (hmm - debate!). But he has been very supportive of my proposals and it’s safe to say that in the medium term (definitely not as far in the future as the long term) things will be very different. I have mixed feelings – “what have I done?” being one, bravery another and excitement underpinning it all.
But this time, I’m gonna do it!
Monday 24 March 2014
Friday 21 March 2014
Normally, I try to cover it up....
I’ve just done one of those ‘no make up selfie’ things which are doing the rounds for the cancer charities. As I’m working at home today (I am, really!) I haven’t bothered doing my hair either, so it’s a bit of a double whammy.
I don’t always wear make up, certainly not when I’m just bumming around the house. When I do bother by using at least some tinted moisturiser, mascara and lippy, I invariably forget to refresh it during the day and so by 5pm you don’t know I’m wearing any, anyway. The occasions when I wear full proper makeup and do my hair to look really respectable can probably be counted on my fingers.
It’s a funny thing isn’t it, our cosmetic mask. Putting it on increases our confidence and self esteem, and not wearing it, especially in public, makes us feel vulnerable.
The degree to which we feel that varies, of course. And I think it changes with age; when I was younger I wouldn’t have dreamed of going out without make up even for the most routine of shopping trips. Now, most of the time I can’t be arsed and nip down to Morrisons as natural as the day I was born, spots, thread veins and all. I’ve never understood the women I see on my daily commute sitting on the train and slathering loads of the stuff all over their faces as the train is moving. It jogs and jerks and if it were me I’d end up with mascara all down my cheek or poking the wand in my eye (mind you I am prone to doing that any way). If it’s really so important to you to look immaculately made up, then get up 15 minutes earlier and so it in a civilised way in front of a mirror with proper lights.
The scary thing about this selfie I’ve just taken, which of course is completely unflattering and at a weird angle as I try and peer into my iphone camera lens and look nonchalant, is how much like my mother I look. I’ve always known there were some very strong genetic traits there in the shape of the lower face and nose, but when made up they can be hidden and disguised quite effectively. Without that, they become the dominant feature and if you stood me next to my mother, aunt, grandmother and great grandmother (all no longer with us of course, so they wouldn’t be looking their best) it would be blindingly obvious that we were closely related.
Most of the time, I think I look a little like a bag lady. I dress for comfort and often for dog walking when I get covered in hair and mud, dislike things that are tight or too restrictive and shop for quite a bit of my daily wear from Primarni, which is all very well, until you wash it a few times (I do have standards though, my knickers still come from M&S). My age has meant that my skin, hair and so on has regressed back to its teenage state and is totally unpredictable and unreliable, a bit like most men. I seem to have shadows and bags under my eyes most of the time, and constantly be suffering from some minor ailment or another. The times when I look my scintillating, ravishing best and most gorgeous are becoming fewer and fewer. I’m told, when the next few years are over, that those times will return. Let’s hope so.
The make up free selfie campaign is for charity. The idea is that you text a number to donate three quid, take your photo and upload it to Facebook for everyone to laugh at you. Maybe men should do it too – instead of ‘no make up’ it could be ‘unshaven and hung over’. Now that’s got to be worth a few quid and a good laugh, hasn’t it?
I don’t always wear make up, certainly not when I’m just bumming around the house. When I do bother by using at least some tinted moisturiser, mascara and lippy, I invariably forget to refresh it during the day and so by 5pm you don’t know I’m wearing any, anyway. The occasions when I wear full proper makeup and do my hair to look really respectable can probably be counted on my fingers.
It’s a funny thing isn’t it, our cosmetic mask. Putting it on increases our confidence and self esteem, and not wearing it, especially in public, makes us feel vulnerable.
The degree to which we feel that varies, of course. And I think it changes with age; when I was younger I wouldn’t have dreamed of going out without make up even for the most routine of shopping trips. Now, most of the time I can’t be arsed and nip down to Morrisons as natural as the day I was born, spots, thread veins and all. I’ve never understood the women I see on my daily commute sitting on the train and slathering loads of the stuff all over their faces as the train is moving. It jogs and jerks and if it were me I’d end up with mascara all down my cheek or poking the wand in my eye (mind you I am prone to doing that any way). If it’s really so important to you to look immaculately made up, then get up 15 minutes earlier and so it in a civilised way in front of a mirror with proper lights.
The scary thing about this selfie I’ve just taken, which of course is completely unflattering and at a weird angle as I try and peer into my iphone camera lens and look nonchalant, is how much like my mother I look. I’ve always known there were some very strong genetic traits there in the shape of the lower face and nose, but when made up they can be hidden and disguised quite effectively. Without that, they become the dominant feature and if you stood me next to my mother, aunt, grandmother and great grandmother (all no longer with us of course, so they wouldn’t be looking their best) it would be blindingly obvious that we were closely related.
Most of the time, I think I look a little like a bag lady. I dress for comfort and often for dog walking when I get covered in hair and mud, dislike things that are tight or too restrictive and shop for quite a bit of my daily wear from Primarni, which is all very well, until you wash it a few times (I do have standards though, my knickers still come from M&S). My age has meant that my skin, hair and so on has regressed back to its teenage state and is totally unpredictable and unreliable, a bit like most men. I seem to have shadows and bags under my eyes most of the time, and constantly be suffering from some minor ailment or another. The times when I look my scintillating, ravishing best and most gorgeous are becoming fewer and fewer. I’m told, when the next few years are over, that those times will return. Let’s hope so.
The make up free selfie campaign is for charity. The idea is that you text a number to donate three quid, take your photo and upload it to Facebook for everyone to laugh at you. Maybe men should do it too – instead of ‘no make up’ it could be ‘unshaven and hung over’. Now that’s got to be worth a few quid and a good laugh, hasn’t it?
Monday 17 March 2014
Be positive. Definitely.
I’m always moaning about work in these postings, I know. The commuting on an overcrowded, overpriced and inadequate public transport system, the dull and pointless nature of some of the work which doesn’t really make a difference to people’s lives (unless you count giving a multi millionaire permission to extend his excessively large, luxury house even further with a gym, cinema and underground garage for his Ferraris and Bentleys), the constant ungratefulness of public sector customers, the moaning and complaining from colleagues and the sheer grind of it all gets you down.
So I have decided to be more positive in my communications. Continually griping doesn’t actually make me feel any better and must be incredibly depressing for those that either bother to read my missives or take the time to listen to me.
The problem is I tend to see the world in a rather black and white way. As far as I can see, no one makes any allowances for me so why should I make them for other people. I’ve always been fairly forthright in my opinions (you might have noticed) because my parents taught me not to have hidden agendas and to be open and honest about what you think and feel. As it turns out, that was a pretty crap piece of advice to give because being open and honest as well as forthright makes you no friends and does you no favours. And boy, have I found out the hard way!
My mouth constantly gets me into trouble. And it isn’t even that I fail to stop and think. I DO stop and think, the problem is I mostly think “What the hell” and say it anyway. Quite often, I fail to understand why someone gets upset or angry about something I may have said or written, because to me it’s just a statement of the facts and not said with any malice.
I have discovered throughout my life that really and truly, no one is completely on your side. And that doesn’t mean that someone should always agree with you all of the time; some disagreement and challenge is healthy, and it’s good to hear alternative views and approaches to things. But it is quite surprising how many people underhandedly and actively brief against you just because they don’t like the fact that you have a different approach or will challenge them. I have discovered, for instance, that a member of a group I belong who is now in an influential position is actively briefing against me being a Director again for that group. I don’t know why, but I can only assume that it is simply because they think I will not allow them to do what they want or that they won’t be a shoo in for a role. Their priorities are all wrong – I’m a bloody good Director (not just my own opinion). And I always have the good of the organisation at heart, not just personal aggrandisement. Their loss!
But in the brave new world, I’m not going to let any of that matter because, in the grander scheme of things, it doesn’t. Those people can be as petty and small minded as they like and they can drown in their own bitterness because I’m bigger than them; I have been through a considerable amount of adversity and angst in my life and I’ve come out the other side. I have a husband that loves me (and doesn’t see me as a cash cow or as some romanticised duplicate of his sweet but compliant mother) (well, third time lucky!), two modern and intelligent daughters, a lovely granddaughter and a gorgeous dog. Oh, and two fluffy cats whom I adore and a job which might be horrible but pays reasonably well. I’m clever enough to see my own shortcomings, unlike some of the others, and to know when they matter. I have a reasonably good health and exciting plans for the future.
So I’m going to think of positive, exciting and interesting things to blog about over the next few months. That’s in between writing my books, doing my radio presenting and doing only what makes me happy and gives me fulfilment instead of what everyone expects me to do or what causes me stress and anxiety.
It’s either that or an early grave, and I know which I’d prefer.
So I have decided to be more positive in my communications. Continually griping doesn’t actually make me feel any better and must be incredibly depressing for those that either bother to read my missives or take the time to listen to me.
The problem is I tend to see the world in a rather black and white way. As far as I can see, no one makes any allowances for me so why should I make them for other people. I’ve always been fairly forthright in my opinions (you might have noticed) because my parents taught me not to have hidden agendas and to be open and honest about what you think and feel. As it turns out, that was a pretty crap piece of advice to give because being open and honest as well as forthright makes you no friends and does you no favours. And boy, have I found out the hard way!
My mouth constantly gets me into trouble. And it isn’t even that I fail to stop and think. I DO stop and think, the problem is I mostly think “What the hell” and say it anyway. Quite often, I fail to understand why someone gets upset or angry about something I may have said or written, because to me it’s just a statement of the facts and not said with any malice.
I have discovered throughout my life that really and truly, no one is completely on your side. And that doesn’t mean that someone should always agree with you all of the time; some disagreement and challenge is healthy, and it’s good to hear alternative views and approaches to things. But it is quite surprising how many people underhandedly and actively brief against you just because they don’t like the fact that you have a different approach or will challenge them. I have discovered, for instance, that a member of a group I belong who is now in an influential position is actively briefing against me being a Director again for that group. I don’t know why, but I can only assume that it is simply because they think I will not allow them to do what they want or that they won’t be a shoo in for a role. Their priorities are all wrong – I’m a bloody good Director (not just my own opinion). And I always have the good of the organisation at heart, not just personal aggrandisement. Their loss!
But in the brave new world, I’m not going to let any of that matter because, in the grander scheme of things, it doesn’t. Those people can be as petty and small minded as they like and they can drown in their own bitterness because I’m bigger than them; I have been through a considerable amount of adversity and angst in my life and I’ve come out the other side. I have a husband that loves me (and doesn’t see me as a cash cow or as some romanticised duplicate of his sweet but compliant mother) (well, third time lucky!), two modern and intelligent daughters, a lovely granddaughter and a gorgeous dog. Oh, and two fluffy cats whom I adore and a job which might be horrible but pays reasonably well. I’m clever enough to see my own shortcomings, unlike some of the others, and to know when they matter. I have a reasonably good health and exciting plans for the future.
So I’m going to think of positive, exciting and interesting things to blog about over the next few months. That’s in between writing my books, doing my radio presenting and doing only what makes me happy and gives me fulfilment instead of what everyone expects me to do or what causes me stress and anxiety.
It’s either that or an early grave, and I know which I’d prefer.
Sunday 16 March 2014
Back. Again. Very briefly. For now.
I am conscious that I haven't blogged much recently. To be honest, I haven't felt inspired. But I'm starting to feel creative juices flowing again. And there seem to be lots of outrages going on in the world in various ways, too, for me to get my teeth into. So watch this space, and now I've worked out how to do his from my iPad, there'll be no stopping me.
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