Tag Archives: Career

A different take on the same old problem

28 Sep

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Sometimes I feel so lonely I could die.

I’ve had a run of weekends recently when none of my friends were about. This is perhaps the fourth weekend in a row that I’ve spent swimming, going to yoga, and watching TV. This weekend I decided to start watching ‘Sex and the City’ from the beginning. There is no better therapy. So much of it rings so true. And it makes me feel OK to admit certain things to myself. Like the loneliness. The fear of dying alone. The resentment of smug couples and yummy mummies.

It hit me somewhere between Season 1 and Season 2 that – although I want to meet someone – what I’m really missing right now is, well, more friends. I don’t want to paint myself as a total loser. I do have friends. But a combination of factors means most of them don’t live in London. Or, don’t live in London anymore. Work is super sociable. During the week I’m surrounded by colleagues who I genuinely consider to be friends. But the weekends. Ugh. There’s nobody, unless I jump on a train to Scotland (which I’ve been doing more and more of this past year).

So maybe what I want isn’t necessarily a boyfriend.

I watch ‘Sex and the City’ and I’m so envious of that group of women with each other to turn to. That’s another thing – most of my friends in London are men. They’re fun. They’re great company. But it’s not the same as having a group of girlfriends.

So what do I do?

There’s no way I’m ever moving back to Scotland. But maybe I need to hit “Restart” on my social life.

I have tried this past year. I started yoga to try and meet new people. I didn’t meet anyone, but I discovered I love yoga. Maybe language classes would be more sociable? So I started Italian, but three classes in I couldn’t keep up with the homework and had to forget it.

If only there was a Tinder for making new friends. I have no idea how at the age of 32, settled with a flat and a career and ready-made life I go about creating a new social circle. Any ideas?

Because more and more I’m feeling like I need to prioritise. And as much as I want someone to go through life with, and marriage, and kids, and happily ever after, I also want someone to call after I’ve been on dates, and talk to before them, and visit Topshop with, and bitch about work over coffee, and eat pizza and watch DVDs.

I actually have a date this afternoon. I almost forgot.

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Here we go again

19 Aug

I’ve been up since 5am on account of a very, very important prospective client coming in. The very, very important prospective client left at noon, and I’ve been running around the office since trying to sort things out and catch up on everything I haven’t been doing while I was preparing for the very, very important prospective client. 

Now, it’s nearly 5.30pm, and how I wish I was heading home to eat fish fingers and watch Real Housewives. 

But I have a date tonight. And it’s too late to cancel. 

C (we will call him “C”) lives in South London (boo). Works in tech for a bank (hmm). And has quite good chat. 

This is our first date. We met on the eHarmony. 

He has booked a table for sushi at 8.30. 8.30. So late for me on a school night. What am I supposed to do until 8.30?

He has booked it at a place in Covent Garden. Hmm. Never had a date anywhere near Covent Garden that went well. Tourists, anyone?

Oh well, here goes nothing. 

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Be right back

16 Jul

I haven’t been posting this week because this week has been like this:

Work.

Work.

Work.

Argue with people at work.

Work.

Work.

Migraine.

Work.

Migraine’s still there.

Work.

Migraine ain’t giving up.

Work.

I would like to extend a big “Thank you” to the person who has been sending me lovely text messages to keep me sane while I cry into my coffee (well, I’ve had to switch to green tea now on account of all the migraining).

Normal service will resume shortly here on the pizza of doom.

Green tea is not that nice. Just saying.

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Yesterday was plain awful

10 Jul

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Yesterday was stupid.

I woke up at 4.30am, and couldn’t get back to sleep. So I went for a run just after 5. I had to be in work shortly after that, but stopped to treat myself to a fruit cup and coffee from Pret.

Uh. Oh. This was where I should just have turned around and gone back to bed. The fruit was dried out and sour. The coffee had milk in it. I don’t do milk. I don’t like it. It’s makes me gag. And, on more than one occasion, vomit. What a way to ruin a coffee – and my Wednesday.

Then work began. And did not stop. It went on, and on, and on. Until around 6.30pm when I was thinking I could get ready to pack up and go home, but answered a call from the New York office. One of my team hadn’t sent their work on. The buck stops with me. And when I couldn’t get through to him on the phone, or find the files on the server, I had to redo the work.

(I should also mention that by this point in the day I had consumed at least 7,000 calories. I do not think this would have happened had I enjoyed my fruit cup that morning.)

I left work, and it was raining. I decided I needed to walk a lot to try and calm myself and get some exercise, so walked up to Islington to go to Waitrose and buy some pumpkin ravioli. At the back of my head, I kept thinking I would not have time to digest said ravioli before bed, but I wanted it so much.

Cue a mini meltdown in Waitrose when every single person on the tills decided to just stop and chat to their customers for a good ten minutes rather than actually serve anyone else. Cue customers behind me hassling me to hassle the checkout staff. It was all very stressful.

And then there were no buses.

I got in the door to my flat, anxious to get this pumpkin ravioli cooking ASAP. And the phone rang. It was my Dad.

“Dad, I literally just got in the door.”

By this point it is past 9pm.

And he talks, and talks, and talks. Mainly about the weather.

I got kind of snippy. Then made my ravioli, ate it in a rush, and then called him back to apologise for being a grump, at which point my Mum wanted to talk.

I stuffed myself with more chocolate.

DID I MENTION HOW HORMONAL I AM RIGHT NOW?

And went to bed.

It was a stupid day.

But what I really wanted to tell you all is that I did not cry. I got angry with a few people, but I did not end up locked in a cubicle at work trying to calm down. And I didn’t wish that I was coming home to someone to tell about my day and cuddle and love.

I was, in fact, 100% delighted when I put down the phone to my parents, turned on the TV, and had a good hour to myself before falling asleep.

This, my friends, is progress.

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Who are we all, anyway?

5 Jul

Alaska, two gray wolves at the forests edge.

Yesterday was our company conference.

This means that my day started super early at a hotel in central London, making small talk and eating stupidly small croissants. We then had a whole day of “exploratory” exercises that were meant to help us decipher who we are as individuals, and as a business. The day was run by an external company. I (and most other people) took an instant dislike to the man running it. Ugh. He made my skin crawl. He was a fat man on a massive ego trip, and also a man incapable of referencing any success story (business or otherwise) that featured a woman. He also misquoted Steve Jobs. Repeatedly.

It has to be said – the feedback from most people was that the highlight of the day was a five-minute presentation I gave in the afternoon which compared our important marketing work to the work of Dr Cristina Yang in Grey’s Anatomy, and then went on to assign “animal spirits” that illustrate our company culture. In case you’re wondering, we are penguins, wolves and cats.

I’m just showing off, but the point is, the rest of the day felt simulated, manipulated and very, very inauthentic.

What was authentic, was sitting in a pub sixteen hours later, drinking wine and talking about life and love and – essentially – who we are with two of my colleagues. One, a man, married, in his early 50s, once divorced already. The other a girl, around my age, very recently married. And then me. Single as a hungry mole.

We were discussing our own love lives. I was telling them more about the pizza of doom. The guy was discussing his first marriage. The girl was talking about how different she and her husband are, and how that helps them to fit. It was deep, dude. And we were all agreeing that life and love take all kinds of different shapes, but none is less relevant than the rest. Nobody is less important because of their circumstances. What is important is that you’re happy.

In the past few weeks, I feel happy again. My heart feels glad. I’m sure you’ve noticed a change in my posts. I’ve certainly noticed a change in my ability to keep mascara on my face.

Now, this brings me back to the wolf animal spirit. You might be wondering what that was all about. Perhaps it sounds ferocious or brave. But, no, the wolves are a symbol of support. We have a fiercely supportive culture in my company. Just like a pack of wolves, in which everyone has a role. In a pack of wolves, there are hunters, protectors, there are even wolves who play the clown to keep everyone’s spirits up. They all do their thing well, and I’ll bet that their wolfy self-esteem is all hooked up in that. They don’t need to aspire to be anyone else because the other wolves value them for being exactly who they are. And that’s got to feel good. Everyone wants to be loved for being themselves, right?

Likewise, in my company we all have our own roles to play. Our niches. Whether we’re creative, or best at strategy, or building client relationships, or project management, we find what we’re good at and we do that. To the very best of our abilities.

Which is kind of how it is in life, right? Clearly, I have missed the boat on being one of those girls with the perfect love story. But that doesn’t mean I’m not perfect (imperfections and all) just the way I am.

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Relationship reset

2 Jul

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Oh. Wow. I’m tired.

We’re launching a new website at work tomorrow. I haven’t stopped in days. And when we get to this stage and stakeholders get involved for sign off, every meeting means unpicking work already done. Going back. Rewriting. Redesigning. Recoding.

It’s frustrating because you invest hours and even days in work that goes nowhere. But for all the reworking, you do end up with a better product.

Sound familiar?

Excuse the stretched out metaphor, but it’s easy to feel like you’ve wasted time and energy, love and hope on relationships that don’t work out. You think you’ve met “the one”, everything is great, and then – boom – you’re back to the start. Picking up the pieces. Trying to date again. Building new connections. That’s really tough. And quite the head f***.

I know since the pizza of doom I’ve felt like I wasted a huge life investment.

But if I can keep the faith that this website is going to be worth the insane amounts of effort, I can keep the faith that my life will be worth all the relationship resets.

And I’ve never been afraid of a little hard work.

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What we can learn from flowers

1 Jul

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It has been rainy here in London.

And I’ve been working my paws off on several big projects.

Yesterday I planned to get out of work on time and go to yoga. Then I was going to make a delicious dinner. And watch Catfish.

In reality this is how things played out: I got stuck in a (very boring) meeting until 7.30pm. I left work while it was raining cats and dogs and what definitely felt like elephants. When I got home there was no food in the fridge. I fell asleep trying to watch Catfish.

But, on the way home I did stop to buy myself flowers. Beautiful pink gerberas to be precise. There’s a photo above. Just look at the gorgeous little poppets.

Today, I think work was even more stressful than yesterday. I got home exhausted (having missed yoga again) and saw my flowers on the windowsill which cheered me up immensely. And then I noticed that while I was at work and the sun had been shining in on them, each flower had turned to face the direction of the light.

Let this be a lesson to us all, my lovely blogger buddies.

Even on rainy days, turn towards the sunshine.

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Graduation

29 Jun

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I don’t remember the exact date (which is funny when I think of all the dates and anniversaries that I do obsess over), but it was ten years ago right around this week that I graduated from university. I was 22 years old. I was blonde (with the help of a lot of chemicals). I was fat (with the help of a lot of burgers, beer and biscuits). And I had absolutely no idea what was next.

Some of my friends were going travelling, taking time off to explore Australia and Thailand and other exotic locations. Some of my friends were coming back to university to start post-graduate studies. I had a vague idea that I wanted to work in marketing, a job in an olive oil shop, and a holiday in Spain booked with my friend Francesca.

But I wasn’t worried. Well, not exactly. I do remember about ten months later having a bit of a breakdown on my parents because I wanted someone to plan things with and someone to help me decide what to do with my life. But for the most part, after graduation I concentrated on me. I lost a TONNE of weight. I dyed my hair back to its natural dark, dark brown. I made new friends through my job. I learned how to run an olive oil shop (funny what you can do with a law degree). I moved back home with my parents for a while, and I learned to enjoy my family’s company in a way that you just don’t when you’re a troublesome teenager, full of angst and desperate to leave home.

Gradually, little by little, my life fell into place. I moved to London on my own. I got that job in marketing, and new friends, new adventures and even new boyfriends were waiting.

Right now, I feel like I’m on another one of these life precipices. I have to cross my paws and hope for the best when I say this but: I feel like I’m over my ex. It has definitely been the worst year of my life, but I am finally emerging through the darkness. And – it has to be said – I’ve learned more in the past year than I did in my four-year university degree.

I don’t think it’s just me, either. One of my greatest supports for the past year has been my blog and my blogger community. I’ve followed many of you on your own journeys as we navigate through the heartbreak and find ourselves battered, bruised, but ultimately changed for the better at the other end of the tunnel. Some of us are even friends now. And I’ve noticed the changes in you too as the clouds lift and you refocus and – ultimately – move on. So I feel like our little breakup community is graduating too.

There’s other stuff going on. I graduated my yoga course last week. Official graduation involved doing handstands which is some of the most fun I’ve had in months. I’m also graduating therapy (although I’m pretty sure that’s not the professional term for it). It’s another story for another blog, but it turns out my therapist and I had a big misunderstanding at the session before my last one. She thinks I’m doing great. And she’s a pro – she knows her stuff, right?

So, ten years after that sunny day in Edinburgh when we got our degrees, had lunch with our families (as you can imagine, fat April particularly enjoyed that part of the day) and then went out drinking and dancing all night long, I feel like I’m graduating from the biggest learning experience of my life.

I’m going to channel 22-year-old April and try not to worry. I’m going to have faith that life will fall into place.

Who knows what another ten years will bring, but I’m making a promise to myself: I’m going to enjoy the adventure.

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The morning

24 Jun

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Now that the sun comes streaming in my bedroom window at about 4am every day, I’ve been resetting my body clock and getting up super early.

I’m usually up before six. I get dressed and go running just after six. Quick turnaround, wash and dry my hair (which admittedly takes a very long time), and then on to work.

I like the morning. I like early morning. I like feeling like I’m part of some secret club with other morning people when the rest of the world is still tucked away under the covers. Lazy sods. It’s like we’re all in collusion. As if nobody else knows that the buses are so quiet at this time. That my hour-long bus journey takes only ten or fifteen minutes when there’s no traffic on the roads. That the people in my coffee shop are so much friendlier at 7am, and sometimes even let me have a taste of muffins and cakes they’ve been making for the day ahead.

It’s calming and exciting all at once. The day is full of promise, but there’s a serenity to the brightness.

Even better when you know that, despite the stress and the fact you won’t be leaving the office until much, much later that evening, there are nice things waiting, like emails from special people, or songs to listen to. And coffee. Mmmmm. Coffee.

I just wish I could hit pause and make this part of the day last longer. Because, before you know it, other people start arriving in the office, and it gets noisier, and busier, and the stress kicks in, and the phones start ringing, and then it’s 4pm and you haven’t had your lunch yet, or delivered half the projects that you were supposed to. And you find yourself locked in a toilet cubicle trying to catch your breath before a conference call with the client from hell.

If only everything was as lovely as the very start of the day.

Much like the very start of relationships.

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Roar

22 Jun

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Roar.

That’s me making an angry noise. Because I’m working at the weekend again. And I’m a tired, tired cat.

But I’m also releasing my inner lion because something has kicked in very recently. I don’t know what to call this thing. It’s a feeling of being back in control. It’s a feeling of being good enough. It’s hard to put my finger on, but – damn – it feels OK.

I went for a run this morning, which I’ve started doing every morning. (Note to all break upees – run, run and run some more. It has done wonders for my mood and my sausage arms.) Anyway, usually in the mornings I just get my ass in gear so I only run a mile or so. This morning I just kept going. Like Forest fricking Gump.

I got back to my flat looking like a tomato, ever so sweaty, and feeling pretty f***ing great.

“What’s changed?” I hear you ask.

Who knows. My mood has been so up and down for the past ten months, that the slightest work stress or hiccup in my social life sent me spiraling into the doom. But right now I’m about as stressed as I can get about work. I’m not sleeping great because of that. I’m working long hours. But I feel OK about it. Yup, definitely OK.

Running has helped. I’ve also got myself a pedometer and make myself take time out every day to get at least 10,000 steps in. Just so you know, yesterday I did over 18,000 – check me out. I’ve been eating right. Using a lot of essential oils and things to try and lift my mood. Buying myself peonies every single week. Making plans for the rest of the year. I’ve made a great new friend who’s like a little injection of sunshine into every day (thank you). And – what’s more – it’s actually sunny.

I remember last year, post pizza of doom, crying on a friend about how sh** my summer had been between the stress of him going away, him acting like a c***, and then him finally ending things right before I started my new job. Yup. Summer 2013 sucked. My friend said, “Just think how great next summer will be.”

Maybe she was right.

Time will tell. But, as you know, every moment in my life needs a song from Nashville to accompany it. So here’s one that simply says ROAR.

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