sashinka | observation orientated, with a twist of lime | a blog

Let's just say the bad karma fairy has my number.

In a big way.

It's obviously Tuesdays, this kinda time - remember last week when I was all over-dramatic (although some say revealing)?

And, in the scheme of things, life isn't so bad. I have a couple of good friends right now who are coping with family illness, or "battling" disease (how I hate that word, battling, I mean, in that context) and my tsores, taken in contextual perspective is nothing. Really. If you don't laugh you'll cry.

I have a (non Jewish) friend who teases me about my desire to overstock my cupboards with "supplies" "because of the war." And it's true: both that I buy canned food and Body Shop tea tree body wash in bulk, and that my collective history colours my actions. I'm a glass smashed rather than a glass half-empty person.

I don't want to be. But I am how I am, and I have to accept myself. So the upside/downside of genetic type A personality (disorder) is that I'm immediate. Faster. Some people read it as agressive, some see it as can-do-ness in the extreme and love it. Clients adore it because they get everything done yesterday. Sometimes, sooner.

Speaking of clients, part of my current hassles are a client who has pissed me around for coming up to six weeks about a particularly large, complex piece of work. And my immediateness means I want it all contracts-exchanged yesterday, and he's vague in the way most people are. But it riled me. A lot. Anyway, longstoryshort, I took other work and it's fine. But it's left a bitter taste. I don't like being taken for granted (they were always "owing me one" for my extensive goodwill, but that's turned a little sour now.) And they owe me 2,500 of your earth bananas, but that's a whole separate fruit salad.

And there was the thing I shouldn't mention that I mentioned last week, Tuesday. I still feel residually riled about that.

And there was another thing. In the summer.

Let's just say all this angst is both my inevitable heritage and bad for my skin.

I remember once, about 107 jobs ago sitting next to a lovely English woman - Belinda - who never got annoyed when the MD kept changing the business strategy while we were at lunch, thus negating all our work. She was just, OK, fine, I'll do it again. I was all, you're so crap, wouldn't the company be much better if I was running it.

This is all an extremely long winded way of saying.... what, exactly?

That I'm having teenage angst, as opposed to teenage kicks, about who I am and why I do what I do and if anyone cares. Or anything. And this time, I didn't even have any Baileys.

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Also. Let's just say there's a lot going on on the home front. I am not thinking of being a TV show, but there's all kinda UPVC window shit happening, and friendlyish debates about parking five cars when only four fit, and buying our freehold and stuff. Stuff. Stuff. There's a lot of it out there.

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In other news, I bought my parents the You Don't Have to Be Jewish record on CD, and I have discovered that their entire repertoire of jokes and passing comments (who's dying? in the front closet? does that mean you're not coming? hello, Louis) are culled from this - some say - seminal spoken word/shtick (there's a genre that's not yet on your iPod) coupla records from the 1960s. Go figure.

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So - in long - let's just say things have not really improved since last Tuesday.

My work could be better - but then it could always be worse - my house is not exactly my castle right now (I get upset every time I come home and see the windows), some of my personal relationships have caused me a good deal of upset (see last Tuesday for details), all the stress has forced me to eat white Kit Kats on an almost moment by moment basis, resulting in bad skin and a rather sluggish feel to my whole body. I think my last cleaner stole my brown and black M&S lace camisole, and they don't sell it anymore, my freezer is very probably on her last legs (they're always female, dontya know), as is my kettle, I suspect, cashflow could be better, and I haven't written a word in my novel for two months because of all the above. And. And. And.

Am I boring you?

Don't read it, then.

The main thing to remember is, I'm a writer.

That is all.