So this is the part where I become a whirlwind of activity and we see screen shots of me running through the park, typing furiously on the laptop, lifting weights and sifting through job applications. Cut to six months later, and the fitter, beautifully dressed moi is accepting the Orange Prize for Fiction and saying “I’d like to thank…”.
After last weeks news, we actually had quite a pleasant weekend. Some friends came round for a barbecue on Saturday which culminated in a walk up Kinnoull Hill at three o’clock in the morning to watch the sun come up. A bottle of fizz and some life-affirming conversation had me cresting on a wave of hope and optimism. Le homme and I had some in vino veritas discussion of the situation and I resolved my fears that he thinks I’ve ruined our lives.
Sunday’s hangover made things much more difficult to deal with, which helpfully brought home how my mental state can be so significantly influenced by my physical state. I joke about montage scenes of me running in the park, but staying physically healthy is one thing that can really keep my head straight. Which means sleeping well and eating right, along with getting some exercise. The week kicked off pretty well and I spent Monday at the library enthusiastically job searching and imagining all the possibilities of my new life. The rest of the week has seen a significant drop in enthusiasm for what seemed to be no discernible reason. Thinking about it, I realise I haven’t given myself much time to really consider what’s happened. I spent nearly twelve weeks waiting for a resolution. When it came, I instantly threw myself into the “montage” and started my “new life”. I felt like I’ve spent a lot of time slacking off and not being “productive” and with the situation resolved I had to get to work to fix it. Maybe I need to process the situation and resolve it within my own head before I can move on.
Or maybe I’m just lazy, and want to cut ahead six months instead of working through the montage.
Have been “summarily dismissed for misconduct”. Bugger. For all my chat about how I expected it etc, etc, I’m gutted. Was trying to be optimistic, but it’s going to be a total nightmare finding something else.
Feel like such a fool.
I have been Summoned. I am to attend a meeting this afternoon with two of the people who were on the Disciplinary panel. I guess I’m going to discover my fate.
I keep telling myself that if I lose my job it could be a blessing in disguise. A chance to go off and do something else. “Crisis” being the same word as “opportunity” and all that. Maybe the job wasn’t right for me.
I’m just not sure I believe that. I’m change-resistant. I’ve got me a little rut and I’m going to roll around in it quite happily, thank you. Regardless of whether or not I’ve grown out of it. Sometimes change is good.
Remind me of that later?
Today I mostly stayed in bed and watched some more One Tree Hill. I have decided that this is probably not too healthy. Fun. But not healthy. If I do lose my job (no news yet), I’m at a significant risk of becoming obese and smelly. If I keep my job, the shock of returning to a 9 to 5 where I’m expected to be dressed and active all day, may kill me.
Therefore I have come up with the following Minimum Standards Agreement –
1. Get up in the morning, go to bed in the evening.
2. Wash and get dressed every day.
3. Eat three meals a day. Actual meals, not snacks and junk.
4. Get outside and get some exercise every day.
5. Write. Try to hit 2000 words a day.
6. Participate. Find a book group. Go to running club. Investigate volunteering.
Obviously 1. and 2. are a bit of a given if I do go back to work. The rest I want to do anyway. I’ve learned that I need to take care of myself. Now it’s time to start putting my money where my mouth is.
It’s been a bit quiet on the blogging front for the last wee while. Last week gave us glorious sunshine and I spent most of my time in the garden, reading and chilling out.
Friday saw the Day of Doom – I had my disciplinary hearing. Not fun. It wasn’t terrible, they were actually quite fair. I’m not optimistic about the outcome, mainly because I don’t think they appreciate a “reason” that consists of “I had a stupid moment”. There’s concern about whether I’d do it again, and I don’t think they’ll take a risk. I am awaiting the outcome in the post.
This week, I have taken to bed in the manner of a Victorian heroine suffering from “nerves”. I have become inexplicably addicted to the classy teen drama One Tree Hill, thanks to the library’s DVD collection. Once again, I become racked with guilt at my lack of productivity. And at all the crisps. I have eaten so many crisps.