Birthday memories.

Earlier this week I turned the grand old age of 31. Waaaaaahhhhh! I’m old, I’m past it, I’m on the shelf, MY LIFE IS OVER! Sod that for a game of soldiers, getting older doesn’t bother me. Admittedly I did have a bit of a “31, seriously? 31??!!!” moment about 2 weeks before my birthday, but that soon passed. Apart from anything else, I’m one of the youngest out of my circle of friends, so any moaning about me feeling old is met with comments along the lines of “Oh shut up, I’m xx years older than you!”

Although I spent my actual birthday in work it was a lovely day. My friends at work bought me a lovely present, we went  out to lunch and there was cake, candles and singing (although it was very hushed and whispered singing as there were conference calls going on around us!). I went for a drink after work (and it really was just one drink, turns out I am capable of it!), and headed home to open all my cards and speak to my family. The joy of Facebook also meant that throughout the day I was pinged with messages of birthday wishes, which is always nice. Makes a person feel warm and fuzzy inside to receive a multitude of good wishes from their friends.

I know some people think that Facebook is the work of the devil and that it impersonalises relationships but I don’t buy this. I live in a different country to a lot of my friends, Facebook is a wonderful way for me to keep in contact with these people, and it’s helped me to re-connect with old school friends and old college friends. People who I lost contact with for various reasons, but am genuinely glad to be back in contact with again. But I digress, this post isn’t about the merits of Facebook.

I love birthdays, always have. I’ll fully monopolise on the fact that it’s a day all about ME! And this year I was a bit nostalgic thinking of the birthdays I remember from years gone by, which then prompted me to write this post.

I only really remember one birthday I had as a child, I think it was my 7^th birthday. And the memory I have is only of about a 20 second window. The party was at my house, which was unusual in itself from what I can remember. We were playing a game that involved dancing. My young competitive & bossy self (nothing’s changed) was desperate to win this so I remember pretty much flinging my partner round like a ragdoll. I don’t remember if I won or not! I remember my sisters supervising the game, and I think I remember Sophie laughing at me, but then there’s nothing new there...

I don’t actually remember my 18^th birthday, am sure I should! Or is it a good sign that I don’t remember it?!!

All the birthdays I had at college were great. My 19^th was rather clandestine in some ways. I was seeing an older guy and a few weeks after my birthday he took me to Brussels for the weekend. I don’t think my family knew I was seeing him at the time of the trip, I vaguely remember Sarah phoning me when we were driving to the airport and asking me if I was in a car. I told her I wasn’t…she must have known I was lying, but didn’t challenge me on it!

Was a fab weekend though, freezing cold but lovely. Lots of Godiva chocolates and wandering around. The Del Amitri song “Always the last to know” reminds me of being in an Irish bar on this trip…which is ironic given that the sentiment of that song is pretty much how that relationship ended up 8 months later.

My 20^th was a bit bittersweet. I’m not going to go into detail but I wasn’t on best terms with my parents and my dad forgot my birthday. I was gutted and very upset. But, my brilliant hall mates put on a brilliant spread for me and we did a treasure hunt. The theme of the night was a kids party, we had hats and jelly and all manner of fabulous things.  

My 20th birthday at college. I don’t look happy but I was, honest

As is traditional, I had a party for my 21^st, and I remember having a great time. My then boyfriends mother made me a lovely cake with elephants on it, which I was made up with! But, my main memory of this party is looking over to see my sisters sat together on a table, gazing at me. I asked them what was up and got the response “Our baby sister is 21!”. I got the same comment on my 30^th…but you’ll hear about that next!

My fab birthday cake

School friends and I on my 21st

My 30^th birthday has to be the best one I’ve had so far though. I was excited about being 30 and had made plans to spend the actual birthday in Dublin with my friends, then a few weeks later to have a family dinner and also a night out with my Yorkshire contingent of mates.

My actual birthday was on a Sunday, so I’d rounded up friends weeks in advance and said that I wanted to go for a meal on the Sat night then out for drinks and frivolities afterwards. This was planned, we were going to a lovely French restaurant (http://www.lgueuleton.com/) and then onwards to wherever we felt like.

We’d arranged to meet up for normal Friday drinks…it was Friday afterall, and the Friday of my birthday weekend, it’d have been rude not to kick things off then!

Sophie texted me on Friday afternoon to ask what the plan was for the weekend so I’d told her what we’d arranged.

I headed off from work on Friday evening and met the girls in the pub.  I was smoking at the time and so I decided to head outside for a cigarette.  My friends tried in vain to get me to stay inside (which I didn’t see as strange at all!) but I’m a stubborn bitch, so I didn’t listen to them and wandered outside

As I got to the door, I spotted my flatmate outside, but then realised  she was stood with two people, one of which looked remarkably like my sister Sophie. As my brain fully engaged and I realised it WAS Sophie I tried to get out the door, but I was trying to push the door when it was pull….I got all flustered and ended up ragging the door to try and open it for about 10 seconds before I finally made my way through it!

I burst outside to find Sophie & Sarah stood with my flatmate. There was a few seconds of bewildered silence before I exclaimed “What the fuck are you doing here?!”, they held the masks they were holding up to their faces, shouted “Surprise!” and I burst into tears…!

My stubbornness to go outside had ruined the surprise! They’d planned to put on these masks, come into the pub, sit down near me and do something to annoy me (sit REALLY close to me, or bang into me etc), to see if I’d realise who they were or just give out about the fact these inconsiderate sods were annoying me!

The masks!

They’d been planning it since the previous September with my flatmate and I’d had absolutely no idea they were coming over! Now, I am rather gullible so it’s no great surprised I didn’t twig but there was nothing to twig either. Why would I think they’d come over? I’d planned to see them in a few weeks in the UK. But, I was absolutely over the moon that they were here and we had the best weekend. They finally got to meet all my mates and see where I lived (Neither of them had been since I’d moved from my previous place). I still smile lots when I think about that weekend.

Me, Sophie and Sarah 

The do I had a few weeks later with my mates in Halifax was also wonderful. Copious amounts of champagne consumed and my jaw hurt from laughing that night. That was the night Whitney Houston died, I remember discovering the news about 3am in the club. Had an absolutely stonking hangover the next day but managed to make it to my mates to see her and her new baby. There was a moment when I didn’t think I’d make the journey across but thankfully I did. My mate would NOT have been happy if I’d have puked in his car!

Sums up my 30th celebration in Halifax!

This years birthday celebrations will also be lots of fun. We’re killing a few birds with one stone. My birthday, my friends birthday and the start of the 6 Nations. Rugby men…gooooood!! Massively looking forward to it, I may report back with stories, it all depends on what happens really!

Till next time, much love!

S

xx

Being the youngest is fair game, apparently.

I’m the youngest of 3 girls. I have an absolutely fabulous relationship with my sisters, we’re incredibly close and they mean the world to me. There’s a bit of an age gap between them and I, Sophie is 7 years older than me and Sarah 9 years older. It probably goes without saying that we all take the mick out of each other, but there seem to be more instances of the two older ones laughing at me. I’m not sure the reason for this, it maybe because I’m the youngest and it’s part of the package, or it maybe because  the oddities I have are more worthy of teasing. Whatever the reason, I love the banter that these stories cause.

In a previous post I wrote about going camping as a child. As much as I loved these trips and have wonderful memories of them, I do believe they are responsible for 2 out of 3 of my odd fears. Fears which will never, ever, fail to amuse the sisters. The fears are trees, rabbits and stags….but only at night. Yes, yes I know. I’ll do my best to explain these without coming across as a total crazy. I don’t like the dark, never have as far as I can remember, but I especially hate the dark when I’m outside.  My imagination runs wild (as it does with most people I’d imagine…no? Balls). I’m thinking of zombies and vampires and many other horrible things that could get me.

I think the rabbits fear stems from Watership Down. You’ve all seen Watership Down, you know that huge scary rabbit with the bloodshot eyes and the big big teeth? Yes, him. He scares the bejeezus out of me. I don’t actually remember the full extent of the story, I’ve not watched it in years, but I have a lasting memory of this horrible rabbit. In fact, I’ve just had to Google it to find out his name, “General Woundwort”.

The trees and stags fear definitely stems from Scotland. Although we frequently camped, on occasion we’d stay in one of the holiday cottages by the road. Lovely quaint cottages, but they backed onto a dense wood. I hated being out in the garden with the dog at night. Although the garden was fenced, the wood was right there and it was pitch black. So my imagination would go off, thinking of big stags that could come out of the woods to get me. God knows why they’d come and get me, I didn’t say my thoughts were rational!

I must have made it known about my stag fear quite early on because for as long as I can remember, whenever there was the road sign for wild animals…yes, the one with a stag on it, someone, normally Soph or Dad from what I remember, would exclaim “Stags!” in the car. This still happens now. To the point that Soph has texted me the single word “Stags” when driving past such a sign, or sending me picture messages of crockery with stags on them from a works dinner. A good few years back, Dad bought me two mugs. One with rabbits on and one with stags on...much to his own amusement.

When we went camping last year, the sisters were remarkably restrained with their teasing of me at night, but I’m sure there were a few comments about going to the loo at night. But, I was quite proud of myself for not totally freaking out. Yey me!

My ability to freak out at just about anything scary is also fair game for them (see the post “Halloween? Erm, no thanks.”

I also have a fear of fresh tomatoes (tinned are fine though!). This is bloody hard to rationalise. I just can’t stand them. I’m shuddering just writing this. They’re horrible things. They smell, they ooze juice and they’re just disgusting. There was a time when I wouldn’t go near one, wouldn’t eat anything that had touched one, but I’m not so bad now. I had to conquer my fear a bit when I got a Saturday job in a coffee shop as I had to deal with them on a daily basis. But I wasn’t happy about it.

Whenever eating anywhere now, I will scour the menu for mentions of tomato in dishes and I generally avoid salad because it’s just not worth the risk. Burgers are another trap, I will always ask for them without any salad garnish. Most normal people order the lot, then just take the tomato off. Not happening with me, there’s a risk there could be a pip or bit of it left on my burger which really would freak me out. If ordering a sandwich in a deli, I’ll be very aware of who serves me and what they’ve handled before. If they’ve put tomato on a sandwich and use the same gloves I’ll be very concerned that I could end up with a bit of tomato on my sandwich.

I know this is very odd, totally irrational and frankly, laughable. But it’s just the way I am! We all have oddities and that’s my main one. What’s even odder is that I have absolutely no problem with tinned tomatoes, tomato sauce etc. I love spag bol, pizzas and use a lot of tomato based sauces in my cooking. It’s fresh salad tomatoes that I have a serious issue with. This too is a constant source of amusement for my sisters, and I do indulge them by telling them occasional close calls I may have! Sophie says I used to physically recoil from them as a child too.

“Don’t Panic, 50p!” is the final one I’m going to mention. This has become a stock response when someone mentions panicking in my family, especially in the context of me. I said it to a friend yesterday and understandably, she didn’t have a clue what I was on about. I explained it was a family joke but was unable to expand further. Which prompted me to email my sisters to ask if either of them could remember what the story was. The response I received was this “We were going to buy some daffs for Nan and they were 50p...for some reason you got a right panic on, maybe you didn't have 50p or you didn't think it was good value; but either way you got in a right flap. Lol”

I had a feeling it was something to do with daffodils, so I was right in my thinking there. Bear in mind this event occurred when I was about 6 so about 25 years ago… I’ve never lived it down. I vaguely remember the panicked feeling I had at the time, but I can’t pinpoint why I was SO panicked!

There are times though when the older two get a ribbing too. Sarah’s admittance that she thought the Katy Perry song lyric was “The taste of her cherry chopstick” is one that springs to mind. I must admit, I’m struggling to come up with something for Sophie, there are some brilliant stories from being kids but I’ll save her blushes and not mention those….

Life wouldn’t be the same without the teasing from my sisters though, and I wouldn’t change it for the world!

Take it easy.

S

xx

Dreams..moved from Wordpress!

Not long after I started this blog, I decided that Wordpress was a much better medium and started another blog on there, with the intention of moving posts from blogspot over. That never happened, and the grass isn't always greener, hence me staying put! But, I thought it was proabably worth moving the 1 post I made on Wordpress over to here, for continuity purposes. 

So, it's below. I wrote it in Aug 2011 and it isn't my best work, but there you go. 

Enjoy, I hope! 

x

Hi there,
I’ve been running a blog on blogspot for a few months now but have decided to move over to WordPress. I’ll move my posts from blogspot over shortly but for the time being, here’s my first random rambling for you!

So, I had a weird dream last night, which in itself isn’t altogether unusual. I seem to go through phases of not remembering my dreams, or having relatively normal ones…to then having what can only be described as downright odd.

Last nights sample was me winning the lottery, but instead of winning €7m, like I thought, I only actually won €280,000. I could only pick it up from Marks and Spencers too, with stickers as confirmation that I’d won the money. Loads of little stickers with either words or pictures on them. But the woman who gave me the stickers told me that if the people in M&S didn’t want them she’d have them back as they were highly collectible.
The next thing I remember from the dream was me being in my university town, shopping with my husband (who I didn’t recognise as anyone I knew), but in the supermarket I saw the man I was having an affair with (again, I don’t recognise him as someone I know). My university town is tiny. It’s in the middle of Wales, with a population of just under 2000 people. When the university is in session, the population almost doubles. It’s hard to carry on doing something unsavoury in the town without someone (or everyone) knowing about it, which is what made me laugh about the dream. Having said that though, if you’re careful enough it is possible to keep stuff to yourself…but that’s another story.

If you go by the main themes in that dream then you’d be forgiven for thinking I’m motivated by money & sex!

I know there’ve been numerous studies done on dreams and I’m sure if I googled the dream I’d get analysis as to what certain parts of it mean. I can’t say I’m bothered about that though, but my dreams do amuse me.

My most memorable one, and I still think my weirdest was from a good ten years ago.
I can’t remember how I came to be in the situation I was in in the dream but I remember there was a rescue effort going on, and me and my friends were at the bottom of a hill waiting to be rescued by a helicopter. But the hill wasn’t a normal hill, it was a gigantic margarine tub….. When the helicopter landed it had to land on top of the butter and we had to make our way up the hill to get in the chopper before it sunk into the butter. Lord knows the meaning of that one!

I’ve had recurring dreams too, although not since I was a child, and they were during the time when my parents had split up so I’m not entirely surprised these manifested themselves in my subconscious given the upheaval in my life at the time.
The main recurring one involved me running down a lane with a big ball chasing me. There was a fence on either side of the lane, and I couldn’t move to the side to escape the ball as it was so big it spanned the whole lane.
Another one was me being told to go and chop down trees, but the man who was my boss constantly shouted at me as I was on the wrong patch of trees. But whenever I moved to the patch he’d told me to go to, he’d come and shout at me again. This was a horrible dream and I hated having it, more so than the ball chasing me down the lane.

I also used to have a waking dream during this time, which was decidedly odd. I occasionally still have this if I zone out of a situation sufficiently enough. It’s hard to describe but it’s like the whole world has sped up around me and I’m moving a hundred times slower than everyone else. Every movement I make feels very very jagged and it’s very disconcerting. It passes after a minute or so and the only thing I can do is wait for it to end. As a child it used to freak me out though as I used to try and quicken my movements to match the world around me, which I’m sure made me look very odd to anyone watching me at the time. I’ve not had this in a while, and it tends to be when I’m in bed and am very relaxed, but it can occasionally happen in a work situation, which is still disconcerting.

I suppose it goes to show how odd our subconscious is, and demonstrates that we only use a small proportion of our brains. I’m sure I once heard something somewhere that it’s better for your subconscious to manifest this stuff while you’re asleep than to have it festering away in the back of your brain…. As for that being valid, I have no idea. I’m not Freud and I’m certainly no psychologist! But I do know this, my odd dreams will always amuse me and I’ll always be intrigued by them.

Take it easy! x

Room 101...or maybe a warehouse,

I have a lot of pet hates. I'd say I probably have more than most people. And I'm not afraid to tell people to stop doing something if it annoys me. Was watching Room 101 last night and it made me think what I'd put in my Room 101..so here's my (rather long) list. 

1: People who stop randomly when walking. 

This never fails to annoy me, and it happens a lot. I'm a fast walker so the public in general annoy me (as you'll come to realise by the end of this post!), but if I'm walking along and the person in front just stops short, I'm likely to plough into the back of them, and have been known to do so. Why stop in the middle of the street?! Ok, if you're walking by a shop and stop to look in the window fair enough, we all do it, but that's generally easy to spot. I'm talking about stopping for no apparent reason. It might be to check a phone, or just because you're an eejit. Either way, be aware of the people behind you and either pull over or slow down gradually. (Imagine you're driving!)

2: People who walk in one direction but look in another. 

This may sound like a really odd thing but it's incredibly common. We can all have something catch our eye as we're walking along and stop to look at it for a second or two. But most of of us wouldn't continue to look in the other direction and continue to walk forward. 

This happens a lot of Grafton street. Someone's walking down the middle, sees something on the edge, turns to look at it and continues to walk down the street, totally oblivious to anyone in their path, or the fact that their own path is now veering off. I was once coming up Grafton Street and a girl had come out of Butlers Coffee shop carrying a tray of coffee. She wasn't looking where she was going and would have walked straight into me had I not been paying attention. I actually had a go at her and told her to look where she was going. She was a bit taken aback, but did apologise. 

3. Cyclists who ride on pavements and run red lights. 

I'm not a driver, but I am a pedestrian. If I'm waiting at a crossing and the green man is there, I shouldn't have to look twice to check there are no cyclists bearing down on me as they run a red light. Have some consideration you arrogant twats. 

The same goes for those cyclists who ride on pavements and expect pedestrians to get out of the way. Erm, no, I won't. This is my domain, get back on the road. 

Last year I was waiting at a crossing for the green man, stood still in a group of people, looking at something on my phone whilst waiting, when I heard a voice say "..and as for you stood there looking at your phone, pay attention". I looked up to see an auld fella on a bike, pretty much ploughing his way through the group of us on the pavement. I snapped and said "Excuse me, but you're cycling on the FUCKING PAVEMENT!". He too looked a bit taken a back and cycled off, whilst a few of the people around me smiled at me and muttered their appreciation of my outburst. 

4. Incessant, repetitive noise.

This is huge for me and is a constant source of amusement for my work colleagues! It can include foot tapping, pen clicking and nail drumming but isn't exclusive to that list. 

And I will tell you if you're doing it for more than 5 seconds and it's pissing me off. This can often result in my colleagues conspiring against me and doing it just to piss me off, which does make me laugh. Funnily enough the sound of someone typing on a computer keyboard doesn't bother me as there are variations in the noise. Although people who hit the keys unnecessarily hard do my head in. Foot tapping also causes vibrations which annoy me too. A guy at work does it occasionally, but it always promptly told to stop. (surprisingly, I get on well with my colleagues!)

5. Whistling. 

I was going to put this in the item above but it deserves a place of its own. I. Cannot. Abide. Whistling. Think Sheldon Cooper in The Big Bang Theory and you're on the right lines. All my friends know this and don't really do it in my presence, but are told if they do. Having said that, none of them are whistlers really anyway, so they're cool. Strangers whistling winds me up something chronic. I will turn and glare at people on buses who whistle. Old men whistling is the worst as more often than not they're not whistling a particular tune, it's just a random jumble of notes. For the love of god, SHUT UP!!

6. People eating with their mouth open. 

We're all taught as children to close our mouths when eating, so why do some people forget this skill in adult hood? The worst things are gum and crisps/popcorn. People who take the first bite of popcorn or crisps with their mouth open really boil my blood, They're two of the noisiest food substances you can eat. How can you not hear yourselves??! Fruit is similar too, especially crunchy fruit like apples. Take the bite and close your mouth. It's not difficult. Plus, it looks really fucking gross. 

7. People who talk in the cinema.

I have been known to tell people to shut the fuck up in the cinema if they're ruining a film for me (including children, see next item). We're all there to watch it and hopefully enjoy it. If you don't like the film, leave. Don't ruin it for everyone else around you. 

8. People who can't control their children. 

I have 4 nephews and a niece. I'm quite amenable to kids, but I can't abide parents who don't control theirs in public places. I've seen all my sisters kids grow up, and am still watching some. I know that kids have tantrums, and can be a bit wild. But I can also spot a spoilt child who runs rings round their parents and a well behaved child who's having a bad day a MILE off. This also ties in with the cinema post. I've been in a film with children sat on the row in front of me, with their parents, who've been disruptive and I've leant over and asked them to be quiet. So what if the parents are there? They obviously don't give a shit, but I do. I don't care if they think I'm a cheeky bitch, if you don't want your kids to be told off by a stranger, control them. 

9. People who don't accommodate other people on public transport.

This can cover people who don't move to free up a seat, guys who move to let you sit down but insist on keeping their legs open so you have a tiny bit of room, and people who don't move for older people/pregnant women/disabled people. Unless you've got a 15inch knob, what need is there to sit with your legs THAT far apart dude? Suck it up and make some room. None of us are happy about being on this bus/train/whatever it is, but we're all here. Cooperate. As for those people who don't move to free up space, I'll just ask you to move. And people who don't move for people less advantaged than themselves need a slap. 

10. CDs and DVDs in the wrong cases. 

My ex used to drive me mad doing this. Put them in the right case!!! It's really not that difficult. And if there are 2 discs in the case, put disc one in the disc one slot, and disc two in the disc two slot. Again, not difficult. 

11. People who walk 2/3 wide along and don't move for others. 

This will get me into trouble one day, I know it will. If I'm walking along on my own and there are people walking towards me who are 2/3 abreast but not appearing to move, I ain't moving. I will keep walking and either a)plough through the middle of you or b)stop when I reach you until one of you moves to accommodate me. 

You don't own the path just because there are more of you. Knobs. 

12. People who stand in doorways or at the top/bottom of escalators or stairs. 

Why do people do this??!! There should be a 'No Stopping' sign in these places. You're only going to block other people, you know this, so why do it?! This is another situation in which I will say something to someone. Generally along the lines of "Excuse me, would you mind making room for people to come through?!"

There's a shopping centre at the top of Grafton St and when it rains lots of people use the entrance of this as a shelter. For the love of god, bring a fucking umbrella and brave the rain! You live in Ireland, it rains a LOT, you know this. Deal with it and stop clogging up the sodding entrance. (n.b. Since writing this a friend made a wonderful comment on Facebook about people clogging up entrances to tube stations fumbling for hats/scarves etc before going out in the snow "You're not the not the Wicked Witch from Oz and you won't melt...fuck off out of the way". It was such a brilliant comment I had to share, thanks Andy!)

13. People who interrupt. 

Now, I'm no angel here, I can interrupt. I know I can, but I try not to where possible and am aware I'm being a knob when I do. 

Wait until I've finished speaking. Chances are what you want to ask will be covered in my statement. I know what I'm saying is utterly fascinating and you want to know more, but hold your horses for just 10 more seconds. As a fabulous post on Pinterest recently said "Oh I'm sorry. Did the end of my sentence get in the way of the beginning of yours?!"

14. Ugg boots and people who don't pick their feet up (often combined).

This really really really gets me. And it's another thing I will tell my friends not to do..two friends in work can attest to this!! 

It seems that Ugg boot wearers are generally incapable of picking up their feet. I don't know why. I think this hatred stems from school girls in Dublin. Many of them wearing cheap Ugg imitations that have collapsed and the sole of the shoe is actually nowhere near the actual sole of the wearers foot. This has caused me to hate anything Ugg like. There are of course non Ugg wearers who drag their feet and I have been known to mutter (loudly), "Pick your feet up!" near them. You're a well evolved human, not a cave man. 

That's it, I think! That's more than enough, but it was very therapeutic writing this. I recently pointed a very good friend of mind towards my blog page and he commented that he was surprised I hadn't just used it as a ranting outlet. I thought of him whilst writing this post because it is very ranty. But I am prone to ranting quite a lot, it's in my nature...and it's good for the soul. Get it out there, dealt with it, don't bottle it up!

Till next time...don't annoy anyone!

S

x

Zombie Apocalypse...

What would you do in a zombie apocalypse? Genuinely? What would you do?!

A colleague said that it was something she was thinking about when she couldn’t sleep the other night, and it sparked a whole conversation between some of us.

Now, it’s not something I’ve ever thought of before to be honest with you, but when the question was asked, I started thinking about it.

I live in an apartment block, on the 3^rd floor. I reckon I’d be ok for a bit. Also, I live above a supermarket, in the suburbs. Hoping that the apocalypse starts in the city centre I reckon I could stock up shit loads of food from the Dunnes downstairs and the Aldi down the road and hole myself up in the apartment for a good while. But, I live close to a main commuter route, which is only 20 mins from the centre of town, so all it would take is for LUAS to be overrun by the undead and we’d be invaded.

But, I reckon that will still take a while. There are loads of stops before my gaff, they’d invade those places first surely?

Only main issue with staying in the apartment is this….you’ve got no access to weapons etc.  Well, I have a broom in the cupboard that I reckon I do some zombie damage with. But, as the colleague rightly pointed out, maybe it’d be best to get transport, get weapons and get the hell out of there...which I have to agree would be the best plan. I live across the road from a load of car garages, I could be nicking a car, stocking up from the supermarket and driving off to the local hardware store in no time! (The fact that I don’t drive isn’t something I’m factoring in here. Let’s be honest, the fact I’m talking about an event that’s never going to happen allows me to imagine I can drive!)

So, I’d be off in my jeep type thing up to Woodies to stock up on shovels and anything else weaponesque I can find. Would I pick up my mates before I fucked off into the wilderness? Course I would. Safety in numbers and all that! But, I wouldn’t be going too far, so my flatmate would be fine. As would the people who live near me…but, that means Faye and Suz, you’re probably left to look after yourself ladies. Sorry!

I’d then head south into the mountains. I’m only a 30 (ish) min drive from Sugarloaf and Glenalough. Both pretty remote places. But, they’re also a bit wildnernessy….I’d need camping gear and stuff to survive the harsh Irish winters. Ah it’s grand, I can pick those up in Woodies along with my shovels and stuff.

I reckon this plan is pretty good, the only main issue is that of procreation, should we be left out there for long enough. There might not be many other people heading to the same place as me, how do my friends and I re-start the human race? At the moment there’s only one bloke in my group and that’s my mates fiancé….I think we need more male members. Sure, we’ll probably find a few strays along the road that we can pick up.

Bring on the zombies!!!  Raaarrrr.

S

xx

Motivation..or lack of it!

So, it’s late on a Thursday morning, it’s the first full week back at work after the festive break and I’m struggling to motivate myself. Felt the urge to write a blog post but couldn’t think what to write about, until a good friend suggested writing about what does actually motivate me. Genius idea. Although, be warned, this post could be waffly. What’s that I hear you cry? “More waffly than normal, god help us!” Yes yes, I know. But, you’ll cope.

I love my job, I must say that first and foremost. I genuinely do, and anyone that I work with is probably aware of this. I work for a great company (yes, it frustrates me occasionally, but I still like it!), I work with a great set of people and I’m genuinely interested in the stuff that I do. But, regardless of how much one person may adore their job, we all have moments of “I can’t be bothered” and anyone who says they don’t is a fibber.

I’m naturally a very reactive person. I work best in a situation where I need to react to something. I don’t get stressed by unknown items, I tend to take them in my stride and deal with things as they come along. This applies to both work and my private life. I can over think things, but it’s rare if I’m honest. If something is bothering me and I have the power to change it, I will. If I don’t have that power I’ll deal with it, make my peace and move on. This comes in very handy for a big factor in my life, and were it not for this attitude, I think I’d have driven myself into the ground worrying about something I have absolutely no control over.

I can be pro active, when I put my mind to it. But I have to be in the right frame of mind. I am a bit of a control freak in some ways, and I like to know where I’m going to be and what I’m going to do in advance, sometimes. But there are other times I’ll just fly by the seat of my pants and love the ride. If there’s a group of people trying to organise something, I’ll generally take the lead and try and drive the group forward to where they need to be. This could apply to a group of friends booking a holiday, or a bunch of colleagues in a meeting.

Actual planning in work is a bit of a struggle for me though, which could prove difficult in the near future given that I work in Project Management and am looking to head into a Project Manager role at some point! But, I am fully aware of this ‘flaw’ and know it’s something I need to work on as part of my career path.

But what does actually motivate me? That’s a rather expansive question, and if I’m honest, I’m not entirely sure of the answer. Some people might see me as lazy. If I don’t HAVE to do something, I generally won’t do it. It’ll get done, at some point, but it’ll be lower on my list of priorities than the stuff that I have to do right now.

We could go to town now and analyse exactly WHY I’m like this. Something in my childhood perhaps, or just my inherent personality? But, I’m not going to, we’d be here all day.

Money motivates me a little bit, but it’s not a huge factor. I realise I need it to live, and yes, like everyone out there I’d love to not have to worry about money, but I don’t crave it. I don’t particularly crave power either. I sometimes look at the top dogs at work and think “Nah, I couldn’t cope with that”

I like recognition, I like praise, and in some ways criticism because it means that someone has noticed something. I’m a sporadic Tweeter. I blog because I like outpouring my thoughts and sharing stuff, and I’d love for more readers/followers. But, I fully realise that to achieve this I need to put more effort into my ramblings. But, I don’t, because I’m not THAT bothered. (which I now realise probably wasn't the wisest thing to admit to you, my lovely reader!)

One thing I do crave is knowledge. I love knowing stuff, finding out new stuff and imparting my knowledge on others (sometimes to their chagrin I’m sure! I blame my father for this). I like knowing how stuff works and learning new stuff every day. Which I think is one of the reasons I like my job so much. Although fundamentally my job is the same daily, something is always different. Projects change every day, it’s a very dynamic environment and I love it. My first proper job was in a call centre changing mortgage interest rates for customers. I loved it for the first 12 weeks or so because I had 6 weeks of training then was able to put that into practice. But then I had nothing new to learn. I was bored senseless and I got out of there as soon as was humanly possible; straight into projects and I’ve never looked back. I’d go so far as to say that knowledge is probably my main motivator in work, which is quite handy really! I work in an environment where there’s always scope to learn new things and that excites me. It doesn’t necessarily have to be knowledge that I’d use but the fact I have it makes me happy.

It goes without saying that happiness is a motivator for me too. I want to be happy in my work life and my private life, and in the main I am, but there’s still work to be done, which I’m working on it bit by bit.

I find writing blog posts very therapeutic, and this one is just the same. But, it’s made me think about something that I’ve never though about before. What actually drives me. I think I’ve answered it and it would fit with the way I am.

So, to the friend who suggested the topic, I thank you. To the rest of you, as always, I thank you for reading my ramblings.

Happy 2013 to you all, stay happy!

Sandra.

xxx