My Mumbling Thoughts

I didn't run for newspaper editor of my uni, nor did I go to my second counseling session with Lena. Why? Because I got a job and that is priority numero uno for me at the moment. Spending money now is a lot less stressful knowing full and well that I am also accruing funds that will replenish my bank account this coming Friday. It's going to be oh so sweet.

Simon managed to hook me up with that job that I mentioned last week. It turns out that two of the other people they had hired before me, turned out to be flakes, so they decided to replace them with me! And two other ladies that started this past Monday as well.

The job itself is a pile of wank, but the pay is right up my alley. I've done the calculations, and after about a month and a half worth's pay, I should be out of my debt hole and can start saving money for when Mel gets here in August. I'm excited about these new developments, and was so happy to have a job, that I could have reached through my phone and gave Simon a big, sloppy kiss.

Sunday night, I had already mentally decided what I was going to wear for my first day of work, and was so excited to get ready, I woke up AN HOUR BEFORE my alarm went off. That's FIVE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING PEOPLE. Do you know how long it has been since I've woken up at that time? And haven't been out in some random corner of London? A long time. It has been a very long time.

I rolled over and caught the last hour of sleep, but as soon as my phone began playing my morning wake-up call, I quickly jumped in the shower and arrived at my new workplace thirty minutes early. I was quite eager and ready to see what I would be doing, who would I be working with, what was everything going to be like? I was particularly happy to be back in an office setting. How sad is that? But it's true. I'm comfortable amongst all of the computer wires, telephones and mini-kitchen break rooms. It's what I know. It's what I do.

It turned out to be a very standard office, with bare minimum... everything. My enthusiasm was slightly deflated, but I wasn't going to let this get me down. I was at work. AT WORK. And I was damn happy.

The work that I do is so mind-numbing I have to listen to my iPod, Sugar, to keep me awake and my brain functioning at some kind of normal level. It takes me back when I used to work back in VA, and reminded me why I love to hate places like these offices. It was strangely comforting to be working in Excel and Citrix, doing "data cleansing" for people that look at me like I'm too young to be there, and seem out of place with my lip piercing and tattoos (which I hide underneath appropriate work attire).

The other four ladies that I work with are between the ages of thirty-five and forty-something, and they're married. We don't really have anything in common, nor do we have anything to talk about, but they're nice and with each passing day, I'm growing to like them even more. There's Mary, who's a bit... out there and never really knows when to stop talking. Then we have Susan who's the quiet one, and kind of keeps to herself, but she has been slowly breaking out of her shell a bit more and laughing with us. Anna is next in line, who was a little intense when I first met her, but now that I've gotten to know her, I think she's hilarious. Last but not least, there's little Helima, who claimed me as her "smoking buddy" the very first day. I get the feeling that she wants to talk to me about personal things (i.e. problems with her husband), but I find it way too weird and uncomfortable, and try to dodge those conversations as quickly as possible.

That would be our not-so-crazy group of ladies that sit all day, cleanse data all day, try to make it all go by a little bit faster all day...

The good thing is that this is only supposed to be for six weeks, so I won't be stuck doing this shit until I die. We each have 5000 records to clean, and I'm breezing through mine (I'm already at 1300-something). I want to try and get them finished as soon as possible so I don't have to look at them anymore, and will hopefully get something that's a bit more stimulating.

And that's my job. After work is finished for the day, I fast-walk all the way down to the bus stop and hope that I'll be lucky enough to get a seat for the long journey back. I always get stuck in the after work traffic, so instead of the trip being twenty minutes (how long it usually takes), I'm stuck there for about an hour.

Instead of going to the meeting for the top up elections last night, I decided to take a night off and go see my friend, Ryan O'Reilly play at a pub in Hammersmith. I can honestly say that he is one of my favorite people on earth that I have the pleasure of knowing. He's ridiculously smart, funny, a fantastic musician and yes, very much unavailable. He has a beautiful girlfriend, that Trish and I consider to be the luckiest woman on earth.

I love going to Ryan's gigs when I can. The only reason I tend to not go to them is because I'm too poor, but since I have a job now (that will never get old for me to say), I thought I would go and have a nice night out. I never have a bad time at Ryan's gigs. I love it because you get to meet new people, discover other great acts, and travel to different parts of London that I may not otherwise know about.

Last night was one of my favorite performances I've seen Ryan do. He was just so on. He told stories, the audience laughed, he sang with so much feeling and captured the entire night. I know I'm bias, but he was my favorite act of the evening.

And it was so nice not being at uni. Not being around uni people. Not having anything to do with university at all.

Since my last exam, which was the last uni-related thing I had to do, I haven't been back in any kind of full capacity. I pretty much fell off the uni map, and haven't missed it in the slightest. I don't want to deal with any of it for the time being. I just want to push it aside for right now and for once, not care about any of the worries from the past year.

Posted by Sam at 12:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I can't update my blog at the moment, because I'm working.

Oh yeah, baby, you read that correctly.

WORKING.

I shall have a proper update when I get a little break and I'm not so tired from all of this work that I've been doing. Hells yeah I'm going to wear that word out: work, work, work, work, WORK. I'm a working gal.

And this working gal needs sleep so she can get up early for work in the morning.

AWESOME.

P.S... I already miss you Internet. I hope you miss me too.

Posted by Sam at 10:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

A couple of days ago, I watched this video on Current about this "ghost granny" thing that was scaring locals in Sri Lanka. I have no idea why I watched it; I hate scary shit. I'm not one of those people that particularly enjoys being scared for fun. My heart can't take it. I'm a smoker.

I decided to watch it anyway, because while I may not like scary things, sometimes I do get intrigued by the whole "unknown paranormal" stuff. It's interesting and can make your brain wander about things that maybe we don't always see with the naked eye. I pressed play and watched it with Carlene and Trish next to me, all of us waiting for something weird to happen. The video was only two minutes and a few seconds long, and towards the end, we were surprised to see this scary old lady on the elevator camera after these two men stepped out. It scared me and Trish so much that we actually screamed out loud, and then scared Carlene because we screamed out loud.

Ever since then, I've been a stupid, little baby, and have been having trouble sleeping at night, and I never have trouble getting to sleep; it's one of my favorite things to do. I've turned into this weird nocturnal creature that occupies myself with anything until I'm so ridiculously tired, I don't have time to open and close my eyes twelve times to make sure nothing is hovering over me. And quite frankly, it's starting to piss me off.

Then, while I was laying in bed at five o'clock in the morning, catching up on blogs and occupying my mind once again, I read Chelsea's latest blog about clowns and fear. It wasn't exactly what I'm going through, but it was similar, and made me realize a few things, like how silly this whole ghost granny thing is. I'm probably just making it out to be a much bigger and scarier thing in my head. No, I am making it a much bigger and scarier thing, when it doesn't need to be. I've been living here how long, and I haven't had too many problems... that I know of. I'll be fine. My sleep schedule should get on as normal, I hope.

But it also got me thinking about a few other real fears that I have. Fears that can't simply magically disappear. Fears that I'll have to deal with one way or another, whether that's telling someone who can help me out, or finding something that will quickly make it all go away - like winning the lottery.

With all of this heavy and intense life shit going on around me, I've been trying so hard not to close up and head back to Denial Island. While it is a lovely place to stay at from time to time, I fear that I tend to get lost in all of denial haze, I lose track of what's important and what needs to get done. I'm scared that I won't get a job, that I'll have to tell Momma that I've royally fucked up again, and that it's going to take me an age to get all of my finances sorted out. I fear that I won't have my share to pay some of the bills, that people will hate me for owing them so much money for so long and hold it over my head. I'm scared that I'll start lashing out at people, which I tend to do whenever I get into these kind of situations. And I'm scared that I'll never sort myself out properly. What if I'm always that girl that has money problems? I don't want to be her. Nobody likes hanging out with her, because whenever she asks for a favor, people's first thought is that she needs money, when really she was just wondering if she could borrow your curling iron. It's not a good thing.

Aside from all of those fears, I've also got those horrible little niggles that many girls my age, who are single think about every so often (read: every second of every day). I'm scared of being alone.

There. I said it.

That horrible thing that I hate to think about, let alone actually say. What am I, sixty-seven?

No, I'm definitely not old. Not yet anyway. But I'm also not the most patient person on the planet. Anybody who has ever met me, even for one second, knows that. But it would be nice. To have someone. Who is a man. To be here. With me.

Of course then I always go back to the whole, "if you weren't having any of these problems right now, you wouldn't even be thinking about this." Which is true. I have always prided myself on being the girl that doesn't need a man. I only need a man for one thing, and I can get that whenever I want. It's easy. I'm easy. London is a big city, and there are a lot of potentials. And after the big Ash/Sam train wrecks, I've been keeping my distance (emotionally, that is) from other potentials. Yes, there was Swindon for a brief couple of weeks, but that quickly faded along with my hope (we never did go on that date either, the schmuck).

Perhaps I'm in a rut, who knows? Maybe I'll find out when I speak to Lena this coming Tuesday; we are talking about relationships (or so Fran said we might be when I saw her the last time). Maybe I'm just going through a dry spell, a phase, a bump in the road. Or maybe I'm just letting my fear completely consume me. The ghost granny has claimed my sleep, and all of my other bigger fears appear to be claiming my sanity. And I fear if I don't conquer these fears soon, I'll be watching a lot of sunrises from my bedroom window at half five in the morning.

Posted by Sam at 05:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Summer has definitely touched London, and for the past week and a half or so, I've been laying outside with just enough clothes on to not get thrown in jail for indecent exposure. We walk around in flip flops, tank tops, short shorts and our hair pulled up and off of our necks to try and keep cool. It has been nothing but bright, blue skies, hot sun and ice lollies. And slightly pink skin from absorbing too much of the hot weather. I forget that my skin isn't used to all of this sunshine, and got a bit too excited about staying outside for hours on end. I've since spent the past two days mostly inside, shielding my gentle skin and letting it recover from the harsh rays. I do believe that tomorrow I should be fine though, and will be going out to the parks for more naps out on the grass.

It has been a lovely break from the past few weeks where I've locked myself indoors, only to stare out the window and wishing I was outside, but rather had to force myself to do coursework that I hated and wanted to throw over the balcony to the random animals so they could tear it into little shreds of nothing. I have been making up for lost time, to say the least, and am enjoying my little rest from the hell that was the end of my second year at uni.

This next week, however, will not only just be spent dozing off in the grass, but waiting for Simon to call with any potential jobs. He called me last week for a job that paid so well, but that quickly dissipated when all of the positions were filled before they even reached my name. It was sad, but I'm hopeful this week will bring something else. I also submitted my CV to another temp agency called Office Angels. Apparently they're supposed to be really good as well, so I hope to hear from them too. I suppose it'll just be a race to see who can get me a job first. The sooner I start work, the better I'll feel about a lot of things.

Until then, I've just been doing chores around the flat, making sure that things are ready for when I actually do get work. I bought a couple of shirts to go with some of my nice trousers, ironed all of my clothes that require ironing, bought groceries, and so on. Everything will be ready and stocked for me, that way when it is time for me to work, I don't have to worry about running late because I didn't iron that one shirt that goes so nicely with my light pink trousers. It also keeps my mind occupied from going absolutely insane.

Today is Mother's Day back home too. I called Momma and Mel via Skype and chatted with them for a little over two hours. It was good to catch up with them, have chats and imagine that I was back in the townhouse for a little while. Everything they said, I could picture in my head: I saw Mel making pork chops for Momma's Mother's Day dinner, saw us watching P.S. I love you downstairs on the couch, while Momma rode her exercise bicycle, and saw Momma in her room doing her Sunday ironing and watching all of her shows that she recorded on TiVo. I saw it all as if I was right next to them.

I've got another counseling meeting coming up in the next week. It's with Lena this time, not Fran. Lena called me last week and wanted to schedule a time for me to come in and chat with her. At the time when she called me I was thinking, "I don't need these things anymore, I'm fine," although now when I think about it, it is probably good for me to go in every so often and clear my brain out. So far it hasn't done any harm to me, so I reckon it can only help me in the long run. She actually gave me her mobile number as well just in case "I needed to reach her." Kind of scary, but at the same time, nice to know that I have a counselor on called, heaven forbid I have a random mental break down in public; I can just reach for my phone, give her a ring, and she can help me stop hyperventilating without me even being in her office.

It's lazy days at the moment. While it is nice to not have any obligations or coursework weighing me down, I would like to get a steady schedule so I can have something to do during the day. There are only so many things I can do here at the flat or at my nearby parks, before I'll start getting irritated, before I start going mental. I want to work. I need to work. I'm ready to work. And in between working, you can find me sprawled out in a warm sun patch in some soft, green grass.

Posted by Sam at 10:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

We leave the windows open all day, despite the danger of wasps finding their way in, and most of the flower petals on the trees have fallen off and floated down from the trees with every leap from the squirrels on their branches. It feels like summer is creeping up on us in the city, and while it does feel...warm...it also feels new and hopeful. I'm excited. I'm curious. I'm anxious. And I'm going to be staying in London all summer.

I won't be going back to VA, not because of anything terrible. Momma and I haven't had a fall out; in fact, life with Momma has never been this good before. We just thought it would probably be better for everyone (and cheaper) if I stayed here, work and save my money, rather than go back and fluff around all summer. Mel will be coming back here for a few weeks, though, which will be nice. I'll be with Helen for the majority of the time, since Trish will eventually be going back home, Carlene will be heading back to her hometown, Zoe will be in Greece, and everyone else will be spreading out back to their homes. It'll be weird, I'm sure, but I guess everyone has to do it eventually - we can't always just go back home.

I think it'll be good for me as well, to sort everything out as far as my own finances go and state of mind. I can learn to get back on track by myself, without having to head back to the slow pace of life in VA whenever things get a bit rocky for me. I've got a good support system here, and I forgot that until my meeting with Fran this past week.

Yes, the counseling meeting went very well. I was a little skeptical at first, and even considered not going, just because it was raining, it was early, and I wasn't in the mood. But then I decided to put on my boots and head out anyway. You never know until you try, and don't knock it 'til you try it, as they say - whoever 'they' might be.

I arrived completely drenched from walking in the rain without an umbrella. I thought the hood on my jacket would be enough, but I was wrong. I was slightly early, but that was fine, and it gave me enough time to sort myself and dry off a little bit before Fran arrived, who was prepared for the cloudy weather with a massive umbrella in her hand.

We sat opposite each other in her quaint office and the door shut. I noticed a small table off to my left that only had a homely lamp and a box of tissues on it. I guess I wasn't the only one who might have cried behind the closed door.

She had a couple of forms resting in her lap and began by asking me general questions: what was my full name, my phone number, address and so forth. She then told me that she would be making notes throughout our conversation and asked me if I minded.

"No, no, I don't mind at all," I told her and smiled awkwardly. I wasn't entirely sure what to do, how to sit or what to say.

"Have you ever been here before, or ever had counseling before this?" she asked me.

"Um, nope. This is my first time," I said.

"Well, what were you expecting from this conversation?" she asked in her gentle voice.

"I guess just to get a better understanding of myself, and why I've been feeling the way I've been feeling recently."

"And how have you been feeling?"

"Like shit."

She laughed a little, and from there on out, our conversation flowed easily as if she were just one of the girls who occasionally made notes on the papers that rested in her lap. It was a simple thing to do - she asked me questions and I answered them. However, the questions she asked me were different from the ones that other people ask me, or the ones that I ask myself. They were more simple and direct, and to the point. It helped me put a lot of different things in perspective and made me realize different things about myself that I had briefly considered in my own time, but quickly shrugged off, because I was not dependent on other people; I did not take on other people's problems as my own; I did not over work myself. Those were definitely things I was not. But I was. Denial is a crazy thing.

There were a couple of moments when I thought that I might break down and cry, but I managed to swallow the lump that was in my throat and hold the waterworks back a few times. It was mostly when she asked me questions about Momma, and our relationship. I am a classic cliché who tends to have issues stemming straight from her mother. Go figure.

The meeting ended with us swapping different name's of author's whose books that we loved, and deciding that I don't need regular counseling. I'm a stable person with a good head on her shoulders, but I will be going back every few weeks just for check ups to see how I'm doing...in life. Although, I'll be seeing somebody else since Fran won't be here over the summer. A lady named, Lena, who she said that I'd probably really like and get on with.

I walked out and lit up a cigarette immediately, but felt good. Really good. Refreshed. Like a big weight had been lifted off of my chest and made me optimistic about things again. I felt like she had unearthed the old Sam that believes she can do things, and believes in herself. Yeah, I've been kicked down in the dumps, but I'm strong enough to pull myself up and out of this. I can do it, but I don't have to do it alone. I've got good, close friends here that I can rely on. I've got Momma and Mel back home, and I know I have my ladies here that I can count on, even if I don't tell them things straight away.

I know I've written a lot about how my second year has been shit and horrible, and how bad I've felt recently, but even though life has been a bit crap for me the second time round, I'm hopeful that I can turn things around this summer and kick off my last and final year on a good note. The entire time I've been here in London, I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. I do focus a lot more on the bad, than I do on the good, and I forget that even though I've been through some really shit times, I've always made it out on the other side a better and stronger person. I like to consider myself more of a city girl now, and I'm a lot more confident when it comes to me navigating my own way around the city. And if I do get lost, I'm positive that I'll always find my way back home. Hell, I seem to do it every time I'm drunk, and miraculously make it back with all of my belongings.

I've met incredible people that I'm sure I'll know for the rest of my life. I've learned how to interact with others, how to network my way around, learned new things about people and learned new things about myself. And every now and then, I have to be reminded about those things.

So while it would be nice to be back in VA, driving around, listening to music and eating food that I've been craving for months, it'll be good for me to stick it out here in good 'ole London Town, sorting myself out. I'm looking forward to that, and more importantly, I believe I can do it.

Posted by Sam at 12:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)