After working solidly throughout the year, I have ended up with almost all of my holiday allocation untouched. This is not unusual, given my character, personality, or whatever you might describe as “the way I am”. I’ve always been happier to be busy than at a loose end – and have no doubt been taken advantage of in the past.
A panic meeting of sorts was convened towards the end of the summer, during which approval was given for me to take one week off per month for the remainder of the year. The first of those weeks is next week.
I have no idea how I might use my days. While it’s nice to think that I might award a few of them to myself, I have no doubt I will end up surrendering the majority to others.
The house doesn’t clean or tidy itself. Washing doesn’t put itself in the machine. Clothes don’t get themselves dry, folded, or put away. Shoes and coats. Who knows where the hell all the shoes and coats come from, or who they even belong to. We won’t start about the house guests (the cats), and their propensity to eject half their body-weight in fur overnight onto any soft furnishings that they think they might be able to f*ck up the most.
If I’m not working, I imagine all responsibility will instantly fall on me to do everything that others might ordinarily do. It’s funny how that works.
Perhaps if I make enough money through the side-hustle (the pretend aeroplane YouTube escapade), I can order food in every night?
When presented with the option, I tend to prefer eating in over going out. I think it’s the whole performance that gets me down – the getting a table somewhere, waiting to order, having to order “this without that, and that, but not how it’s listed, and can you do one of those but without this or that?”, and then having to wait for service staff to turn up and take payment. Don’t get me wrong – not washing up is glorious, but the rest of it – it’s so tiresome. At home I can order take-away, sit in front of a movie, and that’s it.
The advent of places where you can order via an app from your table has improved the experience for me ten fold – except of course no mobile apps allow idiotic changes or questions to be answered, so I end up waiting in line at the bar along with either the most fussy, objectionable, or similarly hassled.
I once stood in just such a queue, and listened while a man ordered a dinner for his wife – removing 90% of the content of the dish from it. Why bother? Why go out if you’re going to refuse everything on the menu and then complain about it?
I think some people just like to complain. I don’t think they realise they’re doing it – or the effect it has on those around them? (says the guy writing a blog post essentially ripping the entire world a new one).
It’s kind of built into me to worry about others. An intrinsic empathy. I’m often reminded of the book “The Celestine Prophecy”, and it’s postulation that most human interactions can be re-framed as transfers of energy. Some people give, and some people take. The worst part? Some people engineer drama to take energy from others – preying on their empathy or concerns. I seem to remember the book calling it the “poor me” drama.
While I might complain here – about everything and nothing in equal measure – I don’t tend to trouble anybody in the “real world”. When asked how I am, a default “fine” usually deflects the question. I’m sometimes wary – it depends on the person of course – that “how are you?” really means “let me satisfy social norms by asking you first, but really I want to complain about my situation to somebody, and you look like a willing victim”.
I’m painting a very dark picture of the world, aren’t I. The real world is of course multi-coloured, multi-faceted, and filled with light (without which the darkness couldn’t exist).
There’s probably a glib quote about searching for the light when surrounded by what seems like so much darkness. Maybe I should make that a goal through the rest of the year – to look for the light – the smiles – the up-sides.
On about goals, I’ve been tinkering with a mobile application recently that a friend recommended to our daughter. It’s called “Finch”. It’s rather crafty – it uses a virtual pet – a daemon of sorts – as a lever to encourage mindfulness, to track goals, to engage in quests, and to reflect on how you think you’re doing. Goals can be as simple as getting up, or brushing your teeth. Over time the app builds insights around your moods, emotions, and mental health. Like I said – it’s clever. If you have a few minutes over the weekend, it’s worth checking out.