Frogs and fridges and fulltime employment
3 Jul 2005
I have been working fulltime for two and a half weeks. How rude! Let me tell you I never want to go back to that again. My CV reads like this: I worked in a supermarket while I was at high school. I started working in an office fulltime when I finished high school, did my degree part-time, went overseas and worked in London, had a six month break when I had Louis, went back to work fulltime, worked during my second pregnancy and had a year break when Blair was born, and went back to work for two years after that. My husband has a long commute, so he is gone at 6:30am and is not home again till 7:30-8:00pm. I was cranky all the time, my sleep was fitful and I had insomnia, I screamed like a banshee at the husband and the children, and we ate a lot of takeaway, for which I felt incredibly guilty. Almost three years ago I was given a project to complete for which I had absolutely no skills, training or support. Having a personality like mine, I was so frozen with fear I couldn't even look at it, convinced that I had no aptitude for the task - also I NEVER ask for help. So I had been churning up about this project, day and night, putting it off, procrastinating, for months.
One Friday I went in to the office and got out all the paperwork, rolled up my sleeves and decided I was going to knock it over by hook or by crook. I began researching, looking at previous years workpapers etc etc etc, realising with relief that I could probably do it if I put my head down. Then a thought suddenly hit me (ah yes it does happen from time to time). This is a waste of time. If I fail at this task, these people will crucify me. I use more energy worrying about what these people think and my performance at work than I do about my family. And these people don't deserve it, they think no-one is indespensible and here in the office they are right - no matter how many hours I put in at this desk they don't care because there are others in line willing to do the same. But there is one place where I am not indispensible and I am never there. The twistedness and wrongness of my priorities suddenly became crystal clear and I walked into the manager's office and resigned right then and there. I didn't even ask my husband for his opinion ( I later realised this was quite rash - but that's part of my personality as well).
Oh my god the relief! And then there were the agonising final two weeks working your notice period where nobody wants to know you because you are leaving - they're either jealous or feel betrayed and the awful awkward leaving do involving a speech your manager doesn't want to make, a speech you don't want to make, and a bunch of colleagues only there for the cake. I went to the pub with the stalwarts and got riotously drunk at lunchtime. I cleared my desk somewhat under the weather, the only way to do it I firmly believe.
So now, any work I get freelance or whatever is a bonus, and I do it on my terms. I won't go in every day because I have to do the swimming, dancing, sport taxi thing. I don't want it all. I don't care if I have to make compromises financially, I have been brainwashed by magazines and advertising to want all this excess consumption anyway. I don't need the designer clothes I used to buy, I don't need to drive an M class Mercedes, I don't need to buy a pair of shoes every week, the suburban hairdresser acquantance is just as good as the ridiculously expensive celebrity hairdresser (ok -this one is totally untrue), and nobody cares if the kids aren't in DKNY or Paul Smith at birthday parties.
I am a much happier, calmer and more loving person as a result of this. It may not be for everyone, but it works for me. And husband gets a bit more of my time too, for which I presume he is grateful.
Anyway, I did some frogging on Thursday night. I piled it all up on a table and my daughter said to me, "did you make that castle?" so, here it is, the yarncastle.
Just to give you some idea of the volume of yarn I emancipated; here's what some of it was before:
and
The blanket is my oldest unfinished object. I realistically reasoned that I was never going to finish it so I frogged it. The wrap thing was the fruit of my first knitalong. I finished, wore it once and hated it. It's back on the needles though as the poncho from the same pattern leaflet. I don't usually like ponchos but I think this one might be okay.
And finally, since I am so happy that blogger has come to the picture party and made it so easy to post pictures on the blogs I took some more photos. Here's what my family room would look like if I didn't have a family. It was tidy like this for about ten seconds.
Here's whats in my fridge:
Glamour item: wild hibiscus flowers in syrup - they bubble up and open in the bottom of champagne flutes - tres chic darling.
Ocker Item: Tooheys New - man beer.
Hippy item: tossup between homemade pumpkin soup and organic tahini.
Most embarrassing item: slimy salad vegetables in the bottom.
Oldest item: half jar of pesto - at least 18 months old, it came from the previous
house.
So there you go. Tomorrow we may talk about Tom Cruise, Shane Warne, friendship and tv. Be good my lovelies.
One Friday I went in to the office and got out all the paperwork, rolled up my sleeves and decided I was going to knock it over by hook or by crook. I began researching, looking at previous years workpapers etc etc etc, realising with relief that I could probably do it if I put my head down. Then a thought suddenly hit me (ah yes it does happen from time to time). This is a waste of time. If I fail at this task, these people will crucify me. I use more energy worrying about what these people think and my performance at work than I do about my family. And these people don't deserve it, they think no-one is indespensible and here in the office they are right - no matter how many hours I put in at this desk they don't care because there are others in line willing to do the same. But there is one place where I am not indispensible and I am never there. The twistedness and wrongness of my priorities suddenly became crystal clear and I walked into the manager's office and resigned right then and there. I didn't even ask my husband for his opinion ( I later realised this was quite rash - but that's part of my personality as well).
Oh my god the relief! And then there were the agonising final two weeks working your notice period where nobody wants to know you because you are leaving - they're either jealous or feel betrayed and the awful awkward leaving do involving a speech your manager doesn't want to make, a speech you don't want to make, and a bunch of colleagues only there for the cake. I went to the pub with the stalwarts and got riotously drunk at lunchtime. I cleared my desk somewhat under the weather, the only way to do it I firmly believe.
So now, any work I get freelance or whatever is a bonus, and I do it on my terms. I won't go in every day because I have to do the swimming, dancing, sport taxi thing. I don't want it all. I don't care if I have to make compromises financially, I have been brainwashed by magazines and advertising to want all this excess consumption anyway. I don't need the designer clothes I used to buy, I don't need to drive an M class Mercedes, I don't need to buy a pair of shoes every week, the suburban hairdresser acquantance is just as good as the ridiculously expensive celebrity hairdresser (ok -this one is totally untrue), and nobody cares if the kids aren't in DKNY or Paul Smith at birthday parties.
I am a much happier, calmer and more loving person as a result of this. It may not be for everyone, but it works for me. And husband gets a bit more of my time too, for which I presume he is grateful.
Anyway, I did some frogging on Thursday night. I piled it all up on a table and my daughter said to me, "did you make that castle?" so, here it is, the yarncastle.
Just to give you some idea of the volume of yarn I emancipated; here's what some of it was before:
and
The blanket is my oldest unfinished object. I realistically reasoned that I was never going to finish it so I frogged it. The wrap thing was the fruit of my first knitalong. I finished, wore it once and hated it. It's back on the needles though as the poncho from the same pattern leaflet. I don't usually like ponchos but I think this one might be okay.
And finally, since I am so happy that blogger has come to the picture party and made it so easy to post pictures on the blogs I took some more photos. Here's what my family room would look like if I didn't have a family. It was tidy like this for about ten seconds. Here's whats in my fridge:
Glamour item: wild hibiscus flowers in syrup - they bubble up and open in the bottom of champagne flutes - tres chic darling.
Ocker Item: Tooheys New - man beer.
Hippy item: tossup between homemade pumpkin soup and organic tahini.
Most embarrassing item: slimy salad vegetables in the bottom.
Oldest item: half jar of pesto - at least 18 months old, it came from the previous
house.
So there you go. Tomorrow we may talk about Tom Cruise, Shane Warne, friendship and tv. Be good my lovelies.
posted by knitabulous at Sunday, July 03, 2005 |
