Monthly Archives: March 2009

The clocks are lying to me


So, the day started with me being awake at 5.00 a.m. which in real time meant I was awake at 4.00a.m.

So, now when I’m normally winding down for a couple of hours to myself and relaxing, I’ve unwound at a rapid rate, and am good for nothing but sleep.

I think an extra long Annual Parochial General Meeting has aided the zombified feeling. As has the arrival of a visitor, who I’m going to have to talk to in some depth, and the impending new round of discussions.

We will draw a veil over what on earth happened during one of today’s hymns. I love “St Patrick’s Breastplate” but I have never in my life got so lost in it! Nor had to deal with such recalcitrant hymnbooks that would not stay open on the organ stand! (I had three of them!) It didn’t help that I wasn’t really today’s organist, but got asked last minute if I could play for just that one hymn. So, I didn’t really get warmed up properly.

I wonder if “directing and organising with much enthusiasm and energy” is a euphemism for bossy?

Lights off!

though, there was nothing I could do to convince the rest of the household that turning a few lights off was acceptable for an hour when the TV schedule is set in stone on a Saturday night. Mind you, I can’t convince her to turn lights off when she’s not in a room anyway.

I didn’t dare have candles in my room, though, as we have a somewhat hyper sensitive and drama queen-ish fire alarm system. Least thing sets it off. And it’s Loud. So, I’ve been sitting pondering life and the universe in the dark.

Mentally drafting a Very Important E-mail to be precise. A mixture of me being supportive and sympathetic, but also formal and passing on information that the recipient doesn’t need to act on, but might feel obliged to offer to, and I don’t want that until the time is right. Which is not now. (Well, from my point of view it was three weeks ago, but from his it’s going to be a while….)

Tricky. Very tricky. I think, and pray, I’ve got the balance right! I’ve sent it, anyway. We shall see.

So, now I await the reply…. and maybe I should switch the lights on again! Though, I’m quite liking just sitting in the dark.

Surreal Week….

when matters occupying my mind have been somewhat even more diverse and varied than usual.

I have been envisaging Fairtrade stalls the world over stocking up on these and contemplating their introduction to my own Fairtrade selling (not in my local church). Well, I already sell chocolates and jewellery. Thanks Ferijen for alerting me to their existence! The thought of my own church stall selling such items was too much for my imagination and is in the “I am not even thinking about it!” category.

Then, it’s been the Feast of the Annunciation, and the annual opportunity to take Our Lady for a walk in the local streets. It’s done for another year. Maybe next year is definitely the year we introduce elephants…

Devious means of getting brownies to me from 130 miles away have been devised. Yummy!!

My line manager’s line manager discovered a whole new side of me yesterday. She may never recover! My line manager may never recover, either. She, however, had inklings about this side of me. On the other hand, the payroll department is still giggling, apparently. That can only be a good thing.

July is going to be a very busy month.

Methinks it’s time for tea.

Peeking my head above the parapet

Blinks eyes at the strong daylight, and squints out at the world…

Ah. OK, so where was I?

Good question. I’m not sure if this last ten days of almost complete isolation on all fronts has been self-indulgent or just very necessary to whatever it is that’s going on inside me. Words seem to have completely deserted me, and contact with anyone really difficult.

One of my current difficulties is with church I mostly go to – and the fact I’ve admitted to myself I can no longer maintain the fa├žade Sunday after Sunday that this kind of worship is helpful to me. It really was not good being there this morning, and I am taking myself somewhere else I’ve never been to this evening, and where I’m unlikely to be recognised, to see if a complete change either finishes me off completely, or I can regain some sense of God being in a church service.

I don’t cope with Mothering Sunday services where there are flowers given to every woman. I don’t mind them being given to mothers, and I don’t feel left out. I’m not a mother, I’m really not likely ever to be, and I don’t have a mother to give them to, and come to think of it, she wouldn’t have wanted them either! Flowers from me, yes. From a church she hated, no. But, it feels false for me to take them.

Nor did I cope well with the advice to “Give them to Mary, that’s what a lot of single women do.” (It’s a fairly Catholic Anglican church, and there are at least two statues of Mary very prominently displayed, and for complex reasons, for now, I have no choice about where I go to church), when flowers were brought to me at the organ, and I refused to take them initially. Eventually, I found someone who’d held back from asking for flowers for his mother’s grave, and was upset there were none left…. I very happily gave him the ones I so didn’t want!!

I’ve found lots of ways with coping with Mothering Sunday services, generally by focusing on praying for those with far more reason than me finding it hard to cope with, and this year the list was long! Friends who’s children should’ve been with them, and were not, friends struggling with infertility issues, friends with a dying 13 year old daughter, mothers dying too young.

Mmmm… I may not have physically done a vanishing act, but I’ve certainly done a mental vanishing act this week, and it’s not being easy re-entering life. I may have to find plan B!

Restoring inner calm and equilibrium

Eventually. It’s not there yet, but I am calmer than I was, and certainly less likely to do a vanishing act!

Sense finally prevailed and rather than stew about everything, I wrote every single last bit of it down, so that when talking happens, I won’t have forgotten it!! It’ll never get posted, and will be deleted once we’ve talked, but I needed to get it all out somewhere and somehow.

It felt odd to start with, because this is not someone I’m in the habit of writing the personal stuff to, either by e-mail or letter, other than to arrange to meet, or to pass on essential information. I discovered, in the process, I’ve not lost the knack of letter writing in this way. Once I’d got over the initial “This feels very odd…” it all flowed (literally, hankies were on one side of the computer) very easily, and simply.

So, whilst nothing has essentially changed, it seems more cope-able with for the next bit of time and uncertainty.

Mind you, I was nearly back to square one after the Scotland Ireland match. Honestly, who needs Lenten Penances when they support Scottish Rugby?


I fought, I tried all normal methods of distracting myself, but… on Tuesday it was Chocolate 3, Japes 0. I began again yesterday!

It really, really wasn’t a good day, and I’m still recovering from the effects of the quiet, but fairly scary flipping out. Not just the chocolate, or the on-going seismic internal stuff going on, (that’s sort of become my current normal default setting…) or even the walking out of a communion service, about half way through, because I could not bear to stay. That’s not normal, but happens occasionally, (last time was about four years ago,) and I deal with it very quietly, trying to avoid all well meaning people coming to check I’m aright, and taking myself away until I’m calm.

I will be happier once I’m out of this horrid limbo state of only a few people knowing what’s going on. I know I’m desperately looking forwards to a week of only me at home, which can be a week where I can stop being cool, calm and collected all the time. I really need to talk to the person I talk to most, but that can’t happen right now… it will, but I don’t know when yet.

There’s also another round of Humungous and Official discussions coming up, and I’m not sure I have the strength or the will to cope with them.

What I’m more scared will happen is an old, poor, coping mechanism of vanishing completely will assert itself. It’s been an even longer time since I did that, but at the moment, it’s a seriously attractive option.

Medicinal Chocolate and Letter Writing

Dilemma… Chocolate, amongst other things, has been given up for Lent.

However, today is one of those days, when nothing but chocolate will do. It happens maybe once every three/four months or so, and occasionally on a monthly basis…

Does this count as a medical emergency?

If I have some chocolate now, it will prevent me from dreaming of chocolate all day and getting seriously distracted from the many things on the job list. I can start again on the giving it up basis tomorrow!! I have maintained everything else (I have given up chocolate, cake, sweets, biscuits, crisps and proper puddings.)

If I don’t have any, the likely chances of going overboard later in the day are much higher, and the damage will be much worse. Both in terms of quantity of chocolate consumption, and guilt factor at going overboard.

If I manage to resist completely, will I be ‘orribly self-righteous about it? Even if just to myself?

Mmmm… it will also assist the letter writing. I am contemplating writing a Real Letter, in my own fair hand, which is proving somewhat difficult. The letter, not the physical writing thereof. Though, I’m not as in practice with that as I used to be!

I think I’ll try the toast and banana option first, and see how the chocolate cravings are going by lunch time…

Thank you!

To those who added their comments to my last post… obviously the way forward in my decision making is to bring it to the attention of my companions in wiblogging.

I’d not thought of music therapy, and it’s certainly a good thought.

I’m currently involved in FE, in a small way, though in a slightly unusual capacity, and there is a chance to move into some of the teaching. A bit of me likes the idea, and another bit of me doesn’t. I enjoy what I do already, and think if I’m to carry on working with that age range, that’s the way forwards for me…. but, it opens up a different can of worms.

Once upon a time, in the days when I was trying to work out What I Wanted To Be When I Grew Up, and was the despair of many of those trying to give me advice, the kind of compromise consensus was I’d be a good primary school teacher, and went into the training thinking this was what life was going to be. Well, I was categorically awful, and life changed…. and changed, for life I thought this time,…. and is about to change again.

Bizarrely, however, I’ve continued to work in schools, on and off, in different support capacities. Recently, the question has been coming back at me again and again… “Why are you not a teacher?” I do think, however, I make a better classroom assistant or teaching assistant than class teacher.

I shall keep musing on the matter! I have various interviews lined up with Helpful People soon, so we shall see what comes of them.

Infinitely more comfortable whilst thinking

I’ve mended my comfy chair. It’s had wobbly legs for a while now, and after the graceful-ish collapse of said chair, whilst I was pondering a blog post one day, it was diagnosed as ill, but nor terminal. But, it’s taken a few weeks to organise myself enough to do without it whilst the glue was setting for 24 hours! It finally happened yesterday.

So, I’m now back to blogging and fun-computery stuff in the comfort of a chair that’s not wobbly, and is far more comfortable than blogging at my desk! I am not convinced this is going to improve the quality, but it’s definitely improving my comfort levels.

So, having had a decent break from the deep thinking, it’s time it began again. It will involve thinking about questions of jobs and where to live…. I do chose my moments to be going in for a dramatic change in my life. But, even if it’s a case of I haven’t a clue where I’m going and what I’m going to be doing, I do know I cannot remain where I am. Every day now, it seems, there is further confirmation I’m doing the right thing. Sometimes it’s little, little things, other times, like this morning, it was the arrival of the paperwork from a meeting I had been excused from, and as I read, it felt as if it had nothing to do with me at all. It’s the fact that no-one I’ve told so far has been surprised, (though, that may come, it’s only my closest friends who know there’s anything to know).

Do I go back to being a student again?

Do I see if I really am called to primary school teaching, and untangle that which went so horribly wrong for me there twenty years ago. I’ve been doing classroom assistant work on and off, over the last 18 years or so, and recently had several teachers wondering why I’m not teaching!

Do I revert to a former incarnation and work as a piano and clarinet teacher? Possibly some basic organ teaching! There is a serious shortage of organists!

Do I think about social work?

Do I think about working in bookshops again… maybe not long term.

Do I think about FE teaching? There are several options there…

Luckily, there’s no rush about any of this!

Not the best playing…

Bother. Those with any musicality knew I wasn’t exactly at my best at church today. But, I think I need to do some more work with the organ and find out exactly which stops are not working. As well as working out which sound on the electric piano thingy is the most effective.

However, once I got home, and had half an hour with the house to myself, I did sing and play “Jesus put this song into our hearts” with much gusto for Smudgie, and “Cwm Rhondda” for the Welsh, and “O, Love that will not let me go” and “What a friend we have in Jesus” just because, and then, having made me cry, (as “O, Love that will not let me go” is prone to doing) I played through a few of my favourites for me.

This week is interesting to say the least. it’s all happening, but not on the days I would normally expect them to. The potential for it to all go Horribly Wrong is enormous. However, I’ve been very organised, and packed the four different work bags for the week, and I just have to get to the right places, at the right times!

Now, to muse on the fact that either I’ve lost more weight, or various unmentionable undergarments have given up their elasticity in their older age, and thereby rendering them either lacking in proper support, or unable to stay put. I’m hopeful it’s more the first theory, with a hint of the second theory. There may be a touch of the second theory being more plausible, and the first not being as credible as the old scales have been suggesting. (I have purchased new scales today.) But, as most of my jeans are all looser, and so are most of my tee-shirts, I can hope it’s weight loss!