A tiny little self indulgent post

For the longest time, I felt lost. I had forgotten who I was, neglected to do the things that made me feel alive. I’d given so much of myself to those that demanded it that I was just a shadow of who I used to be. Even after I had let go of most of what weighed me down, I still didn’t know how to get back to being me. I couldn’t remember what it felt like and I had no idea where to look. Then one night, in a rare moment of freedome I drifted into a semi crowded room with a friend and there, while waiting for the band to set up, we heard the starting strains of a familiar Puddle of Mudd song. Sitting there on what was probably a packing case of some sort, we belted it out and as we got to the first chorus of she fucking hates me; I remembered what it felt like to be me. That was the small turning point i had needed. To feel alive again, to feel like yes, i can have theses small moments all to myself separate from the responsibility and mundanity i was drowning in. And now, hell, I’m just grateful to be back.

Unfinished Business

Note: this was written in two phases, the first section was written ages ago and i unearthed the word doc today. The last two lines were added then.

what’s in a word

if not meant in earnest

where’s the promise

if it’s broken again

if truth is an enigma wrapped up in a riddle

why do we strive

if we do not gain

if you get what you ask for

does it satisfy

keep asking

and the refusals pile up

where the hell was i going with this

can’t remember but it sounds like rot

Dance

dance the age old dance

doesn't mean a thing we say

where is romance

no room for it in the masquerade

these are the terms of our endearment

confined within the rules of appeasement

whirl in this great pretense

thrive on pure contentment

believe that it only lasts for as long as it should last

so we dance

Past tense first

all the wrong words said the right way

doesn't make it go away

when you tell me that you like her

what am i supposed to say

tell me all about her

tell me all your hopes and dreams

i don't fit in to your life

i might as well listen, no matter how bad it feels

so tell me; hell i got nothing but time

tell me; no i swear it's fine

i have learnt enough from life

to know where the borders lie

so sit right here

and tell me all about

the girl you met

the one i know i'm not

i'll listen

you know i always will

Un-named

Do you dare colour outside the lines?

Would you, if you could?

A sense of right has us roped in tight

Should we muster up the strength to break through?

What would they say, if they knew?

Well, do you really care about the opinion of the virtuous?

It’s theirs to hold; must we lend a hand if we don’t even believe?

The fundamentals of their faith

Is based on conventional norms

But who’s to say convention is right?

I say there are no lines

As long as you don’t invade anyone else’s canvas

Colour where you damn well please

Tales from a chicken coop

The half eaten pizza is not a constant

Having been subject to step motherly treatment at work I should have vented while I was still good and mad. Unfortunately I was reduced to working off a laptop sitting on top of a locker (the laptop, not me) for two days and I was getting a crick in my neck. So I will gather whatever feelings of resentment and anger I can muster now and sally forth.

So basically, in a clichéd nutshell, we’ve been shoved into a personal space of approximately 3.5 feet by 2.5 feet and expected to work in such close proximity with our neighbors that if you push your chair back you bump into the person behind you. No, I’m not exaggerating. Yesterday I pushed my chair back and bumped into my ex-husband. Weird coincidence you say? Not really, he happens to be on my team.

Anyway, so obviously, from the time our stuff was unceremoniously plonked down on this sorry ass excuse for a workstation, I’ve been kicking up a steaming fuss. And after running around talking to practically everyone involved and several people not even remotely involved I at least got a partial solution. What was this solution? They took away one of my computers to make room on the work top. Brilliant notion! Why didn’t I think of that? Why I could’ve merely opened the window and… oh, that’s right, the windows don’t open.

Apparently I’m not supposed to feel bad about the fact that we are being treated differently to the other employees.

“Oh, no, dear me, don’t feel bad” they say, cheerily. “It’s not just your team. Why there are two other teams on either side of you! What’s that? The rest of the company gets to keep their workstations that are twice the size of what you have now? Pshaw, child! This is pure whimsy. Don’t go with the norm! This is the way forward! You are the pioneers of the new future! Chin up!”

And off they walk back to their ginormous office rooms.

I’ve also been told that this is a ‘temporary’ measure. And that I only have to wait till a certain new building comes up. And once it does, we will have brand spanking new accommodation. Well, by golly, so far there isn’t even a hole in the ground where the building’s supposed to fit, so where exactly am I supposed to rest my hopes? On the verdant greenery that surrounds the building wherein resides my shoddy excuse for a desk?

I guess by now you’re thinking, “surely she’s exaggerating? It’s probably not that bad” whilst sitting at your 7 foot desk and stretching your legs and leaning back as far as you damn well please. Well, I am not exaggerating. If I keep my locker under my desk as I’m supposed to, I have no space for my chair. I tried this yesterday and I had to resort to resting my elbow on my knee it order to be able to manipulate the mouse with some degree of comfort. Once the pins and needles set in my nearly comatose body had to pried off my chair.

I have been told that a list of our grievances has been forwarded to the relevant official. (I sincerely hope said official’s BMW of which I’m sure he is inordinately proud, develops engine trouble in the near future and explodes. Then I will point at him -he will be maimed, not killed- and say “ha ha” in a sneering manner. ) I don’t think anything will come of this making of lists but at least then the people who documented it will feel better. “We have forwarded it to the necessary party” they will proclaim proudly, whilst seated at their moderate sized desks in their ginormous offices.

So there it is. Stuck in a chicken coop till a building comes up. Such is my fate. I don’t like this fellow Fate, he’s a bit of a bitch.

Colour Blind

hello green eyed monster

treading softly on tiptoe, catching me unawares

velvet gloves that hide your claws

claws that dig deep and latch on while you taunt me, seduce me

irrational thought is what you feed on

greedy greedy being that you are

scavenger of thoughtless words

destroyer of good intentions

hovering in the recess of my mind

push you away, yet banish you i cannot

green eyes glint

i succumb

Musings (8)

sometimes the little that we have is better than the nothing we might be left with