Kindness seems like a very difficult attribute to find in most people these days. At work the trending topic is unkindness. We have repeat offenders who just have not been socially trained to be kind.
It takes less energy to say excuse me than it does to barge into a conversation and demand to be heard.
I have a colleague at the moment who is setting his fate to be turned out onto the street because of his unkindness. This morning, I was once again confronted with his bad behaviour. He needed immediate attention and so pursued his campaign of Me Me Me by interrupting a conversation that I was having with another Colleague. A colleague who I was helping. And so it began,the angry little man started his ranting and stomping of feet. He needed attention immediately.
I thought to myself, in my New York State of mind, what the hell is wrong with you? Are you freaking kidding me? I thought it and did not say it. I instead told the angry little man that he was being disrespectful. I felt like I was talking to a two year old having a tantrum. He stopped for a second to catch his breath. Oh, the poor little man was upset and not getting his way.
So, how does a grown man make it through life acting like a two year old? I have no idea, because where I come from someone would have sorted his attitude out a long time ago.
I now feel as though it is my civic duty to show this man that bad behaviour gets you no where. Kindness goes much further.
Be kind all of the time, if you can.
I need glasses. I completely misread the letter that I received the other day. I thought it was instructing me to attend an appointment this Tuesday. Luckily I checked the letter last night, because the appointment is not until next month. A doh moment that is for sure.
I can totally understand why I would misread the letter. I am stressed and not in the present at all. I am rushing through tasks at work and making silly mistakes. I even locked myself out of my computer today because I forgot my password. The same password I had used all morning. After lunch, it was like I couldn’t even remember my password at all. Scary.
What is going on with me? Forgetting simple things. Getting stressed over trivial tasks. Fearing what I cannot control.
I need a break from life. Stop working and just not do a thing. Not one thing except to relax.
I received a letter in the post today marked for my attention plus private and confidential. Before I opened it I knew what it was to be. This letter was sent to invite me to my first Cognitive Behavioural Therapy session. On this fine sunny Saturday, I now have this dark cloud hanging over me which will grow until bursts on Tuesday morning. I have mixed up emotions about this. I know that this first session will be my initiation into the realm of therapy. It will be the opportunity that I have been waiting for since the end of May when I first approached my GP.
It was a very big step forward that I knew I had to make or else I would be suffering in silence and in outbursts. Unlike other ailments, those of our mind and emotions are not always visible. I know I concealed my anguish and pain behind the mask of smiles. The mask cracked and there were many tears holding it in place.
The GP visit felt like a small triumph. Yes, I can get help. But this help takes many many weeks on the NHS. But it is free and I can not complain about money. Because that is what fundamentally the NHS is controlled by. How much coin can we move from defence spending into helping our citizens? Well, according to the government we are all going to have to make do with 40% less.
There will be casualties because of these cutbacks. And right now there are too many poor souls who do not have the means to get private healthcare and must self medicate. And this is not prescription medicine, it is drugs and alcohol. These are people who are on the fringes of society.
But I am fortunate to have a job and a place to call home. I have enough of my wits with me to know how and when I need to get help.
My boyfriend does meditation at night before he goes to bed and in the morning before he goes to work. He tells me that this is keeping him more focused, less anxious and is curbing his anger. I can see it working except for when the computer starts to go slow, and then I catch him kicking the computer. I kindly remind him that he is only making it worse. Not helpful really when someone is seeing red with frustration.
I find myself getting pushed into that direction everyday now because of work pressures. I can only take responsibility for my own actions when anger errupts but I cannot be held accountable for the bad behaviour acted out towards me from my colleagues. There are the constant interruptions when I am trying to have my lunch. I get a half hour. When I am interrupted during my lunch I kindly advise them that I will come and see them afterwards. The look on their faces is as if they have just been told that they have to eat a pile of poo. They then walk away offended.
This makes my blood boil. If the interruptions only happened occassionally then I would be reasonable but of late it is every day. Every day. And often the same people – male.
The culture of my workplace is very male dominated. And the other women, well they seem to be content on being taken advantage of.
There is no unification amongst the women because we are spread thin throughout the office building. But when I am able to have a chat with my kind, they too have the same complaints.
So, this afternoon while I am on my lunch I am writing this and guess what? Interrupted yet again by one of my male colleagues.
Here goes Nirvana’s Negative Creep playing on repeat through my mind. I am and will always be a Riot Girl.
I love this time of the summer especially for the stoned fruits. The top of my list are peaches. Every week for the next 4 – 6 weeks I will be buying in and eating as many peaches as I possibly can. A healthy snack and delicious. I wish that this yummy fruit was available all year round.
Whenever I see peaches on sale out of season I will not buy them because they will have travelled around the world to be sold. Good for the farmer but not so good for the planet.
The best thing you can do with fruits and vegetables is to eat seasonally, locally grown. Better for your health, pocket and the planet.
Oi vey! What a day. Living in this modern day in the Western world is not good for one’s emotional and physical health. From road rage that turns into road side murder to the Prime Minister declaring a crackdown on extremism. Luckily I have only experienced the road rage from fellow motorists and nothing so extreme as murder. And I have been fortunate enough to not have experienced the extremism that is repeated over and again as acts of terrorism in the media. So, how does this affect my day? Well, I do drive to work and I was nearly plowed into by a lorrie this morning at 7am. As for the extremism, well, it was not what the media portrays but it was enough to make me angry and upset.
I had to call the NHS today for a repeat prescription, only to be told by the Receptionist who was extremely unfriendly and abrupt that I would have to go into the Surgery to make the request. What?! This was news to me. I pleaded with the woman who was extremely rude, on this occasion to oblige. Answer a firm no. It was not that the policy changed it was in fact that the policy always existed and no one was enforcing it. For shame on them. So, how is this extremism you may ask? Well it is not unlike some individual’s loose interpretation of their religious beliefs. Picking and choosing how to interact with society. So in light of my trivial experience I reflect upon the world today and ask everyone to just take it easy for a while and not be so extreme. Take time to accept that we are all humans. We are more alike than we are different. In the words of a deceased Rodney King whose own extreme treatment sparked race riots 20 years ago: “Can’t we all just get along?”
I woke up this morning and sat on the couch chilling out with my cup of coffee. I grabbed my IPad and started browsing through Facebook. The usual posts from the same people until something just threw me for a loop. It was my “friends” dressed up and looking all smiley at one of my other “friends” wedding. I felt a pang of stabbing in my stomach. So, here it is in reality that is Facebook my “friends” chose his side. Again. In what will be nearly two years since our separation, my “friends” have barely spoken to me.
I am the casualty in my own decision to walk away. No friends. No home. No weddings. Not that the wedding is important but seeing everyone smiling and laughing. That is what hurts.
I have moved on and it has not been easy.
This is me and my story. From New York to the UK and everything on the way.