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Forwarding Address
August 03, 2005

28 years-old
April 19, 2005

human...
April 17, 2005

Pancreatitis
April 14, 2005

Depressed
April 13, 2005


The current mood of aliwalidoodah at www.imood.com

2003-06-05 - 8:59 a.m.

Work work work.

25 weeks to go

177 days to go

Thursday already. The week isn�t so much going fast as just blurring past in a fug. This last week in my job has been, to put it mildly, horrendous. Opening my eyes to a new day is a chore as all that lays before me is a day full of nasty negative meanie people. I fear today will be no exception.

I am a perfectionist and I hate getting things wrong. But what I hate even more is being set up to fail. If I organise refreshments for an evening meeting a week in advance and call the Chair to check if there is anything else needed and she says �no�, then how I am supposed to know to set up flipcharts and an OHP too? And how, when I have left at 4.40pm, am I supposed to correct the situation when she calls to complain at 4.45pm? I have a rather hassled message on my voicemail which I am sure will turn into a rather irate conversation later on this morning.

People seem to have a problem with my voicemail. When they call they can�t stand it if I am not there to bow down immediately to their every need. I have voicemail so I can go to meetings, so I can run about the building doing my job. Do they think I just switch on my voicemail at 9am then bugger off home?

And being at home doesn�t relax me. Because my �home� is more like a 24 hour motel and storage company in one. There are four of us cramped in there at the moment � not pleasant for anybody really. The future hubby�s and my stuff is in boxes everywhere. Wherever there is floor space in the flat it is covered with a box of some description containing something belonging to me or Monkey. This makes it:

a) extremely hard to move around the flat without breaking a toe or bruising one�s self

b) extremely hard to find anything � clothes, hairbrush, make-up, books, tweezers, chequebook�.

c) feel like we are living in the bottom of a giant wardrobe belonging to a disorganised person.

I cannot begin to describe to you how exhausting it is to have all your belongings packed up. It doesn�t sound stressful but it is, trust me.

I know I am whinging and being negative and silly, I know that in the great scheme of things my problems don�t matter, I know that I shouldn�t let the bastards get me down and I know that there are people out there who would give a limb to be living my life.

But I reserve the right to have moan nevertheless.

I dream every day of the remote desert island in the Indian ocean where we will be on our honeymoon. We couldn�t have chosen a better location to get away from it all! And when the glitter and mania of the wedding preparation is over, when the excitement of the day is over, when there isn�t a family member in sight and we�re millions of miles away from civilisation (with its photocopiers, flipcharts and OHPS�) I know that Monkey and I will be alone, together, with only the sound of Indian sea. And that�s what keeps me going.

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