Thanks for the feedback…

 

wykl6

I am just going to be open about this from the start… I am a useless blogger. Absolutely useless. What happened to I am going to blog every day? What happened to winning best new blogger? I do this though. I have always been a buy all the gear no idea type of person. Like hiking. I decided that it might be a good way to meet my future husband. I was going to become a hiker. I was doing internet dating at the time and my entire profile was filled with my love of hiking, nature and the great outdoors. I had the backpack, the shoes, the head lamp, the water bottle. I went on one hike and decided that hiking really wasn’t for me. It’s a lot of walking uphill. I am not good at uphills. I do still use my head lamp to read in bed at night though, so not a total waste. Anyway, back to the point, my blogging career has not taken off quite as well as I had hoped. I have realised that I actually have to blog and so, here goes.

One of the reasons I have been so slack is that I recently got a promotion at work. More like a ‘promotion’ if I am honest. You know one of those ‘We really value your input so we are giving you a promotion. From now on you’ll have double the work, double the hours, double the responsibility and double the pay! No! Only kidding about the pay, same pay double the work, well done! I was pretty caught up in all the compliments so I only realised after leaving the meeting that I had been totally screwed over. Nice.

Part of my new role is that I have to interact more with clients. I hate clients. I don’t actually like people very much, no offense… Clients are needy. They have an opinion about EVERYTHING. They call and message at insane hours. They give feedback. Endless feedback. I hate feedback. So while I may not have been the best blogger lately, I have mastered the art of saying, ‘thank you for the feedback’ instead of ‘go fuck yourself’ (sorry for swearing mom).  Business-Cat-Meme-Cat-Meme-Funny-lol-pictures-cats-jokes-put-your-feedback-in-my-suggestion-box__zpsd4a9ba85-300x300

Other than that life has been pretty much the same. I still have moments when I feel incredibly sad about the politician. Which is silly really as we have now been apart for longer than we were together. That and the fact that he is complete ass…I guess that’s just the way it goes…

Have a happy Sunday. Please don’t send me any feedback.

 

 

Therapist 5.0

Okay, so I promised myself I would blog everyday…I am particularly good at starting things and not finishing. So, yes, here we go, a few days late…bare with people, I am getting there! I love the way I say people, when I should really say, yes mom, I haven’t forgotten about my soon to be budding blog. The one that is going to generate millions in advertising. And, on that note, it’s not necessary to message me each time you spot a spelling mistake…

So as you know I have been feeling a bit down. You might say I have a bad case of the blues. Life was starting to get quite out of hand and getting out of bed has been harder than usual, which in winter is pretty bloody hard.

Before the politician and I broke up, we found, at his suggestion I might add, the most beautiful little cottage in the fancy part of Constantia. We were set to move in on the 25th of June and we would go there often and look at the vines and plan our new home. When I say often I literally mean the day before we broke up. So, while he was saving the country from junk status and impending doom, I organised the entire move – from finding a tenant to make sure he got his deposit back, to packing boxes, booking movers, cleaners, storage etc. I never got to live in the fancy part of Constantia . I have been obsessing a bit about him and his ex in my new home, when I say a bit I mean seething but not doing slow drive-bys, except for that one time – calm down mom I am joking!

Anyway, the point of all the above is that I realised the obsession was not helping me move forward and damn I am determined to move forward. So, I decided to return to therapy. I have had a lot of therapy and many therapists. In fact this one will be number FIVE. Now, while I know I am the common denominator, previous walks along the therapeutic journey have not gone so well. Let me break it down for you:

Therapist number one: She spent a lot of time crying about her boyfriend and than even more time crying when he transitioned to her ex-boyfriend. I am all for being supportive but at R750 for 45 mins? That’s like R10 a tear people.

Therapist number two: A homely woman that I saw while I lived in London for a little while. We met in her lounge, problem number one, and she gave me a hug at the end of my third session, to be honest I may have initiated…but I was homesick and depressed. She then sent me a three page email on how inappropriate the hug was, it’s not like I grabbed her ass, anyway she said she wasn’t sure if she could keep seeing me as I clearly have an issue with boundaries, duh, that’s why I was there…Needless to say we never made it to session four.

Therapist number three: He was the loveliest most gentle chap who I saw when I lived in Durban. I know I move around a lot. He was very kind and we had our once a week session in a tiny wendy-house at the bottom of his garden. Aside from the excruciating heat, lack of air and endless mosquitoes, he was very sweet. So much so that I felt guilty telling him what a mess my life was, so I lied and said I was all good. And he endlessly congratulated me on how well I was taking care of myself…I should probably point out that, at the time, I was living with a guy who was having some kind of psychotic breakdown and thought he owned Facebook…have I mentioned my excellent taste in men?

Therapist number four: She was very hip and she spoke a lot. As in some sessions I didn’t get a word in. It was okay, although unlike before I was probably a bit too honest and she spent a lot of time telling me what a mess I was. She then, in an effort to help me, started treating my boyfriend at the time….It seems she too struggled with boundaries. When I insisted that their sessions stop she left me this terrible voicemail about how she hopes I am happy that I have finally won. That I stopped his therapeutic journey and, as a result, his future happiness and that I am a terrible person. I don’t think I really need to elaborate as to why I stopped therapy after that. I mean, who am I to stand in the way of someone else’s therapeutic journey??

So now we are on therapist number five: At R900 an hour she better be a fast worker. I have only had one session, but I like her. She asked me quite pointed questions about the politician. One of which being: Am I aware that he is narcissist? I told her, that I didn’t want to call him a narcissist to just make myself feel better for being dumped. To which she responded: Okay, just because his behavior has a name we don’t have to use it.

I think we will get along just fine.

And so, the journey to get cape and fly continues… have a wonderful Thursday:)

xxx

 

 

 

Here we go

I have wanted to write a blog for a really long time. I have been afraid though. Afraid that it wouldn’t be funny, that no-one but my mother would read it, that I would win a blogging award and have to find an outfit for the show, yes this is how my brain works…

At the end of 2016 I decided to give it a go. Why the hell not? Now, I just needed a topic. It was around this time that I signed up on tinder in the hope of finding the love of my life – yes, I see the problem, love on tinder? And, while prince charming never arrived, what I did discover was endlessly good blog material. Seriously, strange messages and odd first dates – enough to make anyone laugh or cry depending. My creative juices were flowing, the pages were writing themselves. And then, I met the politician. And my blog, along with my brain it seems, flew out the window.

He was different though. A man who within four months totally swept me off my feet, proclaimed his undying love for me on date number three, asked me to move in with him on date number four (okay, to be fair, I was living with my mother at the time) and constantly told me how lucky he felt to be with me. He made me laugh and then he made me cry. He dumped me. Yip, in his words, ‘You just can’t make the heart feel what it doesn’t’. And that was that. I was out cold. Alison, my cat, and I were homeless and desperate, although if I am honest not totally surprised…we had found ourselves in similar situations before. My heart was broken. My fairytale, over, and prior to letting me collect my first box, we’re talking 24 hours people, said politician had reconnected with his ex.

I know that four months isn’t long, but I was happy, at least I thought I was. So this blog, if nothing else, is a symbol of my determination to ‘get cape, wear cape and fly.’ I don’t know how long it will take, but I am tired of making bad decisions and dating terrible men. I am lost and, who knows, maybe The Gold Bikini will help me find my way.