Adulting is a bowl of soup and I am a fork

Aiden and I currently live in an apartment building. On the first floor. We are thus surrounded by people.

There are people on either sides of us, people above us… we can hear EVERYTHING. And I mean E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G

Recently I have started to hear a baby cry at odd times during the nights. I have to say it’s not an annoying, ear piercing screech that wakes me up – I am a notoriously bad sleeper so I find myself awake plenty of times during the night, and then I hear the baby cry. The parents get up and either comfort, feed or change the baby and everyone goes back to sleep (except for me off course – fuck you insomnia), but as I am laying down in bed tonight, I heard the baby cry again, I hear the parents move, and within seconds, the Baby is quiet and comforted, and back to sleep… bare in mind it is now 23:40.

And it hits me…

We are all just little babies crying in the middle of the night. This baby clearly didn’t need a nappy change, nor did it need milk… it woke up and felt alone and needed to know that someone else was there. Someone was there that cared and would jump up and cuddle him or her, and reassure him/her (I feel bad constantly saying ‘it’, like he/she is an object without an identity), that they are not alone.

If I could, I would also start wailing at the top of my lungs when I wake up at 2:30 EVERY BLOODY MORNING, if it meant someone would come and hold my hand. But, alas, in the first place at some point we are taught that wailing at the top of your lungs at 2:30 is heavily frowned upon (by your parents especially) from a certain age, and in the second place, even if I didn’t mind waking the neighbors baby at that ungodly hour; nobody would come.

This is adulthood I suppose… we wake up at 2:30 desperately wanting to cry and scream because I just need someone to hold my hand or rub my back and tell me I am okay, I am not alone, it will be okay.

I also realized earlier today that I am strong. I am exceptionally strong. I don’t think though I was born this way, I was conditioned this way. It is an amazing feeling to know that I will never be defeated. But it is a soul destroying fact to know, that I can never be defeated. And this statement may sound profound to those who has not been forced by life to become indestructible, but I have realized that this makes me an incredibly difficult human being to be up against, and to tolerate and to love.

It’s a bittersweet fact of my life, this epiphany I have had about my greatest feat in life, that is also my biggest downfall.

I can’t be anything else though. I cannot pretend to be weak for I am not meak and mild even when I am broken – this is just who I am.

I can only trust that those who really do know me – and this meme jumps to mind:

really do see Me.

Life really is a bowl of soup, and I am a fork.

And what do I mean when I say that? All I mean is to say, that I really don’t know what the fuck I am doing.

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When daydreaming about wine almost cost me my life (not literally)

There’s never a dull moment in my life, and I swear 99% of the drama is caused by me!

I just left my laptop on the Gautrain. Not only have I not backed up (I know I know I don’t need anybody to point out to me the importance of backing up!) but I also had my favourite pair of platform heals in there! These shoes are so comfy and they add about 4 inches to my height… In the 5 miliseconds I realized I had left it on the train, I had about fourteen nervous breakdowns. I swear I saw my life flash before me. Four years of work on there and I think I may have back-upped once!

I will be honest, I forgot it because I was all ready mapping my route home towards the glorious bottle of red wine I was going to have while sitting on the couch, stuffing my face with crisps and binge watching some mindless series.

It has been a long week. A really good week, but a long week. I love our new practice! I may actually get a camping bed and just move in! It is so beautiful and I really urge all of you to come for a coffee (just watch this space till I announce that I have actually bought the new Nespresso as well)…

So back to the laptop, my life flashed before me and I swear I just lost nine years of my life.

But I want to give credit where credit is due and these guys at the Centurion Gautrain station were absolutely amazing! They got onto the radio immediately and they started looking for my ‘red-backpack-with-my-entire-life-packed-in-it’. My only frustration was waiting for the train to get back from Hatfield and I happily sat down in their airconned office, and waited the 15 minutes it took to get back.

So my story has a happy ending! Thanks to the friendly and helpful staff at the Gautrain station! The bag is back with everything intact – even my old worn favourite pair of heals!

Now… where is that red wine I was dreaming about…

Bent Heads

We really are a society of bent heads… I am standing on the Gautrain platform waiting for the train, and for a moment I looked up from sending messages, changing music, checking the time and how many steps I have taken today so far (oh, and pulling up my zipper as apparently I have been flashing everybody that had the misfortune of walking passed me this morning), and if it wouldn’t be so frowned upon, I’d have taken a pic of the people around me, but probably 95% of us, are on our phones.

So many missed opportunities of meeting new people, making friends, talking about the shitty government, the incredibly strange weather we’re having in Nov… We really do live in an overly dense population… completely alone.

One of the things I definitely have in common with the men I have met on Online Dating is, we’re all lonely.

And yet, here I stand, at this very moment surrounded by 5 men, every single one of us; on our phones.

Modern technology – it has become our greatest ally, and by far, our worst enemy.

Don’t get me wrong – I am just as much a slave to it as the next person. I have the phone, the watch, another watch, a tablet, the smart tv, the soundbar… I probably couldn’t live without it anymore.

But with all the comfort it provides, how much is it actually taking from us?

This train is choc-a-block and in almost a week, I have yet to say one word to another human being.  Today I actually made progress though as the guy standing next to  me practically had to stand right up in my face, and he had no choice but to make eye contact.  I smiled.  He looked totally baffled.  Oh well… I tried.  However the sad part is, he was actually quite attractive, and not wearing a wedding ring (I realize that doesn’t mean anything).  But, both of us wearing head/earphones, both of us reading on our phones… no room for even a curt ‘Hallo‘… arriving at the station the doors open, and we both head in different directions.  This is our lives these days.  Incredibly lonely while surrounded by hordes of people, all the time.

My job is in retail.  I am sat in some or the other mall, every single day.  I talk to hundreds of people, every day, and yet, I am alone when I go home.

 

NYNY

But!  I have decided I have felt sorry for myself for long enough.  I need to pull myself toward myself and let the past go now, and more forward.
A friend of mine actually said to me last week, to stop telling myself I am ‘getting through it’ and start telling myself I am moving forward.  So, I am moving forward.

As a side note, we have a new practice!  And I love it!  I have fallen totally in love with this place, so those of you in Gauteng, come have a look and pop in for a coffee:

Time for new beginnings…

Execuspecs The Marc

Is becoming a Bergie actually an option?

Today I feel like just packing up and giving in.  Actually I don’t even feel like packing up.  I just want to get into my car and drive off into the sunset (or sunshine seeing as we are in full on summer YAY!), until I run out of petrol (which won’t take too long as only the super rich and wealthy can still afford petroleum or diesel for their cars in this country these days.

I am sick of the city.  I am sick of the traffic, the memories, the dreadful rat race of getting up every morning, working, going home and repeat again tomorrow.  And while doing this start-stop-repeat routine, worrying about being too fat, too poor, too impatient, not pretty enough, definitely not successful enough and my biggest worry right now, a good enough mother?  I have always vowed to give my child everything I didn’t have, and now… Now I hear myself repeatedly telling him that we couldn’t do this, and no I can’t buy him that, because I simply cannot afford it.  His little face.  At 6 I can see him swallowing down his disappointment so he won’t have to disappoint me, by being disappointed. Am I really doing the best I can?  It doesn’t feel like I am.

So setting off into the sunset and just vanishing into nothingness feels like a good option right now.  I know, the best thing for my child, is to have his mother.  But this mother feels like she is not really getting a grip on this single mother thing at the moment.  My house is a mess, my fridge and food cupboards are empty (bar a bottle of coffee and some pasta) and to top things off, it’s his birthday next week.  I am dreading when he asks me what we will be doing for his birthday…

How the fuck did I end up here??  I feel like someone has punched me in the gut, constantly.  I am trying to just be better, feel better, get over it now… but it’s difficult to ignore this feeling of absolute failure.

I know, I whine too much, I probably also wine too much but I drink for the safety of others to be fair.

Perhaps I just need a holiday… a 6 month holiday with more money than water and more wine than money…

On-line dating – still not for the fainthearted

A few months ago I wrote about one of my on-line dating experiences, where the guy was a teetotaller because he was a recovering drug-addict.  I can’t remember if I mentioned that in fact, I had two of those dates… This horrifying experience of having to sit through a date where I am happily sipping away at my glass of Pinotage while he (in both cases) sips water, made me realise that I can never be with someone that doesn’t consume alcohol.  Yep, I know exactly how that sounds, and I don’t care.  But I will get back to that in a bit.

So I did actually meet a guy, who seemed really decent, he had a beer at dinner and a whisky after, good body, paying job and could actually hold a conversation.  His only downside (it seemed at the time) was that he lives in Jhb… I, as most of you know, reside in Centurion.  But seeing as I decided that it needn’t be a super serious thing from the get go, it didn’t matter.

So we had a few dates, got along, texted back and forth, and for a moment I thought it might turn into something.  I actually felt a bit of excitement brew in the pit of my stomach.  I mean it got to the point where he met me for coffee during lunch, at work.  Things were getting serious!  And it was at this lunchtime coffee, he made The Mistake.

 

So, if you’re going to lie to someone about who you are, you better damn well be sure, you can keep the lie up.  At all times.  Especially someone like me that has been reading murder mystery novels since, I don’t know, I was 2.  Okay I exaggerate, but I have been reading murder mystery for a very long time.  I also love CSI, this apparently makes you an expert on solving crime.

So at lunch, *Guy makes a phone call and as the person on the other end answers, he uses a different name.  Albeit a variation of the name he had given me, but not the same name.  Luckily I am the master of Poker Face, so very nonchalantly asked, after he ended the call, why he had introduced himself as a different person.  Now you would think he would be prepared for this question, with a well rehearsed answer, but instead he tells me, this is the name his company uses, for his emails?  I mean seriously WTF how fucking stupid do you think I am?

So coffee done I go back to the office, and the internet stalking commenced.  So Guy had given me a name and surname, and this name and surname had been appearing on my FB feed as someone I might know, so obviously I had clicked on it to see what his life is all about, but this profile had obviously only been created recently.  I am talking, days before we met up for the first time.  But nevermind though, I vaguely recalled him saying something about not being on social media… So this FB profile is naturally the first place I started my stalking.  There were only about 3 friends listed.  Two pics, and not much else.  In hindsight it did seem odd, but not too suspicious as I know of a couple of people who are not on social media (ex being one of them and he wasn’t hiding anything).  Anyway, so I searched and searched and searched the internet for some digital footprint of Guy… nothing.  Not one single reference to this person who he claimed to be.  So if my Spidey-senses were tingling before, they were now on fire like a blazing bonfire of suspicion.  Hours (I do work as well I swear) later, after discussing this at length with my mate Kevin, I finally had an idea as bright as the Star of David itself.  I googled his number.  I have only ever seen one phone so I was convinced he had only one number.  And wouldn’t you know it!  Voila!  I found him.  One tiny little advert he had placed many years ago, but there he was.  With his real name.  And I bet you all know where this story is going… Next stop, FB, and wouldn’t you know it… he has a wife.  And kids (I knew about them both but he told me was divorced).  Apparently not so much.  So the rest of the story is quite boring as, as you can imagine, I told him where to go.

Blazing bon fire

So in light of this experience. I decided that the Free-Bee dating site was probably the problem, and thus decided to join a paying site.  Ha!  Well… let me tell you… I think the on-line dating platform should be renamed to:  “Place for broken people to hook-up”  It was dismal.  And yes I know, I was on there too…  Maybe I am just too full of crap but I can’t help if I have standards…

(I just feel I have to mention that I did meet one person that is not totally broken (and yes I say totally broken because let’s face it, at this age we’re at, we’re all a little broken in some way or the other) and because this is my life and things can never not be complicated, he lives miles and miles and miles… and then some more miles, away)

So the search continues.  And yes, search it is…  I am tired of telling myself and hearing, it will happen when you stop looking.  I read this blog the other day, that talked about how nothing worth it in life, comes easy.  So why do we have to believe, that the right person will just fall into your lap?  I like that way of thinking…

Getting back to me not caring how it sounds when I say that if you don’t drink alcohol, I don’t, or can’t actually, date you.  I know what I want… I perhaps know too well what I want but I can’t imagine a life of feeling guilty everytime I open a bottle of wine… and finishing the bottle of wine in one go, and that would ultimately be the result of a life with someone that doesn’t drink.  Constant feelings of guilt of consuming litres and litres of wine, while he sits there, sipping water.  And this pic jumps to mind now:

You don't need alcohol to have fun

So yes, I know what I want, and wine consumption is a basic condition of employment when it comes to dating me.  And no smoking… yep, I have also realised that the smoking thing just doesn’t work for me.  I can almost hear everyone go:  And you wonder why you’re single?  Indeed Good People of the Internet… Indeed.

 

 

I hate Mondays

I really hate Mondays… I don’t mean like how we joke about it at the end of the weekend and the beginning of another week, how Monday mornings feel like four years stretching out ahead of you until we reach Friday again…

I mean, I loathe Mondays.  For some reason Mondays just seem to intensify my feeling of loss and emptiness.  I realise Mondays somehow highlights my failures, and disappointments in life.  I cannot pinpoint exactly why this is – but it is.

This morning I was lying here after some meditation sessions, and I did a brilliant guided session by Steve Tyler (yes, really, that’s his name, obviously not THE Steve Tyler) on detachment, and I had an epiphany:  I feel like a massive failure because I feel like I shouldn’t have failed to begin with.  How profound is that?

It reminds me of this Christina Perri song:

Christina Perri – Human

We’re all only Human – failure is a part of life.  This brings me to that one meme I have seen a couple of times over recent weeks (and even quoted it to my friend, Chantell, yesterday):

Either it will work or it wont

This is so true… and it reminds me that it is okay to fail… at least failure means you were brave enough to try!

I obviously started working on this blog on Monday (it is now Wednesday) but I felt the need to continue the thread.  Mostly because of what day it was yesterday.

This is a tough week for my siblings and I, well it is for me.  I assume it is for them as well because our Dad passed away on 28 Aug (many years ago).  But for some reason the four of us seem to have this silent pledge to never discuss it.  Almost like if we don’t breathe life into it again, it won’t be real… The worst part is, it will always be real and as time goes on, I find this day more and more sad…  I reflect on all the things I would have liked to have shared with him, but will never be able to.  Then on my way to work yesterday (after being stuck in traffic with my self deprecating thoughts and a Spotify that insisted on playing really sad music) it all came down crashing onto me.  This year has been seriously fucked-up and I need to be done with 2018!

My next blog will be much happier, I promise.  Aug just needs to fuck off now and make room for Spring!

Dating in your 30’s… not for the faint hearted

I feel like I should write something funny for a change… the last few posts have been… perhaps a little bit morbid… to say the least.

So now I am trying to think of something funny/amusing to write about… How can I brighten somebody’s day today, by saying something witty and entertaining?

My brain appears to have come to a halt…  The funny  has been morbidded out of me!  HELP!  This is not me.

The dating scene… I think this is quite an amusing topic when you get to my age… Urrrgghhh MY AGE… Like I am ancient…  But there’s no getting around it, dating in your ‘late’ 30’s (SOMEBODY KILL ME) is like that meme:

Dating in your 30s

So I have been on a couple of dates in recent weeks… I decided we have to accept the hand that we’ve been dealt, and seeing as I am single at the moment, I will embrace this new singleness, and see if there are still any decent people (and please take note, I say people for a reason – I have come to realise, that men are not solely shit, women can be just as shit and we share in this title equally), left out there…

I am still hopeful, albeit incredibly cynical, but I am still hopeful.  I look at it like this:  I am still (or again) out there, and I consider myself a decent enough human being.  I have a job, I have at least three brain cells left (and apparently it is a myth that alcohol kills brain cells, so I get to keep the three I have and continue my wine consumption without concern of becoming dumber… fatter perhaps, but luckily not dumber!), I am a caring person, I go to gym, I don’t smoke… (Okay okay I realise I am not currently writing a bio for a dating site).  The only thing I really don’t have, is money.  But at this stage I think that statement applies to most of us in SA… the petrol price alone is enough to render anybody’s bank account a beautiful, round zero, by the 8th of the month.

But you get it, I really think that I have at least a few attributes to offer someone, and I cannot be the last one left out there.

So here I am, back on the dating scene, at the age of 37 (again, someone kill me please, I thought I was done with this!) and so far, it has been dire!  It seems my generation is weeded with either druggies, or ex-druggies… Which either means you want to smoke weed on my balcony (Sorry that I frown upon this, I have a 5 year old roaming around my house), or, even worse, DO NOT DRINK AT ALL!!

Don't trust people who don't drink

So the first guy I went out with was a complete drug-addict…  I strongly believe in ‘each to their own’, so if that rocks your boat, by all means, but it is just not my scene.

Second guy, a recovering coke addict, which meant no substances at all!  Here I am drinking from my bottle of wine I ordered before he got there, and he is sipping water!  In hindsight though I suppose it wasn’t a bad thing in the end, I got pulled over by the cops on my way home, and breathalysed under the limit seeing as his tee-totalling prevented me from drinking too much, his coffee made me want a coffee, and I drank water to avoid making an idiot of myself.  Most terrifying experience of my life though!  Being pulled over by the cops and being convinced I was going to test over the limit, from my understanding anything more than 2 glasses is too much, and I had at least 3… Thank you coffee, thank you water!

Anyway, so thus far my experiences have been less than inspiring.  Yet I have to believe that there has to be at least one person out there that is not married all ready and lying about who he is (yep – I will keep this funny story for next time), not addicted to any form of narcotic, not a narcissist, has an actual job and doesn’t still live with his parents at 42, shorter than me (if this makes me sound shallow, then so be it, but I love wearing heels too much), fun-loving human being, that actually exists.

 

At this stage only time will tell…  I shall keep you posted.