I’m blogging which means I’m either rambling about music or I have something to moan about. Yay.
I have an almost instinctive urge to write when I feel strongly about something or when life is taking a detour down the road to Crapsville rather than to the Town of Raining Marshmallows. Flick through my diary; it’s all neurotic wallowing, you’ll scarcely find anything positive in there. When you’re happy you’re living in the moment; depressed, you’re re-living the moment. Hey, it worked for Adele. Though I don’t think my diary/blog is quite on par with the Grammy award winner..
This week’s been really shit. It seems that God, should he exist, is relentlessly determined to test me by ruining every work experience placement I get. Last time it was fleas, this time I’ve managed to get really sick a week before my placement; it’s already Thursday and I feel absolutely dreadful. Monday night I got no sleep, Tuesday morning I was sick three times, I ate nothing until Wednesday evening and last night also barely slept which was torturous. Today I’ve eaten one crumpet.
Other negatives: I missed work Tuesday, will also be missing work tomorrow and probably Saturday too. That’s 22 hours wages lost, not to mention the fact I won’t be earning a penny next week as I will be on my placement.
At the moment I’m praying the hostel dorm I’m staying in isn’t full of drug addicts or people with a penchant for one-night stands, either that or that they don’t attack me with the minimal furnishings in the room because my hacking cough is keeping them up all night.
On top of that I booked my train tickets and there were no seats available on Sunday during the journey from St Austell to London (damn Cornwall and it’s appeal to city dwellers). The last time I got an afternoon train on a Sunday to Plymouth there were people standing in the aisles.
In my state, if I have to stand I might punch somebody.
So it’s all bloody doom and gloom. Most of all I’m just worried I’m not going to be on top form during my placement because I’m not well.
You try to tell yourself it will be all right but I was born a pessimist and a compulsive worrier. And this is my problem.
I am so negative. I joke about things, I wear a smile on my face to work. To most I am a bubbly, slightly odd person (don’t know where I get that title) but for those unfortunate enough to see my insecure side, when I’m not happy I am horribly depressing.
I focus on other people to distract myself from my own life and the things that I don’t like about it, but it’s a temporary fix. It’s ridiculous. I don’t know why I do it, it’s like I’m bent on making my life harder for myself.
Today I had a revelation (well.. perhaps that’s going a bit far), today I had a think, a lovely little think and I decided that my attitude is crap and that I’m a coward. And that no matter how much it kills me I am going to be more positive.
How hard can it be?
I’m going to start with my Channel 4 work experience which is going to be great! And everyone is going to love me!
Confidence and arrogance; fine line?
But seriously, sometimes things happen that force you to take a look at yourself and realise that you’re fuelling all your energies into the wrong things. I fuel all my energy into telling myself I suck. Where is that going to get me? There’s simply a consensus in our house that everything is too difficult and that anything remotely challenging is not worth doing because you’ve not got a chance in hell. Nothing would give me greater satisfaction than to prove everybody wrong. And so far I’m going the completely wrong way about it.
It’s time to get the big guns out and start believing in myself and putting less pressure on myself.
And it’s time to stop posting blogs before I’ve finished them. Honestly OK, I’m done now.