I cried today. I hate crying, confrontations make me cringe, I crave security and I have been so unhappy lately I’ve been ill.
My boyfriend was around for five weeks. I needed a couple of days to adjust to him, to us, to myself around him. It was great, it sucked, we settled down eventually. We talked. He listened. I listened. He left. I hadn’t seen him for two years and five weeks were not enough.
I started a new job late last year. Initially as a consultant, then on a more permanent basis. Probation ended on the 14th of January, but as centre manager of a business centre offering furnished office space and meeting rooms for hire, I am yet to sign up a single client. I talk about the centre every chance I get, yet here I am. Last week I had fever, before that was a stream of flus, and early this week it was diarrhoea. Graphic, yes, but here I am. My stomach hurts. I almost got ulcers once.
So I met this great motivational speaker and business growth mentor who broke me down. Two weeks ago, the director of my marketing group visited my centre and pointed out my passion as nutrition. He said, about the office manager post I’ve held proudly for four months, “This is your job. Nutrition is your true passion.” I was able to fight my tears then. Not so today.
James Karundu calls my new rabbit business and fixation on medical school “bright shiny objects”. I spent almost 2,000 € on that said farming project so as to build an extra income stream. So I had money when I started my masters program. So I would have a fallback plan for when I’d run out of luck at my new job. Not that I believe in luck, but I resigned from a reception position with a blurry job description, and felt miserably lost for the two months I was finally free to have three solid meals daily and sleep in. Yet I was unhappy.
I cried today when a stranger with the just-right thing to say asked me what I wanted. When he told me to breathe in and out I felt relaxed for the first time since December, 2013. I had a great time meeting my prospective in-laws, visiting warm I had never met who made me feel at home, people who fed me and asked me to stay the night even though language was often a visible elephant of a barrier. I had personal stories shared, pictures taken, laughter making rounds, and lots of love and warmth. Then I bid the love of my life goodbye, went on to discover my rabbit house was poorly done, and started paying rent and covering other house bills including water, garbage, electricity, toiletry and food.
So that’s the real story of my life and from where I’m seated about to bank more savings in case it all goes to the toilet sooner than later, listening to Michael Bublé only helps a little. Maybe I should start reading Joyce Meyer in the morning.
Cheers to the wacky Wednesday burger offer I’m choosing to miss for pizza later in the month. Because life is truly beautiful, anyway.