When 2020 decided to kick me in the vadge.

I’m so ranty today. So angry and frustrated. Worried and anxious all in one. Im sat at my computer waiting for Boris Johnson to release his bowels on us once more at 8pm. One minute we are all “eating out to help out”..the next.. NO more than 6 people in one space! Except work…and the pub.

The world is going mad and so are the people in it. My own personal mental wellbeing has been pretty fair and stable for some time now. Definitely figured out the best medication/vitamin concoction that works for me and also how much sleep I need but one thing that keeps niggling at me is the fucking uncertainty in everything. Like for example, imagine being pregnant in the current climate, what kind of world are we bringing these kids into (alone, may I add as apparently fathers are way more dangerous to the pandemic attending appointments with you than Billy bob down the pub who licks the windows.) its insane.

My job is currently a shower of shit. Travel is getting hit HARD by all this and all we can do is sit by (often colouring whilst waiting for customers to step foot in the shop) and watch the situation snowball.

Today has been shit. I always try my best to think of the positives I can take from each day and of course I have the usual gratitude’s such as my health and my daughter but what I’m struggling with is the mantra I have always sworn by. EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON. because does it?

I guess tomorrow is another day, another day in 2020 modern England. Put on your happy faces guys.

The highs and lows of returning to the workplace after six WHOLE months off.

The week I had been dreading was almost here. The Sunday night palpitations were setting in as I sat and stuffed my face with any chocolaty treats I could get my hands on to distract myself from impending doom. I laid awake a lot of the night tossing and turning with visons of angry customers queuing a the door, banging to get in! wiping coronavirus hands all over the window front and throwing insults at us…

The reality was obviously NOT this at all but my brain does like to be dramatic.

I work in a well know UK travel store you see and let’s be honest. 2020 has not been kind to travel so far, far from it. We were closed for months meaning the initial bedlam of cancelled holidays bypassed us personally (luckily) however, the shower of shit was waiting for us on our return. Mainly in a pile of letters and abusive notes posted through the door, most dating way back in April. Poor people who had no clue what to do and nowhere to vent their frustrations posted almost ‘dear diary’ type notes through the door begging us to get their holiday sorted immediately! Look, I’m sorry Mrs. Jones but we can’t just magic a boeing 747 down to Donny airport just for you to not miss your annual trip to Benidorm to get pissed up with ya gal pals now can we. Seriously.

My first couple of days consisted of staring at my boss trying my very hardest to listen to my essentially new job role of ‘saving the sale’, encouraging people to amend instead of cancel upcoming holidays and helping to keep the company out of the shit. I tried my best to listen I really did but after approximately 1.5 hours of it I realised my face resembled that of the stupid seal from Finding Dory. Vacant. Bewildered. Dumb.

The other side of all this of course is that I’m feeling excited to be around people (colleagues, not customers obvs) again. I’ve missed my work gang and the normal talk of how much we hate customers and anything at all sex related. you know, all that mature stuff. That kind of stuff is good for the soul. Remembering who you are and not just being “mum” I don’t work many hours but its enough to keep me sane (ish) Although I’ve absolutely loved being off work and was dreading every aspect of going back originally. I’m so glad I’m starting to get ‘back to normal’

People I’ve spoken to are saying we should all expect a second wave in the winter. What do you all think?

I vote Furlough 4 life.

I’m a little unsure what’s quite wrong at the moment. I don’t have much to report.

Furloughed, spending heaps of time at home and getting paid for it. Win win right?

Hmm I’m not so sure anymore. I think one thing I’ve always needed is to feel like I have a purpose and whilst being a mum is one of life’s greatest gifts I do tend to have a habit of spending too much time in my head if I don’t occupy it. I’ve fallen into a comfortable way of life where there isn’t a rush to do anything and things can always wait until tomorrow. When I do go out I’ve started becoming anxious and wanting to get back to my safe little “bubble” again so I can eat cake.

I can relate.

I remember being like this a few years ago and whilst it felt nice to not feel obliged to be in contact with the outside world I’m well aware that the long term consequences do in no way benefit me. I’m now petrified of being asked to go back to work and the reasons are NOT pandemic related. Its having the pressure on again and having to be nice to be people! May I just add, my job will in no way, shape or form be easy when and even if, I do go back. Customer complaints and problem solving on a daily basis all whilst going back to juggling mum hood and home-life alongside the little mental health issue.

Most the people I know have now gone back to work or are due to do so in the next couple of weeks. Me on the other hand…well I’m still waiting and that’s almost worse! I know I’m lucky right now to live in the UK and receive payment for not working as I know not everybody is so lucky however I cant help feeling like I’d do anything not to return back now! And this was one of the many jobs I’ve had in the past where I’ve actually made an effort to get it! The travel industry is not easy guys!

I need to overcome this or I can see myself falling into a little pit of despair but I’m unsure how to begin. I like being anti social, I like being that flakey friend nobody relies on. I like being….lost.

Just an observation in regards to mandatory facemasks in UK from 24th July.

Pretty much exactly the same as taking somebody a pack of condoms to their baby shower isn’t it. Well done England. You did it again.

Happy groundhog day!

On Saturday the 21st of March I went to work like everybody else who works Travel/Retail/Any other customer service type role. “Right then, what arseholes am I going to have to deal with today” you know the attitude. That one that when you started the job you couldn’t wait to get stuck in making dreams come true , and now, a couple of years down the line the phrase “I’m just wanting to go somewhere hot, not sure where but it needs to be cheap” makes your face contort the same way it would  if somebody were to come up to you and expel a fart in your vicinity.

Don’t get me wrong, my job is different every day and the team I work with well, there fucking awesome but little did I know that day when I finished my shift at 3pm that it would be the last time I saw the place until…well who knows right? In hindsight, if I were to relive that day knowing what I know now I would have rode horseback William Wallace style through town shouting about freedom and drinking gin. Not clock watching waiting to go home.. Which is where I’ve been ever since.

Life’s challenges have changed somewhat. At the beginning I could not believe my luck! No work?! Time at home to catch up on housework and maybe even re wallpaper the huge fireplace shaped empty patch on the living room wall where my other half thought it would be a great idea to move the room round a little? This is kind of exciting! And then I remembered that I was a parent, to a 4 year old. A 4 year old with sass.

It started well. The daily itinerary went like this –

  • A rude awakening at approx. 7am from Child where I promise I’ll be up in one minute if she plays nicely in her room.
  • Joe Wicks workout promptly at 9am
  • Snack
  • Spellings and numbers.
  • Snack
  • Crafty fun
  • Snack
  • Lunch
  • Dog Walk for the allotted 1 hour time frame.
  • “Quiet time” (with snack) most popular choice for freetime was the tablet where I learnt that horrid Henry really is a Horrid little shit.
  • Daddy gets home resulting in very over excitable and giddy child before bed.
  • Tea
  • Bed for child, 1 sly cigarette and gin and tonic at the bottom of the garden for me.

New Daily itinerary

  • A rude awakening at approx. 7am from Child where I promise I’ll be up in one minute if she plays nicely in her room. (28 minutes later, I’m still scrolling through Facebook with one eye open)
  •  “Quiet time” with breakfast in bed.
  • Snack
  • Argue with Child about the amount of outfits she has already worn in the hour we have been awake. Child will now only reply to the name Elsa.
  • Snack
  • Tidy up Elsa’s bedroom, hide the clothes.
  • Lunch
  • Dog walk to any location that child can run freely so I don’t have to look after  worry too much.
  • Stare at Wall where the wallpapering never got done whilst eating snack.
  • Daddy comes home and mentions I might like to take up running?
  • Tea
  • Bed for Child, 16 cigarettes openly smoked near the back door so other half can see that I’m stressed and two Jager bombs.

And just for those wondering, which your probably not, The roll of wallpaper still sits behind the door.