Grabbing a coffee

This is me, tired little me, drinking coffee from the cup that my kind colleague got me for my birthday last week, whilst travelling on the train to face another exciting day at work. 

In real life I am wearing the same kind of loopy, at the end of my tether expression. It’s been a long week, in fact it’s been a long two months but hopefully there is hope on the horizon. 

I’ve been working extra hours and weekends to try and keep up with work since my colleague left in April. If you didn’t notice that I wasn’t around as much don’t worry, just lament the fact that you didn’t enjoy the peace and quiet while you had the chance. 

There’s been few days off apart from the two when we went to Donegal and one that replaced a lost weekend day and it’s starting to tell on both me and my house which hasn’t been getting the love and attention it deserves. 

This weekend is going to be another hectic one sadly, so in fact there most likely won’t be a weekend at all as I have to attend things planned each day that will most likely extend into the night. I’m going to struggle, firstly because I am going to have to people, but secondly because I’m going to get no down time and no time to unwind. 

I would just love one weekend of peace and quiet, just me, where I don’t have to do anything for anyone else and that includes cooking and cleaning! 

Monday my new colleague arrives, so that in itself is going to bring another set of challenges, like training and learning and sorting. She’s a lovely girl and I instantly liked her so that’s a positive, but I need to shield  her from being bombarded until she gets to grips with things. I don’t want her running for the hills on the first day. 

I’m nervous because it’s been so long since I trained anyone for anything. I’m not very good at taking charge, I’m more of a sheep than a shepherd, so it will be a learning curve for us both. 

No one likes change, but it still comes whether we like it or not. I’m trying to think ahead and console meself that there may be stability in my future, and days off. Days off would be lovely.

I just need to make it through the next few weeks. 

How have things been in your world?

The Devil made me do it!

Of late I’ve been picking random posts of my site to read. Mainly because I want to see if my writing has improved any at all. I used to love the What If? Challenge and tried to come up with something fun and quirky each week. This was one of my favourites, so in a fit of nostalgia, I am going to repost it.

I left the original details in so you get the idea what the challenge was. This was written in 2013, I wish my little brain could still think like this!


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This weeks Whatif? Challenge

What if you let your dark side take over?

An unfortunate event has allowed the Devil to own your soul. He has decided to give you a chance to get it back but to win it you must bring a smile to the Devil’s face with your actions. He allows you to have one full day in which you can do anything your heart desires without fear of consequences, retaliation, retribution or prosecution.

An unusual turn of events indeed. I have been pondering this one for a few days, well since Sunday, when the challenge went up. No one willingly wishes to court the Devil, so the conundrum is, how best to tackle this unfortunate event and in fact turn it to your advantage.

The Devil dislikes my body, he has no option but to use it as a host, so will spend endless hours fashioning it into a more visually pleasing and competent, super human vessel. Even without the option of choice, I will secretly marvel at my new svelte frame and flowing strawberry blond (gingerish) locks, some things it seems just cannot be amended. From the array of clothes that my new figure opens the opportunity of, I will select a black all in one jumpsuit, that clings to every curve and makes both womens and men’s heads turn. “Who are you?” they will say, awed by my presence and I shall reply, “I am the Ginga Ninja, remember my name, for it will be the ruination of many.”

Black Widow

The Devil turns his gaze from me, just for a few minutes. It seems his addiction to Starbucks coffee is just the same as any mortals. His lapse in concentration affords me the chance to substitute the list of victims he has provided, with my own.

He bids me farewell, a wry smile on his face.  It would appear he does indeed derive great pleasure from a soul in torment. I have 3 hours in which to perform 3 kills, if I am to make the Devil smile and regain my soul.

11.59 am

I slip into an apartment block just west of Sudsly Avenue. It is run down and dingy. Rats scuttle at my feet as I read the names on the mail boxes. Smiling, I mentally note the number and proceed to climb the stairs, mumbling about the fact that his nibs did not consider flying as an option, when it could have been so helpful. Stubborn bloody man.

Two henchmen guard the door, but they are no match for the Ginga Ninja and I quickly dispense of them and hide their bodies in the broom cupboard, giggling to myself about the cliché of it all.

True to his form, Bubbles the Beast McGinn is in the bath. It takes him a minute to realise I am there. “My boss sent me” I say. I am instantly recognizable as soulless, so I am not surprised by the look of shock on his face as I push his head below the water, holding it there until the beast bubbles no more.

12.45 pm

Lunchtime – Kentucky Fried Chicken for a Boneless Banquet for One – Gravy as the side. What ffs??? A girls gotta eat. This assassination lark is not easy and besides my feet are killing me in these high heeled boots!

2.30 pm

Destination downtown Dumpsville. A laundromat on the corner of Persil Place. The sign in the window asks for young female workers, promising good benefits and competitive rates of pay. Rita the Rinser has been using the same ploy for years to lull young girls into her lair. She promises them the earth before she drugs them and sells them on as either prostitutes or slaves. I spy her loading washing into a huge clanking machine and quick as lightening I am behind her. Again she can sense I am soulless and visibly relaxes, that is until I whisper in her ear, “My boss sent me” and push her headlong into the machine, setting it for boil wash.

3.05 pm

A quick call into Manicures for the Mighty. I need to look in pristine condition for my next job, the last on my list.

3.45 pm

A prestigious fashion house. In full stealth mode I hitch a ride to the top floor hidden in a rack of clothes. I see my prey hunched over, pencil in hand, sketching out the new seasons trends. Saying not a single word I snap his neck like a twig.

4.15 pm

Grabbing a Starbucks I head back to ‘Satan’s Shack’ a prestigious gambling establishment I know he with the horns frequents. Sure enough, there he is surrounded by women and being fawned over by men. I step forward and offer the Starbucks.

Me: “I’m all finished, can I have my soul back please?”

Devil: “Why would you even ask such a stupid question, you have just killed two of my most loyal staff members, how could you ever imagine this would please me.”

Me: “I thought you knew everything ffs. Every night those two pray to God to forgive them for theirs sins. Every night their excuse is the same, ‘the devil made me do it’. In the end they were going to be detrimental to your business, and besides you’re going to save a fecking fortune on bubbles and soap powder.”

Devil: (sniggers) “Dam, you made me laugh, and by the terms of our agreement I must give you back your soul. Get out of my sight, I never wish to lay eyes on you again.”

Me: “Suits me. Any chance I can keep the body till the morning though?”

Devil: “GET OUT!!”

I figure my svelte figure could disappear at any second, so I decide to make as much as I can of the little time I have left and head to my local pub ‘The Pearly Gates’. Peter my favourite barman is on and after greeting me with a smile he pushes a pint of water across the bar to me.

Peter: “Busy day huh?”

Me: “Sure was. Is the boss happy?”

Peter: “Delighted, he’s been after those two for a while, however he did mention the fact that you deviated from the original plan and added in an extra assassination. There were only meant to be two.”

Me: “Yeah I know,”

Peter: “So enlighten me. The first two I can understand, but the third one has left me a little confused as well.”

Me: (shrugs shoulders) It was just for fun, and pretty simple really, the devil wears Prada.

 

 

Self confidence or arrogance? 

I have no self confidence. 

Some of my work colleagues would probably not believe you if you told them this fact about me. Others who work with me closely are all to aware.

One of my hopes when I attended counselling was that I would be able to have a better understanding of myself and my lack of self confidence. In some ways I did, but I am in no way cured and every day is a battle that sometimes I’m just to tired to fight.

I will continue to try and see myself in a more positive light, but if I do, I want to make sure I am careful of this new responsibility, because I am genuinely curious as to when self confidence becomes arrogance, or even if it does at all.

I’m never going to be one of those people who walks into a party straight to the centre. I’m more of a sneak in and skirt along the sidelines until I find a group of people I feel comfortable with type of person. That kind of confidence I would love, the ability to walk into a room and not feel like every head has turned to scrutinise me.

Now please don’t think I’m being judgemental, because I am honestly not, it’s just that by not having any, I simply don’t understand how the concept of self confidence works and I am genuinely curious.

For example, if I sent you a picture of myself with the caption ‘Look at me, am I not just the most amazing person you have ever seen’, would you class that as self confidence or arrogance?

Just for the record, I’m not ever likely to utter a sentence like that, and if I ever did, I would fully expect you to give me a clip round the ear and ask me who the hell I thought was.

Or if I sent you a picture with the caption ‘I’m gorgeous aren’t I, I bet you wish you could be me.’ Is that self confidence or arrogance?

I read things sometimes and depending on my mood I either think, wow I wish I was brave enough to make a statement like that, or I think, seriously dude, did you just say that.

I do get there is a wider debate around this topic, because more than looks will make a person awesome. I mean I’m ugly as sin, but I make you chuckle sometimes, right!?!?

I’ve had little experience of online dating, mainly because any time I gave it a try it turned into a disaster, but if the intended object of your affection came out with statements like the above, would you give them a chance or skip on by?

I’m genuinely interested to hear your views, or to have you correct me if I’m barking up the wrong tree.

P.s I am NOT online dating, I’m only using it as an example :) I’ve enough feckin trouble lookin after the Fathership!

P.p.s I have never said what I used as my two examples, but they are messages that have been sent to me!

Weekend Wonderings

I seem to go through little periods of thinking. I shouldn’t think, it’s bad for me.

Every now and then I will question my need for this blog or where I fit into the so called blogsphere. I don’t have a niche as such, I’m more a bits and pieces of everything.

When starting I suppose my intention was to be a humour blog, but then life changed and all the humour kinda got sucked out of it and me. I’d still like to think I am marginally funny, or at least working my way back to that point. But as a wise man once said, self praise is no recommendation.

I think I have changed since I started writing way back in 2013, I’m not sure if it is for the better. Somewhere along the line while looking for someone to adult I realised that it was actually me, I was supposed to be the adult, well that was a steep learning curve I tell ya. Someone needs to write one of those yellow books entitled ‘The Idiots Guide to Adulting’. I could certainly have made use of it.

I did grow up, I dealt with seriously injuring my leg, which led to my first ever surgery, followed by becoming  a carer, followed by perhaps a little depression and a whole host of anxiety from these past events. Through counselling I realised I was an introvert and that I more than likely have mild social anxiety issues. People keep telling me I need to push through and force myself to do more, but for me that’s like standing at the edge of a boiling cauldron with everyone urging me to jump. Why can it not be enough for people that I am trying!

What does that mean for this blog, does it mean that I have outgrown it and is it time to give up and move on, or does it mean that I just let it evolve with me and see where the journey takes us both.

I want people to read what I write because they are genuinely interested in what I have to say. But I also want them to understand that I am geeky and awkward and not always sure of how to reply to the awesome comments that are left.  I want to write whatever my wonky little brain desires without people worrying I am going to fall off the edge of the earth.

I’ve been enjoying doing some of the fiction challenges, they make me think, but in a good way. They challenge me to hone my writing skills and they give me something else to focus on other than the inside of this rut I seem to find myself in.

When do you realise that enough is enough? When do you realise that it is time to move on, or when do you stop building barriers for yourself and just get on with the job at hand. I tell myself that likes and follows don’t matter and I mean that, but the interaction does. I love this community and I would miss it.

So I stay, but I don’t really evolve. I wonder if six months down the line people would even remember who I was. Perhaps they would say, you must remember her, you know, the weird girl from Ireland with the ginger hair. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t find that offensive, I quite like being weird :)

Perhaps one day I will eventually figure out who I am. Then I can figure out what here is. And we can all live happily ever after.

Until then I guess I just continue to be happy, be weird and be an eejit!

My Way – FFF42

 

From the shadows she watched him play, his fingers caressing the piano keys, his voice caressing her heart.

She could still feel the pull of him, even after all this time. There was no denying she still loved him. 

It was comical that this was his favourite song. She was sure he had more than a few regrets and he had certainly done things his way. 

As the song ended and the audience applauded she stepped out of the dark. 

‘Remember darling, that when the end came I did it my way’ she said placing divorce papers on the piano. 

 


This is my entry for this weeks Flash Fiction hosted by Matt the Book Blogger. If you would like to give this a try, you can find all the information for this weeks challenge HERE.

More general information about the challenge can be found on his Flash Fiction Foray page.

Spot on 100 words, but it took a bit of effort!

I’m off to read the other entries now! I don’t like to until my own is finished!

Happy Sunday folks :)

 

Every Breath You Take – FFF41

 

Casey moved like her life depended on it, and it did. 

Every step was important and had to be carefully planned as she twisted and turned in time to the music. 

Her red dress floated around her form a gruesome gift from the one who watched as she pirouetted on the tips of her bright red ballet shoes. 

She couldn’t stop the tears that raked the mascara down her face. The audience however were in awe of the drama in the performance. 

Little did they know.

This certainly put a new slant on the old saying ‘Dancing with the Devil’

 


For this weeks Flash Fiction I think you might need to listen to the tune while reading. For a long time I wasn’t sure where I was going with this and then I got my idea. While listening to the music I could envisage the drama and deliberate movement that this edgier version of a well known tune would evoke from a dancer, especially if their life were to depend on it. My devious little mind always seems to go dark on these forays.

I’m liking this challenge and will try to take part when time allows. If you would also like to give it a try, then you can find the information for this weeks challenge HERE.

Dear Mum, it’s May

Image by Michael Gaida

Dear Mum,

I’m sure you already know as I imagine you are keeping an eye on me from up above, but I’m tidying the house again. There is still so much to be done and not enough hours in the weekend, which is my only time to get things done.

I’m battling another headache, same as last week. Is it something about weekends or I just am heading towards the menopause a little faster than I hoped and migraines are collateral damage. It might be stress too, there have been a lot more changes in work. Perhaps it’s time time to read the handout my counsellor gave me.

I was folding some of your clothes today for the charity shop and I was thinking how happy you would be that someone was going to be able to make use of your summer skirts and tops now that we have been blessed with some sunshine. I was sad too when I lifted your cardigan and I could smell your perfume. It reminded me of the nights you used to go out, I loved walking up the stairs after you had left and smelling your perfume, a reminder that you had been there. I did worry that once I have finished this mammoth task of putting the house in order that apart from your photographs there would be very few reminders, but the reality is you are everywhere, especially in my heart.

I miss you. At one time I wasn’t sure I would, the last couple of years had been so intense that I thought perhaps I would feel nothing but relief, and I did, but I also felt the loss.

You’re always in my thoughts, but at night I smile and think about you when I brush my teeth, because you used to stick your tongue out at me when I tried to brush yours.

I’m writing because when I looked out at the garden I realised how happy you would have been to see it today. Dad mowed the lawn which is actually a decent shade of green for a change. You wouldn’t care much for the lawn though would you, you’d be more excited about the little cluster of primroses and you’d be walking after him telling he better not mow them down. Don’t worry, he was obviously thinking of you too, because he carefully manoeuvred around them.  Then you’d admire the carpet of Bluebells that through your haphazard planting now cover about 60 percent of the top half of the garden. Today I have to agree as I look out into the sunshine, they do look rather awesome.

Don’t worry about me, I’m good and still taking comfort in the fact that you’re in a better place and no longer suffering. I just wanted to let you know about the Bluebells because I wish you could see them too.

Love

Me :) x

 


A couple of weeks ago another blogger Holly shared a post and in it she talked about a song from Ed Sheeran called Supermarket Flowers. I can’t now listen to it without thinking about my Mum, such a poignant tune. Thank you Holly for sharing it in the first place.

Everything works out in the end – FFF39

There’s light above me, but even though I reach out I cannot touch it. 

Sun rays penetrate the water and under any other circumstances I would admire their beauty. 

I feel weightless, yet I continue to sink, the story of my life surrounding me, notebooks, photographs and letters, everything documented, but never to be seen. 

Before all this happened, when you still loved me, you would have told me everything works out in the end. 

Not this time I think to myself as I look down at the concrete boots you have fastened around my feet. 

This is my end. 


Love the song choice this week from Matt over at The Book Blogger for this weeks Flash Fiction Foray. I’m really enjoying these challenges, I love just listening to the music and seeing where it takes me. It might help  too, if you listened to the song while reading, you might understand better where my wonky little mind was wandering to.

This week after a little tweaking I think I once again came in on 100 words. 

If you would like to try this for yourself, you can find all the information in relation to this weeks challenge HERE

For more information about the Flash Fiction Foray event itself, click HERE

 

 

What The F*** Twenty One Pilots?

How did I miss Twenty One Pilots?

Talk About Pop Music

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Twenty One Pilots

Sometimes I can’t actually believe that I have made it through my life without having heard a particular song, or of a particular song.

Such was the case with Twenty One Pilots and their song ‘Stressed Out’. It ended up on my Spotify playlist, I have no idea how, but I’m thinking perhaps it was divine intervention, I LOVE this song.

It’s laid back tempo, beats and catchy tune just became ingrained in my brain. So much so I got some funny looks on the train platform one night. Forgetting where I was I started to belt out the chorus….well I was stressed out.

I was intrigued and decided to check out some of their other tunes on Spotify, and what a good decision that was. This band who originated from Columbus, Ohio way back in 2009 have a discography of music that literally has a little something…

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