cybermule: (Default)
Forgot this one in the general rush to get it actually read in time for book club. I first read it a while after it came out. I'm starting to realise that Myers-Briggsing as an introvert (*) isn't good for prompt receipt of new and interesting books, and by the time I'd read it I was already slumming it in a rusty rat-infested caravan in rural Oxfordshire due to lack of "proper jobs". But I was still young enough to appreciate it all without cynicism, I guess. Whereas now the main characters are fairly slappable, and I can no longer remember whether Coupland is a shrewd observer or whether I just started living the book. It doesn't really matter - I did enjoy it and get a lot out of it, and will almost certainly read it in 10 years time with even more of the wry and slightly smug, slightly relieved benefit of hindsight that now lets me smile benignly on 20-something women who "will do anything by my maaaaaan - he's the one who made me what I am".

The footnotes were great, actually, whereas the story was by necessity slight. But it was sharply observed and well-written, and made me remember why I liked Coupland in the first place. It's probably a classic, and should be compulsory reading at 15, 25 and 35.

* see '101ism'
cybermule: (Default)
I think when you get into your early thirties, and you grew up with alcoholic parents, you start to notice friends whose habits are becoming unhealthy.

People who arrange their entire lives around days off to deal with their binge-drinking.

People who think that cancelling a date is OK if they've got a hangover.

People who are in a really bad mood, bitch that your driving makes them sick, or have a really lousy time at a planned event because they drank too much the night before.

It's sad. I look at them, and without being patronising, I can see them starting on their own personal downhill spiral :(
cybermule: (Default)
As far as I'm concerned, I'm being paid to spend 10 hours a day listening to Personal Jesus on my MP3 player. My hands pretty much work themselves these days.

Which is a sad inditement of the challenge I get from my work. Leading to a fairly reliable performance indicator of my error rate.

I can do it with my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back, so I frequently do... just for kicks.

I've put in a formal warning to my line manager that I'm stressed. A big step for me. I've told my family that I can't cope any more, and they're broadly sympathetic.

I have three options, which will pan out over the next month or so.

So I'm chipping away at the oppressive block in my life.
cybermule: (Default)
OK, I'm mostly updating to kick my brain out of its current "wasabi pea" track.

I'm just trying to keep a low profile today, and get through work. Visit my aunt. Eat. Sleep.

Being teh knackered is totally my own fault. I stayed up too late last night watching Casanova on DVD. Which was very enjoyable. But meant that I then couldn't sleep due to the combination of heat and "not sleeping stress".


In good news, my laptop's mysteriously mended itself, and can now run off the battery.


The other reason I'm knackered is too much exercise - gym on Friday, running Saturday, hiking Sunday, cycling into work today. I think I broke myself! The run on Saturday was good - my legs start to feel really bouncy and strong when I run. I'm doing the training plan for the 10k, but as I've time to spare, I'm going to take it easy. I'll repeat the run tomorrow, as I conked out on one of the hills.

When I went hiking, I saw donkeys, goats, and petted a sheep.

Friday night, I went to see Cars, which I really enjoyed. Had a lovely day generally on Friday, with lunch at Teohs. Did some socialising, plus small tasks that needed doing.

My lodger's away for a couple of days. I hope it's nothing terrible, but I am glad of having the house to myself.


Aug. 3rd, 2006 01:53 pm
cybermule: (Default)
Not sure what to say, really. The time since I got back from Scotland has been good - went to Joust, had a very successful BBQ (my first ever party!), nice drinks with [ profile] malcygoff, visiting cute godson. All good.

Even work is not so bad, as I alternate between bug fixing, and looking at the DonkeyCam.

And my ex's new GF left yesterday, so I no longer have to keep running into her at work. My ex has moved to a half-timbered house in Trumpton, but on the bright side, I've offloaded all his crap. Actually - that's all the bright side, as the idea of him re-settling into a suburban twee-ville lifestyle is quite amusing.

Only bad news is that they keep putting real bits of animal into all the new and exciting crisps.

cybermule: (Default)
One of the dubious advantages of clearing out my room is that all sorts of scribblings come out of the woodwork. Nearly literally. This one was from "Oranges are not the Only Fruit", and just grabbed my interest at the time:

Over the years, I did my best to win a prize; some wish to better the world and still scorn it. But I never succeeded; there's a formula, a secret, I don't know what, that people who have been to public school or Brownies seem to understand. It runs right the way through life, though it starts with hyacinth growing, passes through milk monitor and finishes somewhere at half-blue.

I think I snagged this a while ago, as it reminded me of my very first day at infant school. We had good old fashioned christian assembly, with hymns and all. And I noticed that pretty much all the other kids knew all the words to the hymns. They all knew each other, too, as they all went to the same church, the same church playgroup; later, the same Am Dram group, Venture Scouts and pub.

Then they all married each other.

Anyway, that feeling of missing out on something was pretty much my first social experience in life.
cybermule: (Default)
This morning, I had an interview for a better paid techy job. Could take it or leave it really, in the sense that pros and cons are balanced, rather than in the sense of apathy.

Lately I've noticed that I really couldn't care less what people think of me. I used to worry when people picked holes in things I said, or were sarcastic. I'd worry that they'd think I was stupid, and I'd vigorously defend my corner.

Now I just think, fuck 'em. I'm not sure whether this is because I'm becoming more secure and confident in myself, or whether I'm just turning into an arrogant bitch.

Either way, I just can't be bothered to engage in it at all. Life seems too short.
cybermule: (Default)
Did a talk this morning to around 60 people. Got scared, still knackered from the stress.

Went to visit S in his new house in London, which was really nice. This was after a business meeting with people who looked uncannily like [profile] aras_55555 and [profile] fyatuk.

Went to my Women into Enterprise meeting, got lots of ideas for my business. My permaculture course has been re-instated at the end of the month.

Slept a lot, due to my new anti-histamine prescription.

Swam a lot.

July 2017



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