Here's how I deal with shite days.
1. Refuse to leave comfort of bed.
2. When forced out of bed, become useless.
3. Refuse to undress.
4. Cry like a baby.
5. Convince BF with puppy dog eyes that I am not well enough for labour.
6. BF skops me out of bed with the following guilt trip ...
(This was me on Wednesday and Thursday last week by the way.)
However the BF (poor man) manages to convince me of what he likes to call "the bigger pitcure". The "bigger picture" is a way to convince oneself that what they are doing/going through/enduring is worth all the stress/chocolate consumption/worry.
My "bigger picture" was Italy. I say 'was' because I probably won't be able to afford going anywhere near a plane, let alone airport unless I have to pick Hamilton up from it.
Why you say? Because I ... (GULP) quit my job. Okay I QUIT MY JOB.
My dad is going to kill me. Mostly because he is my boss. And he doesn't
know because he is traveling to Singapore right now and then onto a rig, where
only much later he will be informed by the manager of my decision. Which has
been called irrational, blamed on my pre menstrual state (I am not pre
menstrual) and my age.
Last week I made the biggest decision of my near future. So the "bigger
pitcure" bubble has burst.
I could very well be solidly broke in the next few months. Which means I
have to get my butt into gear and quick.
Freelancing is no joke. You still have to work a solid amount of hours even
if most of those hours are spent in one's pajama's with scary bed hair. I am taking the leap. I need a new challenge.
Earning my pay cheque was nice, especially spending it on the 25 new items
of fashion now proudly displayed on my rail.
The decision has been made, notice has been handed in, tears have been shed, my colleagues minds have been permeated with doubt and I have never felt such a huge sense of relief. I can finally do what I want.
So PLEASE, pretty please, think of me when someone is looking for a copywriter/blogger/columnist/writer/marketing genius and pass on my details.
And if you notice there are no posts being regularly updated and you see a photo of a very stylish bergie sitting on a street corner. That's me and I need help!
Nine days till unemployment. Will start purchasing canned food now.
I'm kidding, I seriously believe I can do this.