Personality types

So, I'm in training and I'll be honest and say it's not the best experience I've ever had in my life. Yes, there have been giggles. But mainly, in the whole, it's dire.

And has given me much in the way of self analysis. I look around and wonder that if one day, I'll turn into these people I'm surrounded by. I don't think it's possible but maybe in the future, I'll be as petty and jaded as some of them appear to be.

Yesterday we did a personality test and I got quite annoyed in the aftermath. Now, lets get something straight, I enjoy being 'good' at my job...it's what I want to be. I'm not saying I love the organisation I work for, nor that I love how they go about things but I want to be capable. It's the whole wanting to know what you're doing for me. It's that learning to run before walk thing. And yes, that's probably my personality type. I also don't like to be pigeon holed. And I looked at all those personality types and thought I would fit into all those boxes but I came out strong in Activist or something with an A. That in itself didn't bother me too much, I can see that yes, I would sometimes be in that box and wow...good on me for still being that type after 10 years working where I do.

But it was when the trainer said those people weren't the people you'd want solely in an office, that I got annoyed. I've been damn great in my job - I've got reports that say so. And if I hadn't jumped up and offered for something - thinking of two instances off the top of my head - I would not have a) been promised an award and b) met TheBear. So...stuff the trainer yes? But as I reflect (hahahhaa see I do fit into another personality box) I think, well actually I KNOW the office isn't where I'm strongest, where I was meant to be. I wasn't wired for sitting at a desk - which is why I offer out for stuff due to boredom thresholds being high when I am behind a desk for 7 hours a day.

Yesterday I was annoyed. Today I am slightly less so because it's just another firecracker getting let off showing me what I need to do.

Laws of our land

There be laws. Oh yes there are. Laws that won't mean a thing to my 5 readers in the Eastern Bloc - who are you by the way....do you think 'Krazy English Lady - she speaks so funny'.

Anyway, laws.... we've made a few.


1) Bacon sandwiches - mandatory on a weekend and/or rest day (see below)
2) PBM - Mondays
3) Rest days are all day events - combining food, lots of laughing, some TV, much smiling.
4) Chinese restaurants are to be upheld above all others, especially those in Southampton
5) Text messages from national Pizza chains are to be taken seriously
6) Cats should be smooth and curly
7) Bears should be winners who have the most delightful fur.
8) Road trips must have music - good music - mixed tapes are golden
9) Mermaids must have protection from crabs who are after their scales
10) Poker Bears catch fish
11) Shalmon - consumed a lot with shteak
12) "Yeeesh" and "country cooking" is a legitimate way of speaking
13) There is only one kind of coffee machine and maybe two types of coffee to drink
14) Cats shall not roam the street after midnight unless they are THE Cat.
15) Bees make the perfect spies
16) Snakes are not to be attacked

17) Precautions should always be in place. 

That's a few for now... there are a million more

My word(s)

So my last blog hovered briefly on writings I've done. And today at work, while clearing out my desk - going into training dontcha know? New system, new stuff to learn. Hope the brain can handle it. Anyway, I came across my training from last year - yup I'm the poster child for change. And in that folder was a few bits I wrote while in that training - either while I might have been bored or on a break.
I'm going to write it here..purely because it made me laugh. I actually remember that day, I was SO tired that if I hadn't had written something/anything, I would have snored super loudly. (with that said, I don't snore, I snuffle just for the record)

Here it is:

Eyes blinking
Every blink an effort
"Stay up" my brain says
"I'm tired" protests those eyes
And they influence and infect the
Rest of my body
I'm shutting down, going
Into Sleep Mode
Head getting heavier
Arms and legs llooking to
Crawl together, to rest
Side by side
The eyes have it, they win
ASLEEP

AJG 02.05.13 11.40 am

Okay it's not great but I was sleepy remember?  And after many years of not writing a lot, I ended up writing 3 that day.

I did one for Nhandi - it's only going to be good for me, but I'm going to post it, because I DO remember writing this one and getting teary and yet today I read it and smiled.

My 'so black it's blue' haired beauty
My smiley, funny, silly best friend,
My thirteen thirteen for ever and beyond
My Cinzano and lemonade chipped tooth
My sister I got to choose
My 'never gonna eat fish again' fairy
The one who knew my mind
Who could answer questions I hadn't yet asked
Who believed I would rule the world
By my side in a BMW cabriolet (white)
Inside jokes and duo's
The other love of my life
The opposite of me, yet the same, my other half
My Nhandi

AJG 02.05.13 12.13pm

Stuff

And we carry it forward,

All the hurt, the pain, the anger

Instead of remembering

The elation, the butterflies, the laughter.

Memories of Misery not Mirth

AJG 22/05/2014

Sadness over happiness every time.

But why?

When memories are made, they do not discriminate

We remember all of it.

So why do we look to what was bad, rather than what was good?

I will not let that be me. I can recall the hurt, the sorrow, the betrayal. But I will not have that as the basis of my memories. No, they are of sunshine and laughter, coming of age and a whole lot of firsts.

Instead of my mother the stroke victim, it’s my mother; the vibrant, frustrating, stubborn, silly confidante that I remember.  That she ALWAYS gave me affection. That it’s no great shame she can’t remember how to say my name, because she never said it much pre-stroke – I was always a ‘lovie’ or some such endearment. My mother was so opinionated, so obstinate, so much her own confident person, she was also amazing. She is NOT the woman she is now. And I guess that upsets me purely because when people meet her now, they’re not meeting MEG, they’re not really meeting her.

Other things too – I carry the happiness not the misery.  I refuse point blank to be miserable anymore, it’s not conducive to my health, my mental stability, my outlook and most importantly, my future.

I found a book last night, writing, tons of it, poetry and stories and just so much emotion. But it’s good, I read it and it’s really good. Which means, she says self depreciatively, I must be good? Ha, and that’s awkward to write.

18 months

So its 18 months today since Nhandi left this world. A whole year and a half. And it's Mother's Day in South Africa today. Had she still been with us, I bet she would have been posting about how special her day had been, how blessed she was to be the mother of two beautiful children. How she loved her own mom. That sort of thing.
And yet she's not here to do all those things.
18 months.. and I still remember that morning so clearly. How I tried not to answer the phone as it was going to be bad news. How I lay in my bed thinking that if I didn't answer the phone, my life would stay as it was - I would still have a best friend to see and visit and love and talk to. So I lay there thinking all that, still woefully drunk from the night before and then I knew I couldn't delay it any longer, I pulled myself up, I sat on the side of my bed and took the call that changed how my life would be from now on.
And when you get news like that, your brain won't take it in. The first words are of disbelief - no no no was what came out of my mouth. While your brain is processing this - your body is going into shock. It refuses to work the way it needs to. My legs decided they were useless. They couldn't hold my weight. I crumpled to the floor and there I stayed - making all the phone calls, I never thought I'd have to. Waking people up to inform them a beauty had passed away. At some point, I ended up in my kitchen - I don't know how I got there, I might have crawled.
What the brain does then is remarkable. It shows you normality. Look a kettle, put it on. There's your cup, insert coffee, sugar and milk. The tears stop. You pour the water, you stir. You sip. And then boom! The brain remembers why you woke up so early, and the "no no no" starts again. I lay on my carpet. I sobbed, I stopped, I started again. The whole day was like that. The shock, the disbelief, the grief, the numbness.

If I look to that day 18 months ago, when my heart broke. I think yes, I have gotten better. But every now and again (like today), my brain and my body go into what I think is a mini-shock and I get a refresher in the grief stakes. I am still disbelieving she is gone.

Just last week, I was going through an old phone and came across a photo she had sent me of little G - they had been in the supermarket and G had wanted a packed of crisps - my favourite kind. Nhandi was in hysterics - she had never promoted that kind of snack to G before. Nhandi reckoned I had influenced from afar. She sent me the picture, saying she was laughing so much - that my god-daughter was clearly following in my footsteps. And it's a beautiful picture and one I had forgotten about. I do like that I still see signs for my girl here and there. Maybe they are not signs at all but that I'm looking for affirmation she is still here. Either or, they help my brain and body with the loss.

And I still really really miss her. I wish I could tell her about TheBear and about CG leaving school and how emo I'm being about it all. All wishes that will never come true.

So a happy memory to end off because I refuse to acknowledge how sad I feel right now and instead I want to laugh when I think of her *Remember by Christina Rosetti*

And I'm typing this and laughing and realising I'm not going to share anything because all the stories that are popping into my head are ones that shouldn't be mentioned!

Ah my noo noo, my noodles, my nhands, you are still so missed and loved and cherished. #wishyouwerehere

Queries

I don’t pretend to have all the answers. Hell, I don’t even pretend to know what the questions are half the time.

And then you get asked a question out of the blue… would you ever get married?

I start to analyse myself. Do I say I’ve never thought about it, because it’s easier to say that, than the more honest: no one has ever been serious about wifeing me up? And maybe that’s why it’s something I’ve not really thought of. And it goes back to a previous blog where I’ve said that society or the people within our worlds, have this perception that life is all about a happy ever after, fairytale style. That you’ve not been a success unless you’ve done it all: travelling, working an amazing career, marriage and perfect kids. It’s taken me a while to work out that I’m NOT a failure because all those things haven’t featured in my life (yet) and that my happy ever is different to others.

So, would I ever get married? I guess I would – not the big fat fuss of those mahoosive white weddings…that’s never going to be me.

And as I type this, I realise the reason I don’t really know the answer, is because it’s not that big a deal. I’m okay with me, I’m actually damned more than okay with living how I want to live. I DO want to travel more, I DO want to write more, I do want to ENJOY more. That’s all in MY grasp to do. Do I need another person to do that? I guess not, but it would be nice to share the moments. I imagine that my head feels I’m too young for all this settling down shit.