Self Sabotage

I start things constantly. I can't remember the last time I finished anything. I start diets, fitness regimes, studying, being tidy or something equally arbitrary but I never finish. Except a bottle of wine or maybe some kind of computer game.

My resolve only lasts as long as the voice in my head stays silent.

I woke up this morning and I felt great. I had a nice light weekend: minor wine consumption, an aerobics class and a lot of Animal Crossing and I woke up feeling positive.

Then I got to work and it went downhill but I don't know why. People were nice, I got lots done, I had some fairly successful meetings but by the end of the day I was drained having consumed nothing but empty calories. The sugar crash remains and I feel like a zombie. All I remember is the voice telling me I should have the 6th chocolate digestive. It didn't help and even as I ate it I knew it was only going to make me feel worse but I didn't stop. I never stop. I just crumble.

Still, it's often about appearances. As long as I seem the opposite of the emotional mess that I actually am, people are happy. My boyfriend is happy. My friends are happy.

And I pretend to be happy.

Dance In Your Pants

My dearest friend and co-dependent drinking buddy, Hannah-Bo, posted the other week about the songs that she likes to dance around her living room to, wearing pants and not much else. I mightily enjoyed said blog and thought nothing more of it, for dancing in pants can only be the pass time of someone who does not have logs for legs. However, a gauntlet was thrown: Hannah-Bo demanded my list and seeing that Othona rose so admirably to the challenge, here is my Pant-tastic selection:

1. The song that makes every 'woman of colour' with an arse want to shake it. My boyfriend will blare this from the spare room when he wants to see me as he knows I'll be there shakin' within two bars.



2. A new love this one, it makes me sing and dance like a mental.



3. This one takes me back to university, smoking until stupid o'clock, and screeching like a banshee.



4. I can't describe to you how happy Diana Ross in general makes me and this song is just IT (so long as Hannh-Bo and I can sing along Sing Star-stylee).



5. I heard this song for the first time when I was about 14 on an advert for Beverley Hills 90210 and was instantly captivated. I took me years to find out what the song was called and now I know, I'll never forget. Makes me happy happy.



6. Not strictly a dancing one, but MAN this song changes me as a person. I AM Gladys Knight when this song comes on. Ooooh, *shivers*.



7. I don't know if Vicki reads this blog, but this one is for her. This song was OUR song. We OWNED (sorry Hannah Bo - pwned) this song. The build up at the beginning still gets me excited and I want to run to a dancefloor.



8. This one shames me me but I don't care. I can only do this justice in my living room - no one else ever needs to see me dance to this but Xtina has nuthin' on my ass.



9. This song is just fun and sad at the same time. It makes me feel like summer and I want to strut down the road like I'm cool and I've got it going on. I don't. But when this song comes on I do. A Party-pant essential.



10. I don't know how it does, but this song gives me energy - it comes out of my pores (but in a non-gross or sweaty way) and I can keep dancing even if 2 seconds ago I was on the verge of collapse.

To Conference or not to Conference

Working for a big company is fantastic. I work in a big team, there are lots of social events, there are opportunities to further your career in any number of foreign countries and they pay for lots of professional training.

However, it's also sucky. 'Cos I work in a big team of people who can only remember what happened if it was less than an hour ago, there is a social event every fucking week (it feels like), my email box is bombarded with 'apply for this FANTASTIC opportunity in the arse end of nowhere' mail and I'm being hounded about when I'll be taking my next exams even though I'm only notionally going through the motions to keep them off my back (fail).

However, I can put up with all of this (it's par for the course if you don't work for yourself I suppose) if it weren’t for The Conference. My company loves a conference. Fucking LOVES one. Team Leader Conferences. Area Leader Conferences. Assistant Team Leader Conferences (wtf?). Finance Conferences (scintillating). Conferences by Brand. Regional Conferences. You name it, they've got a conference for it. They even combine the Christmas party with a conference so spend a SATURDAY listening to the company indoctrination spiel and then spend the night getting inappropriately drunk because they've only given you 3 finger sandwiches for lunch and some chicken goujons for dinner. My manager has been to in excess of 4 conferences this year owing to a large amount of overlap in her role. It's MARCH!

I have the dubious honour of being an 'Assistant Team Leader' and I am currently fabricating excuses to get out of the upcoming 'ATL Conference'. A Hen Weekend is winning at the moment. I wouldn't mind but during the last year, owing to my being in Finance, being an Assistant Team Leader & taking the internal ‘Leadership’ training (read: total guff) I have participated in the same 'Change Management' session three times. It was wank the first time.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm cynical or cold as I feel like the outsider so often. It's always me being negative and not joining in. But when I think about the alternative (never ending hangovers, the lack of cash from buying endless rounds of shots and the knowledge that everyone in 'Support' knows what I look like dancing to Ice-Cube) I think I'll continue to do the bare minimum to stay under the ‘not one of us’ radar. I daresay that there will be many hen weekends, family gatherings and birthdays to pull out of the bag when necessary over the next few years.

The Beginning

This is the first post of my first blog but we all have to start somewhere. In my case jealousy has been the catalyst - all of my good friends have blogs and the inevitable followers that follow; my insecure being dictates that I should have one too.

I will write about nonsense.

I will write about my feelings.

I will write about my dreams.

But mostly nonsense...

Please come back.

The Wine Drinker