Category Archives: Personal

Now That’s What I Call a Productive Morning…

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Started at 8:30 with laundry folding.  Went on to final bookcase building.  Finished with deep bathroom cleaning (both bathrooms) and rounded it off with a lovely soak in the tub.

Now I am going to help Simon carry empty boxes and other rubbish to the bins in the basement and then curl up and have a lovely Sunday Afternoon Nap (TM).

In other news, I am going back on my ‘c food diet’.  That mean, basically, no foods that begin with the letter c.  No chips or crisps or chocolate or cookies or curries or cola.  Carrots and Coriander are okay!

I Don’t Want To Spoil Anyone

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but I have to point out that in this week’s Doctor Who, its the PA who figures out there what the really weird thing is that is going on!

Once again, I have to point out…Don’t mess with the PA!

This PA, the one writing this blog, kicked ass herself on Friday at work.  Managed to copy, bind and get into envelopes all the Board Papers within 30 minutes.  That’s cuz me and my team rock!

In other news…have two big nights planned over the next two months.  End of May we’re having a reunion drink up at work.  I’ve invited all our old staff to join us for some food and booze.  Should be good criac.

Then at the beginning of June is our yearly Charity Pub Quiz.  Also should be good craic.  Our charity this year is the Darwin200, which celebrates Darwin’s 200th birthday next year.  Very sciencey of us, don’t you think?

Spring Might Have Finally Arrived

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At least I think its fairly nice out this morning.  It is at least very still, which it hasn’t been for weeks.

I may bite the bullet (and why on earth would anyone actually bite a bullet?) and wear my spring cape today rather than my big winter coat.  I may get a bit cold waiting for the bus, but at least I won’t be hot waiting for the bus this afternoon.

Which reminds me about something I wanted to write about…

The other day I was walking home from the bus stop.  It must have been last Thursday because Simon works late on Thursdays and, therefore, doesn’t meet me at the bus stop when I get home.  So I was walking alone.  And watching the people.

All of them were in a hurry.  Just rushing down the street to get to their next activity.  Why? What’s the big hurry?  Isn’t the journey worth the trouble to slow down?  I always walk a bit slowly, especially on my way home from the bus after work.  I like to look around.  See what’s new.  Are there leaves on the trees?  How’s the construction on the neighborhood church going? Wow, that’s a cool car.

People really don’t watch the world.  I find that sad.  It is ever changing, even in the middle of City Centre of Belfast.  The other day I was looking out the window in our front room and noticed that out of 10 cars parked on the street, 9 of them were red.  When I looked again about an hour later?  9 of them were blue.  I find that fascinating.

So.Stop.Look.At.The.World.  Who knows what you might be missing…

Depression and Getting Things Done

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Well, I would say the meds don’t work.  I had lots of plans for this weekend.  Building the final bookcase.  Cleaning the flat.

Neither of these things happened.  I spent most of today asleep.  I did do some stuff yesterday, but not as much as I was hoping to do.

I hate it when I get like this, even though I know I can’t help it.  And I guess it is better to do it on the weekend, rather than during the week. I will go to work tomorrow.  I have to.  I have a meeting and board papers to write.  I have to be there.  People are relying on me.

Simon relies on me as well, but the basic stuff is done.  Clothes are clean.  Groceries are ordered for the week.  We had a nice dinner.

But I still feel bad that I didn’t get more done this weekend.

I’m sure I’ll get over it.

On Being Jewish in a Christian Country

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So tonight is the first night of Passover.  What does that mean to me, a Jew in a Christian country?

Not a hell of a lot, actually.  I haven’t been to a Seder in, gosh, about 5 years.  The last one I was at was with my mother in Florida at a friend’s house.

I am not an observant Jew.  I do not keep kosher.  I do not observe the Sabbath.  I do not go to Temple.

There is a small Jewish community here in Belfast.  I know one other Jew, a woman I used to work with.  Other than that?  My being Jewish doesn’t affect anything.

Okay, so that’s not entirely true.  When I got married, I insisted that my veil cover my hair as completely as possible during the ceremony.  That was important to me on that day.

Oh and I skew the stats for our Fair Employment Paperwork, since I am the only one in my office who does not check off either Catholic or Protestant, but Other, on the form.  (yes, in NI, those are the 3 choices.  They don’t care what colour your skin is, but your religion is paramount).

Most of my memories of events like Seders have nothing to do with the Seder itself.  I mostly remember the warmth of my mother’s kitchen the year we had a Seder for about 20 people as the women scurried about getting the meal on the table (and it was the women.  Something about it being a Seder makes the traditional roles come through) and then cleaning up afterwards.  I remember looking down the long table that year, with basically my entire family there, and feeling a part of something bigger than myself.  Knowing that all over the world Jewish families were doing the exact same thing at more or less (with the variances of time zones) the exact same time.

Even my most recent Seder, at my mother’s friends house, I don’t really remember the Seder.  I remember after the Seder, helping to clean up in the kitchen.  The hosts had hired a caterer and serving staff to help them, as there were about 25 people there, and they wanted to enjoy the Seder and not be stuck in the kitchen.  Even so, after dinner, the women were all in the kitchen, helping to put away the food and the dried dishes and such. The men? They were watching a sporting event on TV. 🙂

So being Jewish in a Christian country isn’t really that big of a deal to me.  But sometimes I think maybe it should be.

First Day Back at Work

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Its always tough coming back after being off for awhile, whether off for sick or off for holiday. So many things just don’t get done when I am not there.

Our receptionist did a good job covering the CEO for me, so that’s not too messed up.  His diary looks to be in okay shape.  Luckily he didn’t try to do things himself, he always messes it up.

Why is grown men can’t keep their own diaries?  Back when I worked for the insurance company in the States, I was the PA to a VP.  I used to threaten to have cards made up for him to hand out when he was at meetings saying “I am not allowed to book my own appointments.  Please call Robyn on…..”  He never let me though.

Even with Blackberry’s and other PDAs, I can’t trust the SMT with their own diaries.  Makes me CRAZY!

Anyway, I’m back at work.  And I spent the past two days doing website updates.  And getting letters organized.  And other assorted PA type stuff.

Who knows what tomorrow will bring…

The View From the New Flat

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God, all this depression talk, is depressing me.  🙂  Time to move on to something else for a bit.

The view from the new flat is a brand new building.  Its been finished about 2 or 3 months.  It houses a hotel and a business of some kind.

Occasionally there are very late meetings at the business.  We can see into their big meeting room from our balcony, and I mean very late.  I think it was last week that there were 2 men and 3 women in that room until about 9pm.  Very weird.  Looked kind of like a board meeting, but so late?

Down the street a bit is a health club.  I think about joining it on occasion.  But I doubt I ever will.

This morning the Harbour Police were parked across the street.  Bit out of their jurisdiction, since, not the harbour!  City Centre, actually.  Very strange.

So it isn’t the most beautiful view in the world, from our Flat.  But its ever changing!

Depression and Guilt

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The biggest problem, for me, with my depression, is the guilt I start to feel as I start to come out of the black place.

Guilt that my flat is a mess. Guilt that my Admin Team at work has got to be covering for me. Guilt for lying to my parents and saying I was fine, when I was not.

That last one, lying to my parents guilt, is probably the least guilt laden. Not that I enjoy lying to my parents, I don’t, I never have. I have usually told them everything. But I get tired. I get tired of my dad saying ‘how are you really?’ Really? I’m pretty crappy thanks for asking. I also get tired of talking about how I feel. Are you down? Anxious? Happy? Sad? All of the above?

Its exhausting. I know they ask because they care, but it is still exhausting. I have to repeat myself over and over, first telling my mom, and then my dad, how I am really. They’re divorced, so its not like I can say “And now you tell Dad, Mom.” Cuz he isn’t standing there next to her. He’s about 600 miles away!

As for my Admin Team, I think that carries the most guilt. I know they are my friends and are mostly concerned for me, but I know how aggravated I get when one of them is out for a few days and I have to cover for them. I do it, of course, that’s part of being a team, but I bitch about it. I can’t imagine how much they are annoyed at me at the moment. But its probably a lot. And I don’t blame them.

Without me there, some one is covering the CEO. That can be a full time job, depending on what is going on at the moment. I manage to cover him and the DF&A and the DCRE&F when I am there, but its always a juggling act. The answer to the question ‘Robyn, are you busy?’ is ‘I’m always busy, what do you need?’

As for the messy flat?  Its actually not that messy.  Simon and I have a good system for splitting up chores and at least his are getting done!  Mine will get done over the next few days, including the last two book shelves put together and the books unpacked.

But I still feel guilty.