* I have been asked this question at least twice by management so far this year.
Why? Because I need to learn when to keep my big, fat mouth s.h.u.t.
There are mysteries afoot in the office. Sly intrigues not destined to be fathomed; and apparently I should just keep my head down and stay quiet 'til bonus time.
Something tells me this is improbable, if not implausible.
Meanwhile, it's almost three months since this post and the outcomes in the intervening time have been blandly predictable. Things did indeed g0 Wrong (with a capital 'w'). The fallout is just beginning to hit but – predictably – no one seems to be responsible or accountable.
It's suspiciously like the workplace is divided into two discreet camps; people-who-might-fuck-up, and people-who-shit-rainbows-and-puppy-dogs.
Guess which one I'm in.
ask yourself how much you really want to be here*
this just in
I am still on the wagon, people. Where is my sponsorship money?
I never said it wouldn't be an 'experience'
FebFast is going well, so far. This is the big test, though - a weekend without wine!
Part of me is a little sad; and the other part is ashamed.
I've had One Of Those Weeks, and I truly believe I've earned a nice glass of wine; but that's just faulty thinking, isn't it?
The lesson here is: 'Thou shalt not use alcohol as a reward system.'
Add that to yesterday's lesson; 'Thou shalt not use alcohol as a social crutch' and the general rule that 'alcohol is not a form of medication' - and what have you got?
The total revocation of any semblance of propriety from the past five years of my life.
it begins
Tomorrow is the first day of FebFast. I'm feeling virtuously ahead of the curve because I have not sipped a drip of tipple since about 3am Saturday morning.
That's about 43 hours.
... and only 674 to go; assuming I deliberately stay up past midnight on a Sunday just to get a class of wine in.*
* I am tragic, but not that tragic. I will not be doing that.
It will be interesting to be forced to come to terms with the precise nature of "support" I think I get from alcohol.
Those of you who know me will know that this is going to be a Big Fat Lesson. Please make it a profitable one by donating generously. FebFast raises funds for youth drug and alcohol outreach programs.
You can sponsor me by clicking the big, shiny widget on the right.
I'm serious. No, really. No drinking for a month.
Hi Y'all,
I have decided this year to throw probability to the wind and battle through a month-long dry spell; and I want YOU to consider joining me in this difficult adventure.
I am giving up alcohol this February to score as much cash as I can for FebFast, raising funds to help hundreds of young people with serious alcohol and drug problems get a second chance at a healthy life.
If you don't feel up to the challenge you can always chip in by sponsoring my team, Temperance Skillz Development; and by guilting everyone you know into throwing a little sugar our way.
To join me, or sponsor the team, click the widgety-thingy on the right.
I look forward to your ridicule and contemptuous guffawing.
xx Cass.
I keep having the strangest dreams about ex-boyfriends
Last night I was helping my ex- from high school retrieve massive ladders from a rainforest canopy. What precisely the ladders were doing in the canopy is anyone’s guess; but we needed them to take to some kind of hippy camping festival where they were an integral part of his mate’s camping set-up.
A few nights before that was a really complex dream about two ex-boyfriends having sex in a holiday house that kept morphing into different floor layouts so that it became increasingly difficult to access the door to the room they were in. Being that they’re both heterosexual (as far as I know) they weren’t really sure that they wanted to be having the sex, but they were putting in a good effort anyway because for some reason it was ‘expected’.
A can’t really remember the ones before that, just that I know I had them; and I’ve been trying to identify any reason why this may be happening, but I can’t.
My best guess is that it’s got something to do with my increasingly whimsical frame of mind. I’m feeling scatty and close to unhinged at the moment. This morning I felt it necessary to apologise to my office peeps in advance of any quirky things I might do or say in the next few days – in case I get my crazy on in the workplace.
If only anger burned calories
I started Monday angry; which didn't bode well for how the week would pan out. Surprisingly, though, it's actually gotten better as it's worn on. This is not the way things usually occur in my office and it makes me suspicious.
Bad things are coming, professionally speaking. It's just a matter of time.
I'm not just being paranoid. I have very good reason to predict massive collateral damage in the next 3 months. I'd love to write it all out for posterity but I don't want to get dooced. I've been down that road before.
