Sunday, March 27, 2011


According to my employment contract, I’m expected to be at work, and most likely working, 8 ½ hours a day. Realistically I’m there 9 hours at least. If I include commuting time and organising myself to go to work, I spend about 11 hours out of my day orientated around work. So basic, and let’s face it demoralising, maths shows that I spend 8 hours sleeping less 11 hours working leaves me with 5 hours in my evenings. Take away a further 2 hours for house work, stopping off at the shops on the way home for sustenance and what not then another hour or so I spend at the gym every other day I’ve got about 2 to 3 hours every day to enjoy my life... “life” mustn’t forget the important inverted comers on that one.

I admit this bothers me a little, but we all do it so I shouldn’t really complain.
The moral of this isn’t “oh pity me, I’m so busy with my modern life”. Let’s face it, I’m the one that wants those new shoes that are completely impracticable and will most likely lead to medical expenses later in life in the form of lower back issues but, they are so pretty and make me feel better about myself, until the balls of my feet start pounding in agony. I don’t want to go without these useless additions to my life so I make sure I can afford the things I want. 

The aim of this little tangent is that we spend 8 ½ hours a day with my work mates and about 3 hours with my partner/friends/ family and most importantly myself. So why do people at work seem to make as little effort as possible to build relationships with their co workers? I’m not saying we all have to be best friends, far from it, but at least try to create a pleasant atmosphere.
I’m referring to one person in particular at my place of work. Snide comments if I’m eating chocolate (it’s my arse and I can do what I want with it), expressly inviting the person next to me out for lunch every bloody day (I’ve never been asked), asking if I’m not feeling well because I look soooo run down (this happens mainly on days where I think I’m dolled up quite nicely).
I admit I don’t want to go to lunch with this person but it the way they seem to intentionally show I’m not welcome. That I’m somehow not worthy to be in their company and I’m not the only person she does it to (Yes, shock horror it’s a woman that is being a right ol’ bitch in the workplace). It’s that she is going out of her way to make the people around her feel uncomfortable. Then she gets upset that we don’t like her, the poor little poppet.

I try to make an effort with co workers, we do after all spend a hell of a lot of time with them and even though we don’t choose them, they have a big impact on our day to day lives. So I smile when I walk past someone in the kitchen and I ask how their weekend was. I do this because I don’t think I’m a raving lunatic that thinks that my happiness is at the cost of everyone else, that I don’t need to feel superior than someone to make my life worth living.
Being nice 80% of the time is worth it so that 20% that you’re in a grump, someone will make you a coffee and be understanding that you’re only human.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Intro and a Rant

I like the idea of being the “other woman”. Not in a sexually explicit affair kind of way but in the sense that I don’t think I fit any of the stereotypes put on my gender. Being “the other one” isn’t a bad thing and not something to be ashamed of. I have a feeling that most people feel like they don’t really fit in with any crowd and that we sometimes feel like a bit of an outcast.

I wanted to start a blog not because I think what I have to say is ground breaking or, to be honest, all that interesting.  I think the majority of things I’m going to blog about are what I think the issue with the “do it all” mentality that is what I see to be the driving force behind why so many people these days are so unhealthy, stressed and not just obese but morbidly obese.  There is probably going to be some other bits a pieces in here too, I’m not really sure.

Back on topic, I can’t forget the day my ex’s autistic nephew, at only 18 months old, could not only identify a Hungry Jacks outlet (Burger King for those outside of Melbourne) but made “ommmmyummmm yummm” noises at it.  I don’t blame the fast food outlet and I understand his parents had one hell of a challenge raising him and put a lot of effort in developing his abilities and loved him unconditionally. I was however gobsmacked, a child with all of his challenges could do this at 18 months old. What the hell is happening to the world?
Not long ago a work mate of mine thought she was being healthy by drinking a juice box, once the sugar content was pointed out to her she was amazed. She thought she was being so healthy and doing a good thing for her body, she has since decided to stick to water.

I can’t help but think that maybe this is all a side effect of having not been properly educated by our parents on what is “good food” and “bad food”. Most people have working parents and some people aren’t even fed decent meals these days. If you don’t have the drive to actually pay attention to what we are eating then it is so easy to fill our body’s full of preservatives, colours, favours, sugars and salts. Not to mention “cooking” these days mainly consists with reheating pre-packaged food off the shelf. Have these people really not clicked that a cream based sauce off the shelf that can keep for 3 months is just not right, not to mention it tastes awful.  I still have “bad food” (seriously onion rings at 4 am are fantastic) I Just know it’s not something I should eat every day, which is something it seems a lot of people have forgotten. And let’s face it, cookies are a sometimes food and we shouldn’t need the cookie monster to tell us that.

Sometimes things in life throw a spanner in the works and so we don’t look after ourselves properly but I don’t see that as an excuse to give up and eat frozen pizza four nights a week.
I’m not a “health freak” or a “gym junkie” and I’m defiantly not wonder woman. It doesn’t need to be amazing food it doesn’t need to wow all your friends but who said the putting half decent food in your mouth was in the too hard pile.