Words of warning and welcome:

This is very much my blog, so don't be surprised if this doesn't follow accepted patterns and norms. It is a place where I can be anonymous and honest, and I appreciate that.

It will deal with many things and new readers would do well to check out the "Story So Far" Page above this and the "New Readers" tag down there on the right. Although there's nothing too bad in here there will be adult language, so be careful. If you think this needs a greater control, please let me know. Thank you!

Wednesday, 11 July 2012

And the beat goes on...

Drums keep pounding a rhythm to my brain...

Well, there was a cough just now, so I won't get long to write this as I am.  However, I can say that my evening has so far been a pleasant one.  I was not anticipating it to be so.  Tilly went out for the evening to go to singhing practice at church, and for the first time I was not giving her a lift so she set out earlier than normal and, just for a change, I was to look after both children.

Five minutes after stating confidently "I'm not tired at all" my
daughter looks a little like this.  This is not her, it was found
on Google and is a 'free image' I believe from a site on
how to get stroppy three year olds to sleep.
They suggest locks on doors.  I am not convinced.
Of course, she immediately went into working herself up because Mummy had gone out and, impressionable thing that the Boy is, he followed.  I was despairing of getting them sensibly to bed.  With trepidation I took them both up, followed our little slightly woolly routine and then settled them both down.  With the Boy I took longer after a method I picked up the previous night.  Tilly was having trouble getting him to sleep yesterday and so I was drafted in at about 8pm to try.  I held him and stroked his head for about an hour and he drifted off around 9pm.  This was after looking after the Boy from when I got in from work (about 4pm yesterday) to bed time, about 7pm.  I then was with the daughter from 7 to 8pm as she was not tired at all and certainly not grouchy.  She fell asleep about five minutes before I was called to bail Tilly out.

Huh, this is the actual collar.
So, tonight I was expecting far worse.  But, ten minutes of stroking the Boy's head and he fell asleep and then about twenty of holding daughter's hand resulted in her being asleep enough that I could retreat.  This all means, with Tilly out until about 9pm, I have some me time tonight.  Predictably I fished my rucksack from the car and am wearing my dress, my boots, a pair of rather frilly little knickers and a collar that I picked up from the pet shop while buying chinchilla food.  Lord knows why, but I did.  For what it's worth, that collar is purple.  It's nice.  The ensemble, I mean, not just the collar.  However, I won't have much longer in it.

Yes!  That's the groan right there when you realise that it's
happening anyway and nothing you can do nor say will make
the blindest bit of difference to what has already been
decided but with the knowledge that somewhere you
fucked up enough to make it happen anyway.  That's me, that
is, but prettier and with less facial hair.
My ridiculous meeting at work went ahead.  It did not get as confrontational as I had feared it might.  I knew that certain things were not right and I was relying on my voicing them to get the discussion started.  I was also very much aware that the last time I tried anything of the sort I was shouted down and my Union representative had had to intervene on my behalf.  Why?  Because under verbal onslaught of any kind I turn to jelly, assume it's all my fault and go to pieces.  It's not a terribly endearing quality.  I was braced for the heated exchange.  It didn't happen.  I did learn some things though.  I'm on the stupid programme of 'support' (and I use the term loosely) because of the insecurities of my new boss, something I suspected but the senior boss practically said it - as an attack on me, by the way, after all, no boss would be insecure if their underling didn't make them so... riiiiiiight.  Also, the process doesn't exist - no records are kept.  Also, the process is flawed - it was not about correcting perceived issues with my work but about engendering better working relationships between my boss and I; I can hit as many targets as I want but so long as my boss remains insecure I shall remain on the process.  I can't even begin to express my frustration and outrage at that last one.

Following that I did little work at work.  Strangely I was somewhat demotivated.  Not terribly, just enough to think "what is the point".  You know the drill.  However, with new iPads at work I simply reached for Temple Run and indulged a little in mindless game playing.  There is oddly little worry at the moment, the day was... fuzzy.  And getting the children to bed went mercifully well, in spite of rather than because of my actions.  Now I'm just luxuriating in clothing that feels like mine.  I must say, unexpectedly, the collar feels as right as does the dress and the boots.

Listening to this (thanks to Dee Mentia) helps:

Make of this what you will.  The collar is off now, I'm dressed for bed, no marks (except from the bra, I bought it back when I'd split from Toby - it was deliberately a bit tight).  I am in null zone now that I'm not dressed.  Not disappointment just... nothing.  I'm not even planning tomorrow, which is my usual fall back position.  I may have that beer.  I don't know.  Next week I plan to start back on the Haven and on commenting on other blogs again.  I miss the community feel that brings.  Not in a bad way, just I notice the absence of it.

Like the collar.  Am strangely feeling its absence more than I felt it on.  Unexpected.

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All comments are welcome, I have a thicker skin virtually than I do in real life!