How are Things?

Tag: life

  • Sunday 22nd June 2025

    Good evening, all. I’m writing this while under the covers, my cat making herself comfortable at my feet. It is Sunday night, after a busy week, and I wanted to take a few minutes to say hello.

    This week saw me take my car in for testing. Unfortunately it failed, in that the diesel filter needs cleaning and that is a job that takes several thousand euro. I will need to get that arranged, and I am not sure how or when I will be able to find the time.

    My annoying and very unpleasant colleague has finally left the unit. My boss seems to believe that the right thing to do is to have Annoying colleague still on the books in case she is needed. This is annoying, again. And I will have not so much a performance review, but an objective-planning meeting this Tuesday. I actually hate speaking to my boss these days, in that my body actually reacts to it.

    Also this week my son will be leaving his primary school. He is nonchalant about it, in that he seems to feel he will be able to go back and visit at Christmas. Yes, he will, but he will face a very different world in secondary school, one that has a lot of new demands to make on him. I am weepy at the thought of leaving his old school, and I very much pine already for the understanding nature of his teachers. I felt able to exhale there. Now, it is very different, as it has to be. I fear if I show him how large the mountain ahead is, he will lose hope.

    And on Saturday, my son and I took our much loved cat to the vet. She had shown no illness or symptoms but as she had never been to a vet before it seemed the wisest thing. Getting the poor thing on a leash was very hard, and then we had to bring her in the car, another trauma. When we got there, we had to wait for over 45 minutes. Eventually we were told that she has bad teeth, bad hips and needs her vaccinations updated; all told, it comes in as over €1,500. That may have to be done in payments, I think.

    After that, we went to go visit my sister’s child; I’ll tell you all about that interaction next time!

  • 18th June 2025

    Good evening, all. Another day is done, and the sun has set. This day has been hotter than normal, a dry, unblinking heat setting over the city and into the suburbs. My son is approaching the end of his primary school education, and to celebrate the school takes children on what they call a Leaver’s Tour. It means that I had to collect him an hour later than usual, a short vigil in the car while trying not to fall asleep.

    He’s on a high right now, as his last report card from his school was full of praise for the young man he’s become. They worked so well with him. He had struggled at his previous school, which had been a private, fee paying school. They had despised his outgoing ways, and loathed him even more when he received an Autism diagnosis. That is not an exaggeration: the overly fussy principal had shook her bob and said, “Sorry, he’ll have to go,” when I presented the recommendation report. When I had demanded his right to remain, they made the rest of his time there punative in an effort to force him out. When covid had arrived, they were almost gleeful.

    That was a very hard time.

    Getting the diagnosis came after the end of a personal struggle, and one day I will give the full report of it. Then the school he eventually went to came about after a long search online, then contacting them, and then a near magical walkthrough where my son found it amazingly comforting and positive. They were everything the other school wasn’t, a nearly rosy glow of support after years of outright obstacles. He thrived there.

    And now he is moving to a new school, a secondary school near our new home that has an autism support dog, a unit he can retreat to, and a full range of classes that will work with the skills he has, rather than the skills they feel he should have.

    For a short brief moment a few weeks back I listened to his father. That happens when I feel vulnerable or unsure. The subject options outside the core were Art, Graphic Design, and Geography. His father, paranoid due to Trump and a need to hope for chaos, wanted him to take Geography. For some reason I listened to him, the man who at every stage made the worst possible decisions. When my son realised he would not be taking Graphic Design he was horrified, and I realised what I had done. I had listened to his father’s fears, rather than ask myself what was right for my son. I put the question to his current school as well, and they answered immediately in the affirmative; Art and Graphic Design. His skills there are above anyone else they have ever seen. There is no reason to do otherwise.

    I have contacted his new school to make the change, and they rang us on the way home from my collecting him. I’ll confirm the details tomorrow, but hopefully I will never listen to his father again. I am vulnerable, perhaps, lonely and feeling uncertain about myself. My experiences in work and in other areas mean I would like support, and when that happens I fawn, and bend, far too much. I asked myself today, though, what it would be like to be back with his father.

    Then I snatched up the facecloth on the side of the sink and screamed, three times, into it, only stopping when I realised that screaming didn’t help.

    So what have we learned? That making decisions based on fear is always wrong. And that I have a vulnerability right now, in that I would like more assurance about my decisions. It will make no impact on me at all, as when I think about having a relationship I become very, very angry. But the need is there. Even the sturdiest trees sometimes need support.

  • Tuesday, 3rd of June 2025

    It is 5.34am again; I have slept little, for some reason deciding to stay up late for no good reason. Added to the cat deciding to throw up at 4.30am, I’m back at the land of extreme tiredness. The main symptom is thought that lacks any real depth, and an elevated heart rate, all day. I’ve learn to not make decisions or take offence on those days, the main goal is to get to bed early.

    During Covid days were like that. You had to slide through them without connecting or touching to anything happening, just allow the events happen in front of your eyes without any emotional connection. It took a lot for that to change and to act on what I was seeing.

    The day today will be going through the motions; I am a person who built her world on motions so that will be no problem. I have a less than fantastic administrator to assist me. Their work is fine, they just lack any politeness. I will get through the day, get home, make dinner, and get to bed by 10pm, no arguing. I have to get an online meeting, but I will merely watch with no other distractions, I won’t do other than listen.

    On the phone to my brother this weekend, for the usual hour, he asked why I get up so early. Only men ask you to justify your decisions. My son and my work take up all my day, and I am obliged to get up early to make time for myself. To him, it is firstly perfectly okay to ask that question, and secondly he has so little understanding of the work it takes to keep another person going, alive, thriving, that he wonders at the structure my life takes because of it.

    Only five more minutes and my time of discussion is done; I received a wedding invitation via dm in February and didn’t realise it. The bride contacted me yesterday to see if I was coming, and when I checked the invitation was her child’s drawing. It looked so like a child’s drawing I ignored it, and didn’t see it was in fact her wedding invitation. The event is at a house in the country, and I would in fact have to cancel a medical appointment and attend, by myself, knowing no one and being without any means of getting away should the event become too much. And, as I don’t drink, I would be very poor company for everyone else.

    Good luck today to you, anyone that comes across this. You deserve a very good day.

  • Wednesday 28th May 2025

    So, I write these early in the am. If I am late with my exercise, then my time to write is shorter. Right now I have 17 minutes to write. On we go.

    My hideous colleague will continue to be hideous until the 20th of June, at which point they become someone else’s problem. The problem is that they will be still close by; they are moving to the unit next door, meaning I will still have to see them about the place. I hope very much that I have enough of a reputation to allow my friendly chat with them to go ahead; I am sure H.C. will continue being hideous there. I have also lied on the reference, giving a full clearing to go ahead and hire her. It is a role that will see her do well, in that she is not dealing with the public; but if she does it kindly remains to be seen.

    We’ve had torrents of rain these last few days, after weeks of blue skies. I am not phased by it, I have more than enough fortitude built up over years of it to not be upset. The concept of ‘cosy’ comes to the fore and I enough my home even more than I have been. The home itself is relatively new, I moved in here October 2024. I am still afraid to decorate it the way I want to, having been renting for years. The move itself was exhausting too, obliged to be done in a 6 hour period, so no opportunity to reflect on anything, merely move black bags and sacks immediately.

    Today’s plan; work, then gym for my son, then dinner and laundry. I will need to ask my creative side to come up with something useful to write about the next time I’m here.

  • Monday 26th May 2025

    Yesterday I stayed up quite late; later than I should. It meant that when the alarm went at 5am this morning, I was already exhausted. It is such a strange form of defiance, staying up late; the only person I harm is myself.

    I managed to get up, exercise and to update my subreddit, then shower, breakfast and all the important stuff. My son made it into school, I headed into work. My horrible colleague, who I am in fact line manager, was there, and I frankly avoided her. She is a snarling, abrupt type of person, all stick and no softness and I simply cannot deal with her. I made some very strong coffee and got on with the business of the day.

    One of the business items was printing out some documents for my passport application. Then on to the usual rush. At 12noon my own line manager spoke to me in our usual scheduled meeting, and then a rushed lunch. At 2pm I had my own meeting with hideous colleague.

    To my marvel and delight, she gave me her notice. This is fantastic news, she has had formal complaints about her behaviour from several quarters and all of it waived out of hand by my boss. But she is gone, away to a team that maybe or maybe not will be a better fit, but it is not my problem.

    I left at the usual time and took my son to his gym session. He gets on very well with two of the boys there, a development that gives me a stab of anxiety; I am no good at being liked, I fear the same fate for him. Then home, dinner, wash up, making lunches.

    The air is delightful. The prospect is positive. A major hurdle to happiness is gone. Oh, happy happy day!