Welcome to my world. It is not very exciting. However by all accounts it should be. I am 30-something, 5ft2, single and am more intent on finding work I love than a man I love (an issue my mother worries about continuously).
I live in London- arguably the best city in the world – but I do not appreciate it enough. By day I ooze urban chic (this is a lie) and I then return to the warm glow of Sam’s Chicken in my suburban safe hole.
As I tap out this, my first post, I am quietly rapping to Coolio (because errr I AM cool and its on the radio), munching on chocolate covered rice cakes, sneezing every so often (hayfever) and pretending that I’m actually writing minutes from a god awful meeting when I’m quite clearly not.
This marks the start of another nine hour day in a shiny white box. Not a mental asylum as such but an office block, full of people trying to look important and using bizarre office jargon. (“Keep it high-level”, “I just want the granular details”, “Hey bud! High five!”). A place where big money deals, important contracts are signed and…….snore snore snore.
If I look to my left I am overcome by an extremely neon green wall- a form of corporate torture (the narrator on the promotional video bleats: “Bright colours keep our employees motivated and contribute to our innovative and dynamic environment….”). But to my right, if I squint out the ugly hospital building, I can see Ben. He’s pretty amazing, always so punctual and such a formidable presence. Others call him Big Ben but as we’re neighbours, I’ve dispensed with the formality. He allows me to look out the window in deep, important business-stuff thought when actually I’m clock watching, continuously. Willing the boredom to end.
The London Eye sits nicely over my right shoulder. Whilst it’s quite a pleasant distraction (really doesn’t take much) it does make me question the sanity of 25 people entering a glass pod to look out at a more-often-than-not fog shrouded view for the sum of £21.20. It’s not fun till you get to the top and even then it is so slow. Giant pointless Ferris wheel, but lovely when illuminated by New Year’s Eve fireworks.
The murky Thames is also in my eye line. It can sometimes help to calm my irrational bouts of rage as my day invariably turn into an episode of The Office with no one actually realising it was a satire, not a script for real life.
It is an amazing view and I am privileged to have it. However I feel very much like a prisoner staring through the bars of my cell, marvelling at the world I could be a part of but stuck in an endless mist of business documents, meeting minutes, excel spreadsheets and sales patter. (In case I forgot to mention it, I tend to lean towards the overdramatic). So this blog, is my escape plan……..
These are the three points of my escape plan:
- Hand in notice to boring, awful, soul-destroying job.
- Pretend I am fabulous.
- Convince others of fabulousness and keep fingers, toes and eyes crossed.
This is a well thought out, over analysed and obsessed over plan as you can quite clearly tell. However there are obstacles. Mainly my lack of guts and continual to-ing and fro-ing. I fall asleep thinking that I will print off the letter of resignation and hand it in tomorrow. Yes. Definitely. 100%. I give myself motivating pep talks for all 20 stops of the morning commute. Yes, you can do it. To hell with the mortgage, bills, life, food……..then I get to the office. I sit down. I snarl. And start shiny box hell all over again.