I Quit

Literally. Last Thursday, I resigned at work. I have no new job lined up, but I've decided it's the right time to take a break, decorate the flat, relax and then find something new.

Things have just got crazy at work, what with their (underhanded) attempts to move the team to NY, my boss's departure for NY last Sept, and the continual flip-flop between no management and micro-management. So I decided to rescue my sanity and go.

A colleague, whose opinion I value greatly, told me that it upset him to see me broken into pieces every alternate day by the problems there. No-one had so graphically spelled out my experience there before then. He also told me that he thought I'd been subconsciously telling him that I'm going for months, but that I just hadn't admitted it to myself. So that night, I finally had the epiphany and quit the next day.

More news to come, but I figured this was worth a post. Still not sure what it all means, but it's good news. Scary, but good :-)

Doing it up, selling and moving on

I had a monumental moment of clarity early in the morning of 2nd January: After 12 years in this flat, I'm going to decorate, sell and move into somewhere rented as a stepping-stone to eventually buying somewhere new.

That simple. The moment I'd thought it, it sounded so attractive. The idea of not trying to sell and buy at the same time was also a weight off my mind. The chances of being able to find my next home (which is essentially what buying is) at the same time as having a buyer for this place, are unknown. The temptation to compromise either on the new place, or on the sale price of this place, could be immense.

There's a *lot* of DIY and decorating to do, and I've decided to do all of it bar the flooring (wood in the bedroom and new carpet in the hallway). Taking control of the decorating myself, and taking my time (3-6 months wouldn't be too bad) means I can get a decent finish and probably save several thousand pounds.

I bought a nice little delta sander; one of the ones with the triangular sanding head. This means I can speed up preparation, which is the part of decorating that I hate. I can strip old, thick, dripped paint off surfaces, treat what's underneath and then paint to get a nice finish.

There are also *many* hairline cracks, which need properly treating. In prior decorating stints, I just painted over them with a special hairline crack filler, but they always come back in 6-12 months. This time, I'll widen them slightly with a screwdriver, fill them properly, sand them down and then there's a better chance of a good finish.

Of-course, the second I'd decided to sell, the living room window (above which water safely pools and it has never leaked)... decided to leak. Thankfully, Alison the builder got up there and put a tarpaulin on it until they can repair it. It'll be an unknown sum of money, but they know I want to move, so we'll go for the 1-2 year solution, not the 10-15 year one.

But beyond the decorating, moving will assist me in kick-starting other areas of my life that have stagnated somewhat. Living in the same place for 12 years might mean I feel safe, but it also lulled me into a false sense of security and complacency. I need to step out onto the ledge again and risk a few things... which feels good, and moving will help.

There will of-course be many photos during the decorating, and I don't expect to be finished before summer!

"A story to live by"

by Ann Wells (Los Angeles Times)

My brother in law opened the bottom drawer of my sister's bureau and lifted out a tissue wrapped package.

"This," he said , "is not a slip. This is lingerie." He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip. It was exquisite with an astronomical figure on it still attached.

"Jan bought this the first time we went to New York, at least 8 or 9 years ago. She never wore it. She was saving it for a special occasion. Well I guess this is the occasion." He took the slip from me and put it on the bed with the other clothes we were taking to the undertaker.

His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment, then he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me:

'Don't ever save anything for a special occasion. Every day you're alive is a special occasion." I remembered those words through the funeral and the days that followed when I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad chores that follow an unexpected death. I thought about them on the plane returning to California from the Midwestern town where my sister's family lives. I thought about all the things that she hadn't seen or heard or done. I thought about the things that she had done without realising that they were special. I'm still thinking about his words, and they've changed my life.

I'm reading more and dusting less. I'm sitting on the deck and admiring the view without fussing about the weeds in the garden. I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time in committee meetings.

Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experience to savour, not endure.

I'm trying to recognise these moments now and cherish them. I'm not saving anything; we use our good china and crystal for every special event such as losing a pound, getting the sink unblocked,
the first camellia blossom. I wear my good blazer to the market if I like. My theory is if I look prosperous, I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag of groceries without wincing. I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties; clerks in hardware stores and cashiers in banks have noses that function as well as my party-going friends.

"Someday" and "One of these days" are losing grip on my vocabulary. If it's worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and experience it now.

I'm not sure what my sister would've done had she known that she wouldn't be here for the tomorrow we all take for granted. I think she would have called family members and a few close friends. She might have called a few former friends to apologise and mend fences for past squabbles. I like to think she would have gone out for a Chinese dinner, her favourite food.

I'm guessing - I'll never know. It's those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew that my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good friends whom I was going to get in touch with - someday. Angry because I hadn't written certain letters that I intended to write - one of these days. Angry and sorry that I didn't tell my husband and daughter often enough how much I truly love them.

I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back or save anything that would add laughter and lustre to our lives. And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special. Every day, every minute, every breath truly is a gift, that's why it's called the present.

Unbelievable

A month of illness! The cough continued, and turned into a chest/sinus infection, for which I'm taking antibiotics. I've been coughing out-of-control most nights, and it's been pretty worrying. Finally on the mend, but I still feel a bit feverish, so I'll be starting Body-for-Life on Monday 30th November, after I'm free from this cruddy illness and have had a proper chance to recover.

One thing being ill has done is to fire up my enthusiasm for starting Body-for-Life. There's nothing like being told you can't do something to make you want to do it more.

And now I'm going to take advantage of a relaxing Sunday in-doors, finish getting better and I'll be back in a week with an update.

Here goes, again...

So I think I'm recovered enough to re-start Week 1 of Body-for-Life. My stress levels aren't good, and I'm hoping this will take the edge off.

Just planned my Week 1 workouts and nutrition again, and now I wait for tomorrow morning :-)

Ill.... ugh!

So, Week 1 of the Body-for-Life challenge hasn't gone as planned, on account of this hacking cough getting worse and worse as the week progresses. So I've managed about two workouts, 4 days of the correct nutrition, and the rest was a wash-out.

What I'm going to do is continue on Monday, but call it Week 1 again and give myself the chance to create the proper start. This is a minor hiccup, and I want to correct it. Illness isn't something I can just workout/jog/whatever through, particularly not when I'm coughing my lungs up for around 2 hours each night.

Fingers crossed I get over this for Monday, as I actually enjoyed the workouts I did... strangely!

Ok, committing to it...

Seeing as the swine flu hasn't descended, and there's no knowing whether it will, I'm committing to doing the Body for Life thing over the next 12 weeks.

If I go back on this, feel free to mock me senseless. I need this challenge, rather like my carved pumpkin needs orthodontal work - LOL

I'll kick if all off on Monday, after getting on top of all the food prep and exercise regime. The similarity of the training plan with one I follwed a few years ago should help me to become familiar with it. I've also gone through periods eating the kinds of meals he recommends, so thinking of combinations will be fairly easy.

The hard part will be getting up first-thing, sticking to planned meals, and continuing when the going gets tough (which it will, around Tuesday next week, I predict!)

Here's hoping it's the start of something positive :-) There will be updates.... oh yes.