Tag Archives: story

Going it alone.

One of the key steps of adulting, so I am lead to believe, is working out what makes you happy, and trying to do it on a regular basis. Something I have never understood is people who hate their jobs, not just people who dislike they jobs, or people who are bored in what they do, but fully hate going into the office or wherever everyday. it just doesn’t make sense to me, because most of us spend more time at work than anywhere else, so why on earth would you spend the majority of your life unhappy?!

I have, luckily, never been in that position. My previous job was tough, stressful and took it’s toll on me emotionally, but I still loved what I did and the people I worked with! The hard part about moving away and changing our lives so much, is the pressure I put on myself. I said the classic “this year is about me, I am going to get my shit together” OK, and so far, it’s not too bad, I have lost weight and found a love of exercise but my career is not going anywhere.

So this is what today’s little write up is about really, I want to start my own company. Since I can remember I have always wanted to work for myself, it is not that I think I can do it better than my previous managers, it’s just, I would do things differently.

I have the ideas, the name, the brand, the thoughts and the attitude to make it work, but you know what? I am scared. I need someone to hold my hand, tell me everything will be alright and that I am making the best decision, but no one will. I’m an adult now. Apparently.

So where does one begin? Is there a guide on this? I am working part-time at the moment, so that is perfect, but what is next? Crap. I thought I would be better at this. Hopefully I will get better, and as I do, hopefully this blog will be full of useful tips for the next generation on how they can start a business of their own.

Wish me luck.

 

*P.S. if you couldn’t have guessed these are my Easter leggings, I felt like an Easter egg wearing them too, so- winner.

The empty pit.

Since some of my posts are bound to be about my recent discovery of healthier foods and regular exercise I should probably give you a brief background into my less than healthy past. Up until January 27th 2016 I was a 17stone, eating machine with little understanding of the word cardio. (I would walk up a flight of stairs and be impressed with myself!)

I had made the decision that since we were moving house I would make changes in my personal life too, and getting healthier was top of the list. (New year, new me and all that malarchy*!)

I met up with a personal trainer and nutritionalist at a small gym and was inspired by his words. 3 months,over 2 stone and a new found love of working out later and here and I am. (There is plenty more to this story, but we have time for that)

Today’s feeling: hangrover. (Hungry, angry, hungover)

So my diet these days consists of mostly protein, with a sprinkling of green vegetables, and no carbs. (It works) Today however, it has consisted of carbs, carbs, sugar and a sprinkling of chocolate. This is down to one thing: the bottomless pit of a stomach I have when I have been drinking.

Look, I am a sensible girl, I have a strong will and have managed to avoid the unhealthy options for quite a while, but that means I have avoided my love of wine too. So when those flood gates were opened yesterday, there was no stopping.

12hours later and no amount of water will fill the void, so it’s cheesy carbs to the rescue. (Although, to be fair to me, you try and find a healthy scrambled eggs or no carb food at Manchester airport in a rush!) So here I am, on a plane home, instantly regretting the bad food I ate and tying to work out how I can rectify this in the gym.

Morale to this story, booze aren’t the enemy, but be prepared for the monster with no will power to be in control the day after. The guilt started the second I finished the muffin and will haunt me for days. Being healthy is hard, wine is easy.


*the word malarchy does not get enough credit and should be used more in modern culture. #malarchy

Perspective

I have just been travelling back to the Isle of Man (where I grew up) for a few days. Now, I hate travelling, I am sure there are many reasons for this… but today was a particularly bad experience. However, as with every experience in my life it was all very quickly put into perspective; and perspective, well, that’s something that hits you like a ton of bricks.

This particular morning, I woke up and in the pitch black walked to the toilet, barefoot (this fact is important) just before I reached the loo, I stepped in cat sick. (at this point I really should have realised how the rest of the day would turn out) I then went downstairs, still barefoot (I don’t really know why) and once again stepped in cat sick. (any cat lovers out there, please don’t be worried, my cats are just idiots who eat too much grass)

So following this vomit fest around my house, I was in a hurry to get to work and locked myself out of the house. (the back door was open, luckily) I went round, came inside, let myself through and left the house again- halfway to work and I realised I had left my breakfast shake in the front porch. At this point I was very aware that I had flights to catch that day so needed to leave plenty of time for everything that could possibly go wrong.

Luckily, work was fine and I got to the airport without a hitch. Once there however, I left my boarding pass on a seat, dropped coffee down myself and almost left my laptop in the lounge. After this quick barrage of things going wrong a squeezed myself into my seat and sat uncomfortably for the 45minute flight. Now, being a 6ft woman is hard in this world (as I type this, I am hunched over a table that is too low for me) but airplane seats and cinema seats are the WORSE.

This is where it happened, the most painful part of the day, physically and emotionally. As I stood up, I caught my bad* knee on the arm rest of the chair, perfect height for a 6footer. I thought I would throw up, or pass out the pain was horrific. Instead, I just started to cry, big baby tears, in front of the queue to get off the plane. I blubbed like I had a boo-boo.

As I sat waiting for my connecting flight, I was thinking how shitty my day had been, which leads to how shitty my week had been, which is never a good route to look down… why do we do it to ourselves? Start thinking about when are lives where better, or when was I last really happy? It’s all just self-pitying, most of us (and I say most, because of course there are exceptions) actually handle the everyday stresses and the hideous one off events in our lives well, it is only on reflection do we start to question if we handled it right, or if we could have done something different. One of my favourite things I have read is “Don’t look back, you are not going that way” and it is so true, I like to look back sometimes, but for the happy memories.

Anyway, I digress. After all of this self-pitying, thinking and reflection. I walked on the next plane and was sat with a row free in front. (please don’t be children, please don’t be children) Once the plane was full, a family came on, a family with two young girls, a baby strapped to the mother and young boy in a wheelchair with two braces on his legs. I made idol chitchat with the father, as he spoke though, he had this positivity that surrounded him. Somehow throughout the stress of the journey and the ailment of his son, he was positive, the mother as well, smiling and chatting away to her son and baby. The girls were unruly (what girls aren’t) but nobody particularly minded, you try sitting in a family of 5 on a 4 across plane! After some bribery with olives (for the kids, not me) the girls were fine, settled and happy.

It was about this point the ton of bricks hit me. Ouch. I mean, yes my knee hurt, and yes I had a bit of crappy day, but my life is NOT so bad. Now, please don’t get me wrong, I did not see the family and think “their life is awful, mine’s not so bad” that’s not it. What it made me think was, we are all capable of handling whatever life throws at us, we just need to find the strength.

And that’s what I intend to do, there will be crappy days and worse to come, but if we know that deep down we can handle it, then is it so bad?

Here’s to the better days.

 

*everyone has a bad knee, the one always sore, always a bit bruised and hurts when you go down the stairs

I think I might be crazy.

So, hi, this is potentially the 4th time I have attempted to write a “blog” so maybe 4th times the charm?

I think the reason I failed so many times before is that I was writing about one thing I was doing, rather than just writing about it all, every journey, every failure (a lot of them) and every adventure.

Lets start then. I should probably address the title of this post; *crazy is such a strong word, perhaps odd would have suited better* have you ever thought, I was meant for more?

Like Simba in the Lion King, I know there is something very important I am going to do with my life. When I was younger I thought – I want to be famous, when I was in my early twenties I thought- I want to be successful, and now I think I want to make a difference. That’s not to say those other feelings and thoughts have gone anywhere, I still want to be a famous actress/singer/lion tamer (I’ll take anything), and run my own hugely successful company (with 4 assistants, one who just gets me coffee) but now, I don’t want to just do it for me,  I want it to have meaning.

So I guess that’s about where you guys are joining me in my journey, in my late-twenties, with nothing much figured out, but an overwhelming feeling to do more.

I have very few people around me that are at the same point of life as me; I am married, no kids, 2 cats & a dog. We have all recently made the move from where I grew up to where my husband did and as a someone with no children (no school mums) and out of education (no school friends) it is really hard to make friends! (I am hoping this is something a lot of people find, and not just me?!) That is sort of how this blog idea started, I like to talk, as you may find out (if you have even gotten this far) and I was missing an outlet, so I created one – ta da!

For those wondering exactly what my posts will be about, and why on earth they should read it, I don’t have an answer. Although I can say, there will be talk about exercise and getting healthier, general musings about my often irritating positivity, a look into the journey that is my life and, most importantly me, Charli, attempting to adult.