Saturday 29 September 2012

Going Viral

I've come down with a virus.  It happens to us all but I can't help moaning that of all the bodies in all the world why this virus should walk into mine (with apologies to Humphrey Bogart).  And at a time like this.  You see, I am going to Spain for three weeks next weekend.  Hooray.  Sunshine and warmth to give me a boost for the winter.  And now this - sore throat, dry cough, and streaming eyes and nose. Worse still, the doc. says there's nothing much he can do to help, it will have to take its course which is on a scale of ten to fourteen days.  That means I could be viewing the blue Mediterranean through very bloodshot eyes or poking about in my paella with a paper tissue poised near my nose.  I suppose I'll have to sneeze and bear it.

Last night I gave up the unequal battle of breathing through my right nostril while mopping up my left one and fielding the constant flow from my left eye at the same time.  I turned on the radio and found a station which plays music all night.  Relaxing, beautiful music for the most part.  Music to doze off to and wake again thinking "oh, this is nice."  I sent several cyber-telepathic messages to the DJ in the hope he would intercept my request for Andy Williams singing Moon River which would have just about made my extremely long and sleepless night. Alas we were not on the same cyber wave length. Pity but there you go.

My blog will not be updated until the end of October when I hope to tell you all about my time in Spain. 
Until then, here's looking at you!

Saturday 22 September 2012

One size doesn't fit all

A good few years ago I went in for all sorts of training courses, some of them suggested and paid for by my employer at the time. In particular, I recall that two warring departments were frogmarched onto a course on effective communication facilitated by an energetic lady who seemed to think that we were all a menace to society in general. 'Say something positive to the person next to you,' she challenged.  I was first in line and all eyes were upon me.  Now it just so happened that the person sitting next to me was a colleague with whom I'd had rather a nasty spat the week before. Some very bitter words had been exchanged and we were both convinced that a) we were in the right and b) the other person was a thoroughly nasty piece of goods.  What could I say to her that would be acceptable?  I still remember the panic that swamped me, the overwhelming desire to get up and run.  But there was no escape.  In the end I think I admired the blouse she was wearing. The facilitator's chilly eye fell on me and I knew she was classifying me as "not a team player." 
And that's sometimes the trouble with these kind of courses.  Some facilitators, not all I hasten to add, have very definite ideas on how one should behave in certain circumstances.  One size doesn't fit all, though, as I learned to my cost many moons ago.  A friend of mine dragged me to a course on self-assertiveness which she reckoned I badly needed because she said I was inclined to get lumbered with extra work. 'Learn when to say no,' said the lady holding the course. It all sounded easy so I decided to put what I'd learned into practice next time my boss came and asked if I could do something over and above my workload.  I can't remember what he wanted done now, but the details don't matter.  I told him politely and regretfully that I was simply too busy.  He accepted this immediately and I felt the first flush of triumph at having taken a stand.  I should have done this long ago, I told myself.  And then came the downside.  My boss never again asked me to take on any extra work and when a promotion to team leader came up, I was bypassed, being too busy to be given extra duties, no doubt.
Lesson learned for me is that what works in one situation is by no means sure of success in another.  At some stage I decided to use my gut feeling and a bit of commonsense and this has carried me through the rest of my career without too many blips.  Maybe that's the secret, maybe we shouldn't try to be what we are patently not. Recognizing our weaknesses is a major step on the way to coping with them but we shouldn't overdo it. Should I have accepted more work from my boss all those years ago and maybe been promoted to team leader?  I really don't know and when I think about it now, it doesn't really matter, does it?

Friday 14 September 2012

Goodbye Lady Nicotine

I was a chain smoker.  I'd tried to stop more times than a politician talks about austerity. I remember once doing really well for a week and then a colleague brought me 200 duty frees and I thought what a shame to waste them and hey presto I was back to where I started.

Of course I read all those horror stories about what smoking does to you.  Then I stopped reading about it.  Sure I had a cough, sure I had no control over my smoking and would still do it even when smothered with a cold.  But nothing was going to happen to me.  So I reasoned.

One day at work a colleague gave me the Alan Carr book on how to stop smoking.  I skimmed through it, not really wanting to read it.  I just wasn't ready to give up yet.  So I gave her back the book after ten days and she'd started smoking again by then so I figured it couldn't be that effective.

Eight years ago while prowling round the bookshops on holiday I came across Alan Carr's Easy Way to Stop Smoking again.  It was actually on special offer so I just bought it, thinking I'd have another look at it some time.  Back home I put it in the furthest corner of the bookcase where I wouldn't see it. I already worked in a no-smoking building and had to nip down four flights of stairs in order to have a cigarette and as I had a busy job I sometimes didn't get to smoke more than two or three cigarettes during the day. At home I had long ago taken to smoking outside regardless of the weather.  In all I smoked between ten to fifteen cigarettes a day and I couldn't stop.  Yet Alan Carr's book bothered me.  I was very conscious of it there in the book case.  One day I took it out and skimmed through the first few pages.  Glowing stories of people who stopped smoking with no side effects did not impress me much but then I came to the chapter headed Warning.  I can't remember the exact wording but I know he wrote that maybe the reader was scared to read on in case they had to stop smoking immediately. He said to keep smoking while reading the book. Suddenly I felt that here was someone who knew what smokers were all about, someone who understood that panicky what-am-I-going-to-do-without-a-cigarette feeling.  And I started reading the book.

That was over eight years ago.  I haven't smoked since.  I remember that when I finished the book I still had three cigarettes left and I decided that when I had smoked them, that was it.  I smoked my last cigarette at around one p.m. on a Saturday. I still recall the sense of finality, of being finally free.  My family didn't notice that I'd stopped.  I wasn't bad tempered. I didn't feel any of the usual withdrawal symptoms.  Sure, it felt a bit strange at first.  Something was missing, especially after a meal or when having a coffee with the girls,  but not so badly missing that I wanted to smoke again.  In fact whenever I thought about smoking I remembered what I'd learned in Carr's book.  Nearly everyone would like to stop but they are afraid of that empty feeling. Carr's idea was to take that fear away and he certainly succeeded in my case!

So Goodbye Lady Nicotine. We had a time of it but I sure don't miss you!



Saturday 8 September 2012

Good Hair Days

I've been following the US election conventions and I have a question :  do you have to be blonde and wear a red dress in order to be a politician's wife?  Seems that way sometimes. Take Ann Romney, mother and grandmother, shoulder length blonde hair, no noticeable wrinkles, and wearing a stunning red dress at the Republican convention in Tampa.  Jenna Ryan, long blonde hair, admittedly not wearing a red dress this time but I'm sure it''ll come, and of course there's Jill Biden, wife of the vice president with her shoulder length blonde hair who likes to wear red,too.  Even Michelle Obama's dress was of a red shade when she gave that rousing speech. Right or wrong, a red dress seems to signify power and success.

What does that mean for us non-political mortals who have passed our prime and are in the state of grandmother-hood?  Are we lesser women because we're a teeny bit overweight, fighting the grey hairs and don't own a red dress between us?  I think the answer is we are just as feminine as the Ann Romney's and Jill Biden's of this world.  It's not how you look but how you act that makes you the person you are and thank goodness for that!

In case we are tempted to get discouraged by so much glamour and so many trim waists, let's think about this politician's wife scenario. Ann Romney and Michelle Obama have both been highly praised for their speeches in support of their husbands.  They may even swing the vote in undecided states. Awesome thought, isn't it?  Is there some lesson to be learned here for us non-political mortals?  Should we accompany our husbands to a job interview, insist on going into the interview room first to tell the prospective employers what a great job he's done and how essential he'd be to their company if they take him on? Not a good idea is it? Of course, they might try to hire us instead of him!  Let's be thankful we don't have to champion our better halves and sing their praises to thousands of people. We'll just soldier on, doing the best we can whether we are blonde, brunette or just plain grey. And wearing red whenever we feel like it.