Bank holidays traumas, poems and a telephone interview

A medium dose of Monday morning gloom today so I’ve dosed up with Vitamin B pills and the De-stress ones too. Just in case. A girl can never have too many medicines. I am also facing the nightmare calculation about how many bank holidays and University days that I, as a part-timer, am allowed to take this holiday year. It’s such a trauma, I can tell you. Firstly, I’m not convinced we should have to pay for our bank holidays just because we’re not full-time – but I can’t be bothered to make a fuss which won’t have any effect. Sigh. Ah, the wisdom of age – Choose Your Battles. Anyway, after working out (with Andrea’s help and Ruth’s calculator) that if I were full-time, I’d have 25 holidays, 2 free days, 8 bank holidays and 7 University days – all of which need dividing by 0.6, thus making 25.2 in total, or less depending on whether I do or do not count the bank holidays which fall on Thursdays and Fridays, ie Good Friday, Boxing Day, Christmas Day and New Year’s Day which I can’t have as I don’t work on Thursdays or Fridays (usually) – are you keeping up at the back?? – then if I swing from a rope with a rose in my teeth I might owe the University 2 holidays, or not – thus bringing me to the point where I have given up entirely and asked HR if they can help. But, Lordy, there must be a better way of doing this. I don’t care how many bank holidays I have to work on – just don’t make me do the ruddy calculation!!! Finally – the University have broken me … ah, I always knew it would happen in the end.

Thank goodness things have been more civilised and manageable over lunchtime – when I minuted the Steering Group meeting. At last – something I understand. And it means I can switch my brain off this afternoon and just type things up. What a relief. Though actually it was quite complex stuff, dammit, so I might have to keep alert. Groan. Post-work, I shall face the excitements of the Tesco shop (groan) and then I’m looking forward to my telephone interview with Siobhan Curham this evening. Nice to think about writing matters after today’s traumas for sure. UPDATE: it was totally lovely. Thank you, Siobhan - and lovely to speak to you at last!

I’m also hoping to watch last night’s video of “The Wedding Date”. Heck, it’s all my brain can cope with right now. Ooh, and my Ego Wall replete with framed covers of all my novels is now up and running. As it were. Bliss. Inspiration for the next – I hope.

Oh, and while I think of it, there was an interesting article on dyspraxia in the weekend papers – all that stuff about no co-ordination and not being able to ride a bike etc etc. Well, there’s something I can relate to. I’ve never been able to ride a bike. Or whistle. Or swim. I also have serious (and I mean serious!) problems in, of all things, attempting to put purse & purchases in order after I’ve bought something at a till. I’m sure it’s getting worse as I get older too. My brain completely switches off and I have to think hard about simple things such as (a) where does my purse go? (b) where do my credit cards go? (c) where are my hat & gloves etc? (d) how do I get my purchases in a bag? and (e) how am I supposed to do all these things at the same ruddy time?? Honestly, sometimes, I resort to grabbing everything, once paid for, dumping it a few feet away from the stream of people, hunkering down and sorting everything out whilst muttering to myself. Other people who aren’t Lord H (he’s used to it by now) often get quite surprised. Not to mention impatient. Not that I can blame them, I suppose. But is it just me?? If there are other post-shopping challenged people out there, do tell – we can form a support group and wear a tee-shirt or something.

And here’s a poem:

Silence

The clocks drips silence into the wooden room.
Benches sigh, the air eases out.
At first you can't hear it
and the only sound is the whisper of beetles
as they scurry over the floor.

Then it happens -
a slow trickle of almost-meaning
easing past your skin.
Maybe it's been there for a while
but you haven't noticed
as your foot marks a metronome chant
and your mind falls to quiet.

When it comes
it's a full golden river sweeping past and over you,
taking you with it
to an invisible sea
where no time happens.

Later you walk to the car
and the singing salt glistens your body,
pulls you back to the earth
and remembers reflections of sky.



Today’s nice things:

1. Telephone interviews
2. The Ego Wall
3. Poetry.

Anne Brooke
Anne's website
Goldenford Publishers