Good Morning!
(or is it?)
Woke up this morning feeling great!
(woke up this morning tired and hungover)
Drove into work with the radio on, singing along to my favourite songs...
(Oh Great! Another boring day at the Grindstone)
...knowing that I was going to be helping people today...
(why can't these people just remember their passwords? It's not rocket science!)
...and the Sun is Shining :)
(and to cap it all, it's a lovely day out there and I'm stuck in here all day).
Got to work, put the coffee on... deep breath, ah nice! Ready to GO!
(why is it always me has to put the coffee on? Why can't someone else do it for a change?)
First caller of the day's so glad I sorted her IT problem out, now she feels happy, so I'm happy.
(I'm so sick of people ringing about their stupid problems! Waste of my time!)
Next caller is so grateful that I could help him, he emailed my boss to say I did a great job! Wow!!
(all I did was sigh, you'd think I swore at the caller. I don't deserve a complaint for just sighing ffs)
Go for a walk in the sunshine at lunchtime...
(sit at my desk watching YouTube, but the phone keeps ringing...)
...and return refreshed, ready for the afternoon's work!
(grumpier than ever because I've not had a chance to have a break yet)
Work through my workload steadily, prioritised so the important stuff gets done first.
(can't be bothered, waste of time, what's the point)
Get home, hug family, welcome kisses, happy dog - tail wagging.
(ah home at last! Boy have I had a shit day! Get outta my way Rex! Stupid dog!)
Cook something nice for our dinner - I love cooking, providing tasty food for my family!
(why do I have to cook? Been at work all day. Ah what the hell, fast-food'll do for tonight)
Sit with my family and watch a movie together, kids are messing about, we're all laughing about it.
(guts feel awful - bloated and uncomfortable. Shut up ffs, I'm trying to watch TV!)
Off to bed, nicely tired - I've had a good day!
(Think I'll just have another large one before the late night film ends)
Friday, 19 August 2016
Thursday, 30 June 2016
Out of Sight, Out of Mind...
Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.
It's been two months and three days since my last post!
It's so easy to forget to do devote the time to writing when there are other things going on. Work, cooking, helping my wife with her business, gardening, shopping, watching TV.
But there's no real excuse for letting your discipline slide. It's not laziness. It's distraction, and a little bit of forgetfulness, with a smidgen of dreaded "what should I write about?" thrown in for good measure.
But I really like writing. Even if what I write is never seen by another soul (although I'd much prefer it if it were) I write it anyway.
I keep a journal - A5 plain paper notebook (nu: elite) and in it I write how I'm feeling, what I'm doing, To Do lists, I paste in tickets and labels of things I like - wine and whiskey mainly! I'll add pictures that inspire me, quotes and my own doodles, drawings and sketches. The occasional photograph, stamps, a bit of ribbon or a luggage label, Post-It note, whatever.
The only person likely to ever read it is my (currently 10 years old) daughter - when she's older. So I write it for her I suppose. A constant record of who I am, what I like,how I feel about my home, my family, my work, my life.
My parents died when I was 6 - A part of me wishes I knew them better. Not something my daughter will ever have to worry about! My Journals, my Blog, My Facebook account. I created her an email account when she was a few years old so that I could create her a FB account (so that we can tag her to stuff, build up her timeline), and so I email her every now and then - just to say I love you, or I'm thinking about you, or maybe some fatherly advice.
She doesn't have access to it yet, nor can she log into her Facebook account yet. It's all there for when she's older.
I have also kept a Word document going since she was born - an ongoing diary of being a first time parent - but it records everything. Her first clap, first laugh, first word, first steps. Her likes and dislikes, what she's reading, watching on TV Her favourite foods, toys, friends. And how I feel - happy, sad, exhausted, frustrated, confused, ecstatic, proud, elated. I'm sure she'll find it handy when she has her first child?
As I said, I really like writing. I might never get published, or read outside of a very small audience, but I don't write for recognition or fame or wealth. I write because I enjoy it.
Full stop.
Three Hail Mary's and I'll be fine.
Thank you for reading this! You might also like:
http://collywobs.blogspot.co.uk/2017/05/writing.html
It's been two months and three days since my last post!
It's so easy to forget to do devote the time to writing when there are other things going on. Work, cooking, helping my wife with her business, gardening, shopping, watching TV.
But there's no real excuse for letting your discipline slide. It's not laziness. It's distraction, and a little bit of forgetfulness, with a smidgen of dreaded "what should I write about?" thrown in for good measure.
But I really like writing. Even if what I write is never seen by another soul (although I'd much prefer it if it were) I write it anyway.
I keep a journal - A5 plain paper notebook (nu: elite) and in it I write how I'm feeling, what I'm doing, To Do lists, I paste in tickets and labels of things I like - wine and whiskey mainly! I'll add pictures that inspire me, quotes and my own doodles, drawings and sketches. The occasional photograph, stamps, a bit of ribbon or a luggage label, Post-It note, whatever.
The only person likely to ever read it is my (currently 10 years old) daughter - when she's older. So I write it for her I suppose. A constant record of who I am, what I like,how I feel about my home, my family, my work, my life.
My parents died when I was 6 - A part of me wishes I knew them better. Not something my daughter will ever have to worry about! My Journals, my Blog, My Facebook account. I created her an email account when she was a few years old so that I could create her a FB account (so that we can tag her to stuff, build up her timeline), and so I email her every now and then - just to say I love you, or I'm thinking about you, or maybe some fatherly advice.
She doesn't have access to it yet, nor can she log into her Facebook account yet. It's all there for when she's older.
I have also kept a Word document going since she was born - an ongoing diary of being a first time parent - but it records everything. Her first clap, first laugh, first word, first steps. Her likes and dislikes, what she's reading, watching on TV Her favourite foods, toys, friends. And how I feel - happy, sad, exhausted, frustrated, confused, ecstatic, proud, elated. I'm sure she'll find it handy when she has her first child?
As I said, I really like writing. I might never get published, or read outside of a very small audience, but I don't write for recognition or fame or wealth. I write because I enjoy it.
Full stop.
Three Hail Mary's and I'll be fine.
Thank you for reading this! You might also like:
http://collywobs.blogspot.co.uk/2017/05/writing.html
Tuesday, 15 March 2016
Respect - The keystone to life?
I was walking my dog the other day, and stood aside to let a college girl past us. She said a very polite thank you.
Just then a group of three student lads passed by, rowdy, full of it - cocky in their youth.
I then dipped into an entirely imaginary scenario where the lads started teasing the girl, calling her names, wolf-whistles etc. I had experienced this sort of behavior loads of times in London, which is probably why I was expecting it.
In my imagined scenario, I challenge the behavior, stand up for the girl. I am noble and courageous - their youth and numbers do not intimidate me.
As I continue to walk home I develop my speech, refine it, hone it, until to me it becomes worthy of a Shakespearean soliloquy! Now, I know all this might seem a bit pointless, recording this here now - but in fact the message is possibly worth sharing. It's all about respect.
In my imagined confrontation, I suggest the lads leave the girl alone. I tell them that whatever they may think of the girl, or know about her, their behavior is unacceptable. I suffer the usual taunts of "who are you? Her granddad?" and so on - which I bear with unflinching stoicism. My retort is not meant to me antagonistic nor unkind.
I reply that despite what they may think of her, they should still treat her with a little respect. If they did that, then I would have more respect for them, and if that were so, I would hope they would have a little respect for me.
I go on to explain that education, intelligence and being clever isn't always all it is cracked up to be. That having a degree does not guarantee a future, that attaining a diploma, without a hint of humility or respect does not mean you'll get a job.
I give an example of where, at a recent job interview I had to decide between two candidates - one that had qualifications coming out of his ears but was arrogant about it, and one that had less education, but showed respect and humility. I'd be far more inclined to employ the latter - i said.
Respect encourages forgiveness, it fosters good relations, and increases the chances of greater opportunities. No one likes a smart-arse. No matter how qualified you are, how talented - interpersonal skills are equally as important.
By the time I got home and the dog was curled up in his bed, satisfied by his wanderings, I had put the whole world to rights!
I believe this to be true. You can be the best qualified person for a role, highly skilled, completely competent, and possibly the person who should be chosen - but if your attitude stinks, if you fail to show some respect, you may find that door closing in your face.
Just then a group of three student lads passed by, rowdy, full of it - cocky in their youth.
I then dipped into an entirely imaginary scenario where the lads started teasing the girl, calling her names, wolf-whistles etc. I had experienced this sort of behavior loads of times in London, which is probably why I was expecting it.
In my imagined scenario, I challenge the behavior, stand up for the girl. I am noble and courageous - their youth and numbers do not intimidate me.
As I continue to walk home I develop my speech, refine it, hone it, until to me it becomes worthy of a Shakespearean soliloquy! Now, I know all this might seem a bit pointless, recording this here now - but in fact the message is possibly worth sharing. It's all about respect.
In my imagined confrontation, I suggest the lads leave the girl alone. I tell them that whatever they may think of the girl, or know about her, their behavior is unacceptable. I suffer the usual taunts of "who are you? Her granddad?" and so on - which I bear with unflinching stoicism. My retort is not meant to me antagonistic nor unkind.
I reply that despite what they may think of her, they should still treat her with a little respect. If they did that, then I would have more respect for them, and if that were so, I would hope they would have a little respect for me.
I go on to explain that education, intelligence and being clever isn't always all it is cracked up to be. That having a degree does not guarantee a future, that attaining a diploma, without a hint of humility or respect does not mean you'll get a job.
I give an example of where, at a recent job interview I had to decide between two candidates - one that had qualifications coming out of his ears but was arrogant about it, and one that had less education, but showed respect and humility. I'd be far more inclined to employ the latter - i said.
Respect encourages forgiveness, it fosters good relations, and increases the chances of greater opportunities. No one likes a smart-arse. No matter how qualified you are, how talented - interpersonal skills are equally as important.
By the time I got home and the dog was curled up in his bed, satisfied by his wanderings, I had put the whole world to rights!
I believe this to be true. You can be the best qualified person for a role, highly skilled, completely competent, and possibly the person who should be chosen - but if your attitude stinks, if you fail to show some respect, you may find that door closing in your face.
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