Tag Archives: work

So long summer holiday…

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Sunset from the London Eye on my birthday last month…
…and yes that is the reflection of my camera on the capsule glass.

I was in Southern England this week. I’d had a stressful day on Monday, as a ton of forms came in from delegates for the conference I organise every year. I was super thankful that I was able to leave work a bit earlier so I could pick up my train tickets for the next morning and still have time to get to Guides without being too stressed. Realising that I would have to pack a suitcase when I got home.

Only to discover that the key for the church hall, which only comes out my bag to open and lock the church hall, was not in my bag. Cue frantic texting, phoning, turning my Mum’s car and our house upside down. No key. Me and the Guides stood outside when it of course began to rain while our Unit leader went down the list of keyholders to find no one in. Eventually someone at the other church hall gave us a key.

And if you wanted to make that 24 hours anymore stressful, there’s nothing worse than getting to your seat on the train – you know with the super-advance can only be used with that particular reservation ticket – to discover that the label on it says it’s reserved for passenger travelling from Newcastle. Confused, you look at your ticket and booking confirmation print out and realise that yes, you are the dumb person who has clicked for a ticket for Monday not Tuesday.

Somehow, I made it to my friend’s house in East London that evening, and very early on Wednesday morning we travelled to Hampshire for the first day of the college course I’m doing. The course has been created by a charity I have worked with as a volunteer for a few years now and accredited through the Open College Network. I didn’t realise though, what was going to be involved. I thought I was training to be a tutor. In fact, I’m doing the course I might one day be tutoring. They want to make the course available to other practitioners who support people trying to make decisions in the face of an unintended pregnancy – and soon. And so I’m now learning about moodle. I’m trying to wrap my head around the news that I’m going to be doing assignments every single week for the whole of this summer.

As I get older, I understand more of how I work and what makes me tick. I know that I’m an extravert and so I need to talk a lot of nonsense to process my thoughts, and unless I’m around people I don’t always get a lot of work done. I go a bit loopy if left in the office on my own (I hate being in the office on my own). It took me a whole year to realise that studying alone in my room doesn’t work – I need to be in a library surrounded by other people also studying with fixed social breaks to keep me going (my grades improved drastically as a result). I know that I need to have several projects on the go, because if there’s only one to focus on I don’t have enough stress to stop me procrastinating. Since having CFS, I’ve become a person that needs to plan in advance. Spontaneous stuff doesn’t always work for me, I like to know what’s going to happen, and when so I can plan ahead and prepare for a plan B just in case it doesn’t work out that way. I get lots done on Mondays because they are stressful, busy and I have that routine down now.

In my head, my summer was going to be pretty chilled out. School holidays. No Guides. A time to finally catch up with friends and take days off work to do some fun things. So the sudden discovery that 10 hours of each week is now going to be filled with this course was a shock to my system. I didn’t plan for that. HELP!

I know that I can do it, but I also know it’s going to take me a while to get my head around this new plan for the summer. A little bit of grieving time may be required, and perhaps it’s a good thing because in term time I might not be able to manage 10 hours a week (though granted, I’ve got very busy weeks ahead until the end of term, sooo um, nothing like being thrown in the deep end with no warning).

Come September, I’ll have another trip to London under my belt and I *hopefully* will have completed a A Level standard Open College Network course in Pregnancy Choices Practice. And passed. And then, perhaps it will be time to start my Adult Education tutoring qualification.

So if my blog goes quiet over the next few months, or you wonder why I’m writing non-sensical rubbish that no one really cares about…know that it’s probably because all my brain cells are getting a work out for the first time in many years!

An excited in anticipation koala…

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Man alive! I can’t believe all that is going on right now. After months of fighting SAD and numerous bugs in the last few days I’ve felt a real turn around. I’m waking up in the morning not feeling so horrible as I have done for months. I have a bit of energy. I’m feeling happy.

And now the busyness REALLY begins.

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve had some really exciting messages. Firstly, from the girl I shared a room with on my South Africa trip. My friend has been living in Nigeria for the last few years, and I hadn’t heard from her for ages. I actually worried that maybe she’d fallen out with me. I was totally praying about her, and like 2 weeks later I got a message on facebook from her saying she was going to be in Scotland in June and did I want to meet up? YES! We haven’t seen each other since we said goodbye to each other in Durban almost 4 years ago. I’m so excited to have the chance to catch up with her in person.

The next exciting message was that I had been chosen to be part of the first batch of people to be trained as tutors for a new pregnancy counselling qualification being written by an organisation I’ve worked with in the past. At first I thought it wasn’t going to be possible because it involved a trip to Basingstoke in a few weeks time. My work have agreed to help fund my travel, someone has given me a bed in London (no planes or 4 a.m. starts!) and it mercifully fell on a Wednesday which is NOT a Senior Section night. I do have to do another qualification which I’ll likely do through the local college (community college to my friends in USA) in the Autumn. I had thought I’d be able to get funding for the fees through the Scottish ILA (Individual Learning Account) scheme as I’m on such a low income. It turns out the rules have changed, and because I have a university degree I cannot get ILA funding. :(  So now I’m looking for another solution, but as everything has fallen into place so far, I’m hoping the rest of it will too. I’m also concerned that last year they did the evening classes on Wednesday evenings – which is a guiding night for me.

And the third exciting message was that I have the opportunity to attend the Christian Surfers Conference in Polzeath, Cornwall. Another thing I hope will fall into place, as my flat in Aberdeen is sucking a lot of money out my bank account this month, plus I’m booked on a counselling training day on the Thursday. And the last night of Guides is on the Monday we’d get back. The Edinburgh Soul Surfers crew look set to all be going and I’d hate to be the only one to miss out.

I’ve also been getting to meet some really cool people through something called Common Good Edinburgh. I was invited to be part of the group before Christmas, and met everyone for the first time in January. Part of my role is discovering stories of people who are finding creative solutions to the challenges of life for people in our city and its surrounding region. I’m not sure what I’m allowed to say and not say about everything, but you’ll know how much I love meeting new people, getting inspired and helping good things to happen! I’m learning loads being a part of it, and meeting people I wouldn’t meet in my usual walk of life.

And so that’s me. It’s so nice to be able to share this and not be moaning about being ill. I realise my blog has been quite neglected, but I guess I’ve been either in my sick bed or running about living life without having much time to sit down, reflect and write about it. I imagine come summer, I’ll have lots more to share too!

Things I learned in Fraserburgh…

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I got back from Fraserburgh this evening. Flip me, I’m tired, but what a lovely time! I think my favourite part of my job is getting to visit different places , encouraging the teams in centres and sharing stories. I’m kinda fed up hearing my own story, but I forget that the story of how I got into this work is new to other people. I forget the power of going first and allowing others to be liberated from their own stories of loss and the people that squashed their right to grieve. Or allowing others to realise how much their words of judgment can have a negative and paralysing affect on people.

At the end of last night, the two ladies who’d organised for us to come up said their thank yous to us, and they almost had me crying.

But the main thing I learned in Fraserburgh is this…

They mak fancy pieces, and they are affy fine!

The night before heading up to Fraserburgh, I was panicking that I’d forgotten my Doric (cue a question from a South African friend who asked me ‘Who’s Doric?‘ when I was expressing my concern regarding this which made me crack up with the giggles). Just so you know, Doric is not a person, but a dialect of Scots-English unique to the North East of Scotland. Thankfully, it came back to me quickly (and the ladies all spoke to us slowly so we could keep up)!

‘Fancy piece‘ is basically a phrase used to describe some scrumptious home baking – whether it’s a slice of chocolate caramel shortbread, a great slab of lemon and blueberry drizzle cake or a cupcake slathered in butter icing.

Well, the Brochers (people from Fraserburgh) are as I said great makers of fabulous cakes and bakes! And no sooner had you finished one ‘fancy piece‘ but you’d be offered another one because they are indeed, ‘affy fine‘.

I’ve seriously lost count of the number of cakes and tray bakes I’ve eaten in the last 24 hours, but I think my wardrobe could be at risk of me outgrowing it again as a result!

Until next time Fraserburgh – keep peckin awa’.

:)

The woes of Cassie the Corsa

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Earlier this summer, my friend and I talked about doing something we’ve wanted to do for years. Go to the Q conference. Our friends have gone every year since it started, and always came back so enthused with new ideas and buzzing with creativity. I always kinda said ‘next year I’m going to save and go’.

This time, it actually seemed like a genuine possibility. Next April, I have no commitments. No weddings. No study. No partners day scheduled yet. I finally have tenants in my flat. For the first time, my finances have been in a steady place. My Mum said she would like to come with me, and we talked of hiring a car and driving the Pacific Coast Highway. A dream of mine for a long time. Sharing the cost would make it plausible for me to go.

Then I discovered that the same week as Q, the NCAA women’s gymnastics championships would be at Pauley Pavilion (where the gymnasts at 1984 Summer Olympics competed) as it’s UCLA is hosting them next April.

It seemed like the stars were in alignment.

And then on Wednesday I went to the gym. I went across the evil speed bump (which I swear is gradually wrecking my already suffering car). Afterwards my friend and I got a sunbed, and as I parked my car I thought I could hear a really odd clunking noise. Today I realised there really is a clunking noise. Rattling every time I go through Edinburgh’s many potholes. I realise my car needs to go to the garage.

Actually, my car desperately needs to be replaced for a newer more reliable one.

And most likely, my dream of California is over before it’s even begun.

Now I’m real mad that I bothered to order my Lonely Planet guide that’s on its way to me from Amazon. I’m mad that I spent a summer having fun. I have those doubts creeping in about quitting my part-time job and getting a better paid full-time one (that pays me in a way to improve my credit rating!!)

As much as Cassie the Corsa and I have been on many adventures, this time I’m not upset at the thought of saying goodbye because I know that she can’t do the job I need her to be able to do anymore.

Next month I need to travel to Glasgow, Fraserburgh and Durham – I don’t think she’ll be getting me to any of these places.

If you’re the praying type – I’d love if you could send a few up for me. That travel would somehow be provided, and that I’d find a way to get money for a new car. :(

July is here

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…and that means THE OLYMPICS ARE THIS MONTH.

Over the weekend, there have been Olympic trials all over the world, and I’ve been trying to keep up to date as I get some tasks done.

I have a tenants for my flat in Aberdeen, so I’ve been trying to get the paperwork sorted for that as well as getting the repairs needed in the bathroom there. Thankfully a guy I grew up with is a decorator so he’s going to do what is needed which is fabulous (and means I get to help him by giving him some work – a win-win situation). However, I had no idea the amount of legislation that has come in recent years in Scotland re: to housing and renting. It’s actually quite terrifying and makes me very worried about how vulnerable it makes me as a Landlord. All the legislation is in favour of tenants, and I get that they need protection for crappy landlords, but Landlords also need protection from crappy tenants. A few years ago, my Mum rented out a flat and the tenants disappeared without paying bills and even changed the locks on her. Yet, tenants can now refuse to let Landlords keep a set of keys to the flat?!! I have never set out to make money from renting – I only ever charge what is absolutely necessary to cover costs of interest on mortgage, factoring and insurance. It came to my attention a few weeks ago that previous tenants seem to have wrecked an expensive office desk and either stolen or and chucked out 2 chest of drawers and a handheld vacuum ‘dustbuster’ in my own flat. I cannot afford to replace them right now, and I remember how hard I saved to get them in the first place. So frustrating.

Sorry, I didn’t really mean to have such a rant…

The financial strain of having to live with my mother, be worried about Landlord responsibilities and knowing that my beloved Cassie the Corsa is disintegrating at an alarming rate is hard to take at times. For sure, I’m in a better place at the moment than I’ve been for a long time – the fact that I’m managing to get to Cornwall for a holiday next week is testament to that – but I’m not in a good place overall. 5 years is a long time to live hand-to-mouth knowing you have a mortgage and student loan waiting to be paid off, and your car repairs are draining your funds. I’m extremely reluctant to so much as take out a loan to pay for a new car because I just do not want to be in debt again. I will have to take a payment plan out for my new lenses but there’s a big difference between £183 and £5000.

Gulp.

Always at this time of year, I think about whether to ditch the jobs I love to get a full-time ‘properly paid’ job. One where I got paid by BACS at the same time every month, would automatically start paying back my student loan, could get a decent credit rating to be able to sell my flat and maybe buy one I could actually live in! Maybe if I’m lucky I’d even be able to save up money to travel out the country once a year. Or start going to dance classes again.

Sunnnnssshiiinnnnneee!

And then the other part of me wants to slap me across the back of the head for thinking so ‘worldly’ and being so materialistic. And remind myself that I still have to take afternoon naps on the days I have to get up before 9 a.m. and that my health has never been so good since I decided not to try and continue being a full-time Community Education worker.

On that note, me and my thoughts should start tapering off so I can get some sleep for the next 3 days of work and ‘tasks to complete before I go on holiday’.

And pray to God that both parts of my swimsuit arrive by Wednesday. (yes, can you believe I had to get the top half on one online store, and the bottom half in another because no store could give me both halves?! Crazy.)

Bawling to the top…

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How did life go from this

to this

in the space of 24 hours?

To say this weekend was a tough one would be a wee bit of an understatement. A few weeks ago, I wrote an ‘ode to a normal week‘. I realised later that building a campfire twice in 7 days and arriving at my friends’ house at 11 p.m covered in melted slug, mud and charcoal stinking of campfire smoke so we could get up at the crack of dawn to watch people running through the streets carrying a flaming torch is not particularly ‘normal’. Or restful!

I said this to two of our volunteers last week as we painted things and waited for carpet fitters and furniture deliveries.

‘Sounds like a normal week in the world of Laura Anne though‘ they said.

I realise that not an awful lot of things in my life are particularly average or ‘normal’. It’s maybe why I find it difficult to fit in with other people and often struggle with feeling really isolated and alone in this crazy world.

I had a fabulous time on Saturday night in ‘Hawaii’ celebrating a friend’s birthday. There were lots of people I hadn’t seen in a while there, many from my old church. A lot of them asked about my work – was I still there? How was it going? Was I getting support from people in my new church for what I do?

Maybe it was what began to set me off. All I know is one minor thing at church on Sunday morning and I felt the tears welling up. I got up and walked out, went to my car and just started bawling my eyes out.

Turns out, it would be a theme for the day.

I went to work, knowing that things in our refurbishment project hadn’t quite gone to plan on the day I wasn’t there. I was in no way prepared for what I walked into and it induced a great deal more tears. Oh, and a flare up of my old RSI injury. I was upset, frustrated, angry and feeling a bit hopeless. Truthfully, I was exhausted and feeling really oversensitive and I had no idea why!

Eventually I came home, getting some food from my favourite Italian takeaway en route, and then found out the news about Sheree. (More tears). Curled up in my duvet feeling drained, sad and in a small bit of pain and discomfort I wondered what I was doing with my life.

Today though, seeing all the pain and stress as the hard work came together and saw how encouraged people were to see the massive difference in the look and feel of our centre…made it all worth it.

And I remembered why on the nights I was packing our centre into boxes at 8.30 p.m. with Sarah, or the Saturday I was getting high on paint fumes thinking how I’d have to do a 5 hour round trip to fulfil my property owner responsibilities the next day, the bank holiday where we were clearing paint off the floor and trying to make everything functional…I had to keep saying to myself ‘It’s all going to be worth it in the end‘.

What I told myself was right.

My job isn’t just a job because I love what I do. I’ve had to sacrifice a lot of comforts to continue doing it, but seeing the culmination of 4 years of dreaming…is incredible.

And thank you – because honestly without my online friends who have encouraged me, cheered me up, prayed for us and even given financially to us, I think I’d have thrown myself into the Water of Leith by now! It’s meant so much to know that there are people who have my back and ‘get it’ and accept me for the slightly crazy person I am! ;)

A tale of malteser moments

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Even now I’m ‘blonde’ I still call them that. Oh man people, I had a rather more eventful evening last night than I planned.

The day started so well too. Our Guides were having their sports night  at the Trefoil Campsite on Monday evening. I was to be in charge of building a campfire for the purposes of toasting marshmallows on. I knew I’d have to be there early. So I was prepared. I drove my car to Murrayfield area in the morning (so I could stop off at Chinese takeaway on way home which I preorder while on the bus!) and miraculously on the street where the airport bus stop is there was one Cassie-sized parking space left. As I walked down the street I saw the airlink bus go past. I thought I’d missed it. Amazingly it had stopped at the stop and was sitting there.

That NEVER happens.

I thought to myself ‘wow, this is going to be an amazing day – things are going so smoothly‘

WRONG!

The centre was MENTAL that morning like Oxford Street on a Saturday before Christmas. Sarah suggested I leave early so I could get home earlier, which I did since the centre was covered. I strolled off to Waverley Station to catch the airport bus back to my car. My Dad called me, the bus departed and as soon as we hung up my phone rang again.

It was Sarah.

“You’ve left your keys – like…all of them…in the office“

CRRAAAAAAPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!

At this point I’m sitting in a tramwork jam on George Street. I’m on the airport bus, which is limited stop and at this point am sooo thankful I’m not almost home already. I jump off at the first of its stops (West End) and start speed walking through the tourists along Princes Street to meet Sarah to get my keys.

We meet back at Waverley. We laugh, I thank Sarah, say goodbye, I see the next airport bus about to leave, run towards it…

Trip up and twist my ankle.

Awesome.

By this point it’s 6.30 p.m. and I have 30 mins to get to Trefoil.

I get my car and drive as quickly as I can to my house – skipping the stop at the Chinese takeaway I’d planned – to get my guide jumper (flung over my clothes – no changing into jeans), make some toast, fill a flask with water and rifle through our recycling box for cardboard to use as kindling for the campfire.

‘uhhh, this cardboard is dripping wet‘ I exclaim, thinking it’s because it’s got soaked somehow.

And then I realise. It’s not the cardboard – it’s my flask of water which has soaked my sleeve, hoodie and is dripping down my arm and leg.

I race to Trefoil, and realise as I change into my socks and wellies, that my socks were in the pouch of my hoodie and are soggy from my water flask accident.

Thankful to have made it, the rest of the evening went fine despite finding a dead animal carcass on the grass,breaking two fingernails with a log covered in slugs and finding a frog (or a toad?) in the woodpile. And struggling to get a fire going with damp wood from the weekend of monsoon style winter rain. :)

Ahh well.

Now I have short nails, clean hair, a pile of clothes in my laundry basket (it was muddy even if it didn’t rain yesterday) and today I watched a couple of tourist stare at Calton Hill/Waverley Station and say ‘That must be the Parliament building‘.

Errrrmmmm? (no)

Ode to a ‘normal’ week

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I feel like I can breathe a little bit this week. The last 5 weeks have been pretty full-on and stressful both at work, and at home. I was (not so) secretly pleased when I realised that I was going to have a house to myself last week for a few days. 

On Thursday, I took a day off work to go on a spa day with one of my best friends, Carrie. I’ve always wanted to do this, so earlier this year I suggested the two of us look out for a deal on a spa day as a birthday treat. The week of my birthday one came up and we managed to get a voucher for one in central Edinburgh. This week we were finally able to get our schedules compatible to use it!

After all the crazyness of work (broken locks, no internet for 3 weeks in our office & decorating palava!) the day off to just chill out was much appreciated. I knew this weekend was going to be busy too trying to fit in Powerpoint, visiting some of our Guides at their first Guide Camp, a friend’s birthday and Miss Sweetroot’s first ever highland dancing show. The only thing I will say is that I noticed how difficult I found it to relax. My mind is struggling to take a break as even when I physically stop, my brain seems to  keep going mentally. Even when I sleep! 

Because of all the abnormal events at work, there is a lot to catch up on still (though I thankfully managed to get a good start on the days I was in last week) but I feel pretty chilled knowing I’m heading into a more ‘normal’ week. I’m also super excited for tomorrow night as our Guides get presented with their prize for their Bake A Little Love fundraising efforts. 

Over the next few weeks it’s all going to be about tying up things to a good ‘pause’ point as we reach the end of school year at the end of June, and I’ll be heading down to Bristol to meet up with my friend Ruth on 5th July…and then we’ll be heading to the North shores of Cornwall for a week’s holiday. This will be the first full week long holiday I’ve had since October 2009. I’m looking forward to beaches and reading and great conversation with fabulous people I’m sharing a holiday home with! Not to mention making lots of fun memories. 

I know that over the summer there is a lot I need to mull over and pray about. A great opportunity that I’ve been hoping for has come up, and if it all works out, then it means resigning from some other commitments and making some tough decisions. We shall see what happens over the next couple of months…

Meanwhile I’m heading off into a ‘normal’ week.

While I’ve been offline…

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…I’ve been painting.

So I leave home trying to avoid the wet paint in our house, to go to work…to paint our centre. Stage 1 complete (painting our office, hall, toilets & main counselling room).

On Thursday I painted barefoot. Today I wore socks. Apparently wearing socks makes no difference to the amount of paint that ends up on my feet. At least I can say that no paint ended up on my tattoo (or in my hair)!

Lots of carnage in our workplace now, so on Monday (our one non-religious bank holiday – sob!) we need to go in to put our office & counselling room back together and see if the new modem we’ve been sent works (our office has been without internet for almost 3 weeks now).

So while I have been online more at home, I’ve also been having to do a lot of work in evenings and weekends whenever I get the chance. Which is a shame because I’ve had lots to blog about, but no mental energy to do so!

Tomorrow, I head up to Aberdeen to do an inventory on my flat in the hope that a new tenant to replace the one that leaves today arrives soon!

In the meantime, I’m off to scrub at my hands, neck, face and feet to see if I can look less of a bohemian style clarty lassie.