Stress Bunny

Don't you wish you had a PA that could handle all of the stress in your life? The last few days have been a huge test. Nothing spectacularly horrible has happened, but a lot of little things have added up and ended in tears more than once. I think it's a natural part of some sort of life cycle - that every now and then, no matter how big or small, everything will get to be a bit too much.

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First of all, packing is a nightmare. I have a very full house and no room to put the piles of 'Packed', 'To Pack', 'To Sell' and 'To Throw Out'. The piles are well and truly merged and the disaster zone I now live in is well and truly impacting on my nerves. I need to live in an uncluttered environment to be able to think straight and function. I'm not over the top about it - I'll happily accept organised chaos. Days worth of dishes, spilt dinner left by anonymous beings on the stove for me to clean up when I get fed up enough and washing piles everywhere are not organised chaos. The sleeping bags we bought for Europe that won't go back in their damn bags and are unlikely to ever leave the country as a result are not organised chaos. I don't have money for anymore damn sleeping bags.

If I had a spare hour where I didn't have to do the groceries or the dishes or make lunch or do nails, and if that spare hour was prior to 10pm (when I may be awake but I am certainly not functioning) I'd be able to get on top of it so easily. I crave that spare hour. All of you parents, don't you dare say 'Wait until you have children'. I get it.

Next there was the Bike vs. Scooter incident. Like a fight in the playground, workers rallied around us in the lunchroom asking if it was really true and what happened. Letter openers and keys were offered by several staff members but of course not accepted, however tempting. I find it easier to be calm when Courtney isn't, because I know one of us has to be. I do love a challenge, and there's no way I'll succeed at keeping his head straight if I'm fueling the fury. This was a hard one though.

The most stressful part though, was after the Building Manager had emailed all of the businesses in our building and left a note on the scooter to contact him to no avail. We had started parking elsewhere - and so had the scooter. Guilty much? I just wanted to replace the mirrors and move on. My darling Long Haired Boy though had other ideas, hoping that a quiet word with the faceless scooter owner would produce a wad of cash. Outside the heat of the moment he apparently only wanted to use the promise of not-calling-the-police to coerce this payment but I can't help thinking that if they're nuts enough to snap a mirror off for no reason, they won't think twice about revenge if they don't like being confronted. I just want to buy some new mirrors and count our losses.

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Besides all this drama, I was still dealing with work. We all know I love my job - generally speaking - but under all of the pressure of packing and bikes, taking a class on half way through their course was a test and a half. Every class has favourite students and challenging students. Every class has a new set of questions and learning styles. I just think the questions were amplified when so many were about things that should have already been covered. By many accounts they had been, but without the luxury of 'remember when I said...' it was harder than normal to answer them. I had to give full explanations instead, because I had no idea if they knew what I was talking about.

I ended up stopping class altogether. The room had been left a mess with chip packets and cups left from the previous week. I couldn't handle the mess at home and work so first things first, we cleaned. We then went through the entire course to date in the fastest way possible and identified knowledge gaps and a few parts that had been left till later but forgotten when the trainer changed. I felt better, we moved on, but it wasn't a highlight of my week.

When I'm in training, I don't really have time for breaks. I don't mind, the days go faster and I eat on the run. On Wednesday though, a break was unavoidable. The 'To Sell' pile at home decreased as a number of auctions closed. I have a notebook dedicated just to trying to keep track of purchases, delivery addresses and received payments in a poor attempt to stop them getting on top of me. On Wednesday a trip to the Post Office couldn't be put off any longer but it meant a super fast walk there to wait in the super long queue and then a super fast walk back to get into training before the trainees. I didn't have time to stop and the second I got back everyone had questions including non-trainees coming to see me all afternoon about another part of my job. Despite the aforementioned lack of children in my life I felt like I had several metaphorical offspring all tugging on my shirt saying 'Mum? Mum? Mum! Mum!'.

(As an aside, a big HELLO! to the man who bought my park bench and said to Courtney's sister 'Are you into blogging as well?'. It's nice to know that putting the web address in my email signature is paying off, thank you for joining us!)

I stay behind and work on the phones until Courtney finishes his shift and that same night I had a trainee sat at the desk next to me doing the same. He was the only one that elected to stay behind so I let him take calls solo and I helped him when I could. His last call turned sour when a customer wouldn't accept that another department was closed for the day and that she wouldn't have the service she wanted until the next day. I offered to take it from him after he made a wholehearted and commendable attempt to handle it himself but it didn't go down well.

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I didn't handle it the absolute best could have but I certainly didn't do a bad job. I could have been more empathetic but I was tired and the customer was especially keen on venting her frustration. I gave her all the information I could. Had I said it more apologetically she may have been fine but she wouldn't listen. Eventually I told her she was talking to the wrong person and that I couldn't help her. Fullstop. She then proceeded to tell me I should be ashamed of myself, mortified with my 'behaviour', not dare to call myself 'customer service' and that I should get a clue and get a life! That was the last thing she said before hanging up in my ear. I didn't deserve it, I know I didn't deserve it. I am good at my job and good at dealing with angry customers. I just couldn't tell her what she wanted to hear. I'm sorry lady, and I promise I will remember you next time I'm tired and can't be bothered with undeserved empathy.

When I got home, there was a letter from our rental agency. It was a stock standard form letter telling me the grand list of things I need to do when we move if I ever want my bond payment to see the light of day. In theory this is all alright because we have looked after the house and it's in identical condition to when we moved in - actually it's cleaner. See the thing is, the people before us were evicted and the rental agency refused to clean it or pre-inspect it. This was two days before we were moving in and they were saying if we didn't like their rules we didn't have to move in. I didn't have a choice, where were me, my two flatmates and two pets supposed to go? There are pens drawings on the walls at toddler height, stickers on the walls of one bedroom, and a hole in the door of it too. There are stains on the carpet and rubbish in the garage. I just know I'm going to be held responsible and it's only now that I regret not sucking it up and telling them where to stick their shoddy contract.

The list included the stipulation 'Pay all outstanding Water Bills' and what do you know, there in the same delivery was the first water bill I've seen in six months. For $500. Erm, what? Yup, $500. I don't have $500. Where on earth did that water go? I'm going to have to ask everyone to chip in, because their set-rent doesn't cover the water, but holy-ball-of-stress, batman.

As this all went down, Courtney's Man-of-the-House instincts kicked in for the second time in as many days and 'If they don't give us our bond back I'll take them to court!' came bounding out. Fair call, because damned if the damage is our responsibility, but I was not in a mental state capable of dealing with the idea of court. I just wanted the whole thing to Go. Away. There's really nothing I can do other than a good cleaning job and a crossing of fingers.

I figured I'd go to sleep, have a cuddle, and when I woke up in the morning I would be in a better state of mind and ready to take on the world again. I woke up and the sleeping bags of doom were still on the floor, the dishes from last nights dinner were still on the bench and the Trade Me purchases hadn't sorted themselves overnight. The tears flowed. I'm about to make a list. When I sort everything out in my head, I'll be better able to tackle it all.

When was the last time you ended up curled up in a ball of quivering stress? What are your coping mechanisms?

The Days Are Getting Shorter

Throughout my childhood, I remember the adults frequently discussing how the older they got, the faster the years flew by. As my friends and I reach milestone 25th and 30th birthdays we find ourselves saying the same. This year, perhaps to reflect our ages and the realisation that we are, in fact, adults now and therefore old, we have started talking about the weather more too. Mostly, how damn quickly summer turned to winter this year.

Autumn lasted about 3 minutes before a cold snap took over and my heater even came in from the garage. The bed now has an extra blanket and I'm sitting in my pyjamas as I write this. In fact, Squish came over earlier in her pyjamas. I almost wish there had been reason for her to be arrested or at the very least pulled over on her way. It would be a good story to tell our kids one day. After I made it my Facebook status.

I digress. The point is, I hate winter. I love sunshine and barbeques and cold drinks that make you feel better and not having to wear 7 layers just to feel normal. Nowhere on the Bliss List do you see 'losing the feeling in my toes' or 'getting soaked on the way to the car'. I feel the cold very easily so while a few people around me are thanking the stars that the heat has subsided, I'm shivering and patting myself on the back for being smart enough to ship off to the European summer in 56 days time. Holy shiznik that's soon.

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It doesn't actually snow here but whatever

As I sit here under my feather down duvet, in my winter pyjamas (Squish got to, I practically had to follow suit) and sipping on my sugar-free hot chocolate (thank you Jarrah, blessed manufacturers of god-like substances), I'm reminded that for the first couple of weeks at least, winter ain't so bad.

I love smelling crock pot meals cooking away. You know how much I love my roast dinners too. I love how the light changes and the bulbs inside the house suddenly feel warmer. I love the crispness of the air when I'm bundled up and the sun is out but the air is cold. I love listening to rain at night and watching it out the window during the day. I love cuddling up to watch a movie and not rolling away a sweaty mess. I love my heater. I love Izzy's winter fluff and Toby's winter mane. I love, just a little bit, that the nail season of parties and disposable income gives way to staying indoors and paying for heating, so that I have a smidgen more time to myself. I love scarves. I love ugg boots. I love being snuggly. I love one-hour Shortland Street on Mondays.

I am a person that is seriously affected by winter blues. The last month of winter, before we defrost and come out of hibernation, is hell for me and everyone around me. I get depressed, unmotivated and teary. My generally half full glass teeters dangerously on the edge of full blown miserability. I don't care if that's not a word.

I'm glad for you and I alike that I'll be out of the country for much of winter, but I'm thankful for these few weeks of snuggles and duvets and... ooh, soup. I should make soup. So next time that I mention how much I hate the air feeling damp all the time, the fact that no matter how hot my shower is some part of me is freezing, that i can never find quite enough layers to keep me satisfied, that my ugg boots let the puddles in when I wear them to the supermarket (5 years isn't old, ugg boots get better with age), that the nail money is drying up or that the dog ran mud inside again, remind me of the good bits. Or remind me that it will be summer again in 56 days and tell me to shut up.

Are you a winter or summer person? You northern hemispherites are lucky suckers. No matter where you are, what's the one thing you're most looking forward to in the changing season?

Road Rage

Have you ever been subjected to someones bad temper, completely undeservedly? Welcome to our Monday night.

Courts and I ride our bike to work and park in the basement between two cars. The rules are, the bosses get the car parks, but bikes are allowed to fit in anywhere they can without causing a nuisance. We've parked in the same space forever, and until recently, never had any issues. The space we park in is a triangle in the corner, wide at the back and skinny at the front where the cars either side come the closest to each other. Someone else from work parks their bike in there too as does a scooter rider from another business in the same building.

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The scooter rider has anger issues. Maybe they're over compensating for riding a 50CC machine?

We back into the triangle so that at the end of the day we can ride straight out the gap between the two cars. Other-bike-rider does the same. Scooter-rider does not. Instead they ride straight in and put themselves in a position so that to avoid blocking them in we have to back right against the wall and under the lowest beams. At first we didn't click that we were blocking them in but after the first time they rammed the bike against the concrete wall to get it out of the way, we sure got the message, which came in the form of seeing what's underneath the paint work. Not the best way to send a message when we're selling the bike, a note would have done the trick.

On Monday, as per usual, we parked as far back as we could. I suppose we were a little bit (I'm talking centimetres) in the way, but the scooter could definitely back out, and if they don't like reversing they've had a long time to figure out that backing in is the way to go. Fair enough they might have been annoyed. There are two sides to every story and they might not have realised we were trying to stay out of their way. But that still wasn't really a good enough reason to snap our mirror off.

Yep, clean off. The bike wasn't dropped, it wasn't accidental. there were no other scratches and the bike hadn't been moved. We looked everywhere for the missing mirror, which is only 6 months old as it is, but we didn't find it until we heard a rattle as we drove away. There it was, jammed in the back wheel. Poor Courts was doing his darnedest to stay calm in a really unfair situation but we both rode home dreaming up means of revenge that we would never go through with.

Tuesday morning we advised the receptionist and then later the building manager. We looked up the owner of the registration and we know their name. But what can we do? Absolutely nothing. We kept the mirror just in case we decide to report it to police, but that's certainly not the ideal outcome. For one thing, we're far too lazy to deal with the drama of it all. It's extremely unlikely anyway will ever reply to the email the building manager sent to all of the businesses that use the car park and even more unlikely we'll ever be reimbursed for the mirror.

So we park in a different spot and we look up prices for new mirrors. We haven't retaliated and of course we won't. I don't feel like the bigger person, I feel angry and I feel like we've been shafted. It's not unheard of for disgruntled car park users to leave notes on bikes that get in the way. As much as I'm glad we've never received one, it's certainly a better alternative to this.

Have you ever been subjected to someones disproportionate temper? What would you have done?

Bliss Continued!

Friday: Long Drives

Hot on the heels of our weekend in Napier, Courts, his sister and I drove down to Whangamata with Toby to meet up with Squish, Lobster, Monty, Nurse B, Wozz and two of Monty's friends Jimothy and Debs for our annual post-cricket-season weekend away. Monty and Jimothy were the only actual cricketers but that didn't mean we couldn't bask in the glory of their season! Friday night we all drove down after work and after a slight detour (read: I missed the turn off and no one will let me forget it) we arrived at Monty's uncles bach around 10pm. This bach is amazing, sleeping a huge number of people and boasting a three car garage and a room specifically designed for a projector screen.

The first Friday of our annual weekend away is usually a little alcoholic and this was no exception. Wozz had tequila and I doubled my count for 'Alcoholic drinks in 2011' with tequila shots alone, never mind the bottle of wine (Moscato, of course) I added to it. I thought my tolerance would be a lot worse than it was after 3 months of not drinking but I didn't do too badly and I had barely a hangover the next day.

Saturday

One of the best days I have had in a long long time. I woke up early (thank you body clock) and cleaned up the mess from the night before while chatting with Debs about our European plans. As others slowly rose, Jimothy started the barbeque and we were soon stuffing ourselves with a feast of bacon and eggs. Monty and Jimothy meandered off for a round of golf and the rest of us headed down to the beach. The water was freezing but the weather was beautiful and warm. Only four were brave enough to venture into the water, and that's if you include Toby. Even though he is terrified of waves he ran into the breakers at full speed and had the time of his life!

Everything is going to be OK :)

We walked the length of the beach to the inlet used by boats and then wandered up the main road. I decided to fore go sugar-free for the weekend and shared a huge chicken burger with Courts followed by Feijoa Crumble and then an Ice Cream all to myself. Go hard or go home I say! The sugar high wasn't unmanageable but I spent a good hour or so sleeping off the resulting crash. Once the golfers had found their way home we bought a smorgasboard of munchies at the supermarket and Jimothy once again took skillful control of the barbeque. The night was much quieter than the previous as we ascended to the movie room to play Wii on the projector and several of us dozed off in our respective corners.

Sunday

Sunday started much the same way as Saturday, clearing up from the previous nights barbequed bananas and ice cream. This time it was Nurse B's turn to wow us with buttermilk pancakes, stewed apple, blueberries and maple-cinnamon butter which was amazing. The only bad thing about the pancakes was that there weren't more! After breakfast I took Courtney's sister for a driving lesson around the quiet roads of the town, the first chance she had to drive her new car.

My entire week was summed up for me by a singular comment by Wozz as we all sat out on the deck together - "We need to sit around a table eating cheese and talking crap more often". It's true, and I'm going to try and make it happen.