The Apprentice is distracting me

I am watching the Apprentice whilst trying to finish at least one piece of writing. Every year I watch the compulsive show and convince myself that I am better than any of the contestants and that I would do a much better job. My mum believes so too.

I am wondering what the interview process is for the contestants to get through to the actual show and what the people who don't get through are like.

It is cringe worthy television and I love it.

This week, the contestants are setting up a catering business. Surely it is common sense to know that when it comes to food, poor quality shows, or should I say taste. It is obvious when you skimp, for example, sandwiches taste shit when they have no butter or spread. Seriously guys!

Whatever happened to keeping things simple? Whatever happened to common sense?

The work experience student we currently have at work could be on the show and would fit in well. 'Aaron' has been driving us all mad for 10 days, his classic lines include:

'Paul, why are you shredding the doughnuts? ' Paul actually moved the sweet treats to another desk and then used the shredder - for paper, not doughnuts.

When the MD stated that he had ear ache and that the pain was alike to having glass in his year, young Aaron asked 'Have you been in the loft recently? That is how you might have glass in your
year'

After a challenging conversation with a client - 'Are all your customers stupid?'

I think he would do well in the boardroom with Sir Alan.

Anyway, enough of the ranting, I must get back to trying to finish 'something'. Sometimes I wonder why I bother, especially when I find it so hard to pull words together, I admire Emily and her writing, she is constantly posting great stories. I wonder how she manages it, she is clearly very talented and it obviously comes very natural to her. I think I need another two hours added to my day, or maybe look in new places for inspiration.

Any suggestions on finding inspiration?

Delicate edges

Sometimes when I look at you, I wish that I could fold you neatly to fit inside my pocket.

I would take great care in placing you on my palm, then folding you towards me, careful not to fray your delicate edges, careful not to leave you vulnerable to the outside. I would fold you no more than three times; any more and you would be too small, any less and you wouldn’t fit.
Once I have you my perfect size I would place you with care inside my pinafore pocket - tight into the corner so that you felt snug and safe. I would worry at the thought of you falling around loosely in my pocket and the possibility of you becoming unfolded, so I tuck you deep into the edges.
From the depths of my pinafore pocket I would tell you about the day; how the first signs of spring have enlightened the garden with bright forsythias sprayed like Senorita’s fan and crocus’ shining like bulbs through a lush carpet of green, and how the day ends with candy pink and powder blue skies.
I would protect you from the outside, from the big bad world that prejudges you for being with me and from the opinions that differ to yours.
Some may say that I am smothering you, that my pocket offers no reality and that you will never be yourself. All that I know, is that I would be looking after you, just like I always promised.

Things to do before I reach 30

I haven’t been feeling myself for the past few weeks. I think I know why but it is all too complicated. Why do our worries become so much more intense as we get older? I much preferred it when my only worry was whether I was wearing the correct day of the week knickers or if my vest was on the right way round.

Age is one of my ‘issues’ due to turning 30 in October. I know it is not a big deal really, but when my younger sister is telling me that I am ‘old’ and that I should really be thinking about having children, (she is only fifteen) and my grans are wanting to be great-grannies before, as they put it, ‘pop their clogs’, I can’t help but feel the pressure and a little scared by it.
It isn’t that I think I will be old, Christ! 30 is nothing, but more that I should start to behave and act with a more appropriate maturity i.e. not to laughing a rude sounding words, not getting ridiculously drunk (although I still have alcohol fear after this) and perhaps starting to know who I am and what a I want from life.

It isn’t so much the issue of age, but more of what I have achieved in 30 years; my lovely Aussie friend whom I visited last summer on a mission to ‘find me' came up with the synopsis that there are four main targets for most people:
1. You're either a family person (ie. fallen in love and created a family by the time you're 30)
2. You're a traveler and have seem half the world, probably twice, before you're 30
3. You're a career person and have got yourself to a good, high paying job that you're happy with by the time your 30.
4. Or you've had a great run at everything - experienced love, made a difference to someone or something, traveled a bit and know where you're headed.

We decided that we are none of the above and our 'issue' is about turning 30 and not having achieved anything. So far, in 29 years mine stack up as: I have traveled to Australia (which was one of the most amazing things I have done, more about on this blog) have also been to Canada and Thailand, I have my own house (only because I was able to buy my ex out of the property after he broke my heart, more here and here)

So, in a effort to enter my 30's with a whole host of achievements, I have exactly 220 days to achieve these thirty things (I have added a couple of things from this previous plan, as I have only managed number 3 on the list) Some will take considerable more effort that others, some will be fun whilst others will get the adrenaline pumping, in particular, holding a slow worm:

1. Skydive – I just need to decide upon which registered charity
2. Go zorbing – already planned for a summer activity
3. Camp at one of the big festivals – Isle of Wight, here I come!
4. Learn to ride a horse
5. Get over fear of horses (perhaps this should be number 4)
6. Watch live jazz, somewhere like Ronnie Scott's would be ace

7. Make a patchwork quilt

8. Visit the London Dungeons, I have a love hate relationship with being scared.

9. Get a pet - I am thinking a rabbit, I love rabbits especially lop-eared ones.

10. Learn to walk on my hands

11. Sing at karaoke - *confession* I am a karaoke virgin

12. Visit Kew Gardens

13. Learn to salsa dance

14. Read all of Jane Austen's novels -I have seen the films, drama adaptations, mini series but never read them.

15. Try again with my genealogy project. I started research the Cooper family tree years ago but never got far, apparently my great aunt in Australia has the family tree. I should start with contacting her.

16. Go to a murder mystery party

17. Eat at a sushi restaurant

18. Go to a Silent Disco

19. Buy a beautiful corset, I would love one from Fairy Goth Mother but don't think I can justify the price tag.

20. Spend a weekend in Liverpool

21. Go skinny dipping

22. Hold a slow worm

23. Have a girlie night out in London

24. Learn to play poker

25. Become the Marketing Director and shareholder at work
26. Get Zimele UK, the charity I am a trustee of registered as a charity, this means raising £5000
27. Sell one of my paintings
28. Go white water rafting
29. Have a holiday involving a beach
30. Make five new friends

Well, that should keep me busy.

Caution: tiredness kills creativity

I am exhausted but I want to write.

Something.

I want to find my inspiration

Somewhere.

I need to get back to who I am

Somehow.

no title just thoughts

I lie awake

on daytime thoughts

I sleep alone

with tired fears

I walk incomplete

between lost time

Triggers

I wish
I didn't dream
of your life now
and how
you are more alive
without me

I wish
I hadn't given you
so long
to hurt me

I wish
I could heal
the scar
and the bruise
you left
on my intuition

I wish
I could start anew
to look deeply
into fresh blue eyes
with no thought
to lessons
you imprinted

I wish
the trigger
of infidelity
could be
squeezed
for the last time

Roses are red, bubbles are pink...

My Valentines weekend was filled with treats and loveliness:

Cups of tea with my nan, dinner with best friends, giggles, rose wine, hugging the one that needed love, exercise class with best friends on Saturday morning, more giggles, bending, stretching, meditation, my mum finishing the adjustments on my beautiful green vintage dress, wearing said dress, buying pink jellied sweets for gingerbread man, pink fizz, bubbles, a dozen red roses, candles, glitter love hearts, cooked breakfasts, Sunday lounging, shared cooking, homemade spicy meatballs, baby grand, sticky toffee pudding, early night, cups of tea and lots of kisses.