“I need a holiday” were my words last week! Meaning: I need to get away, rest, enjoy some sunshine, don’t worry about assignments or work stuff. What I got is lower back pains, so badly that Care Doctor had to come in the middle of Saturday night to give me two injections, a prescription for some drugs (which according to a friend make me sound and look drunk, not sure about that, but they defiantly knock me out) and he ordered bed rest. This was clearly not my understanding of ‘rest’. Where are the palm trees and the beach? Instead I’m lying in my bed with my feet up, hot water bottle in my back, and trying to make the most of it – reading a chick lit, sleeping, eating kit kat, watching ‘How I met your mother’ (I’m at season 4 now!), listening to Podcasts (both entertaining and challenging) and trying to be PATIENT!
The hardest part is to be taken care of…..I need people to clean my apartment before my parents arrive, who are going shopping for me, bring me soup and tell me not to move to much.
This is not a holiday, but I’m trying to accept that this is a rest my body (and mind) needs right now, and I’m learning to slow down and trust, that it’ll all work out in the end.
They are more tragic things in life then being allergic to ice-cream. My dad’s stay in hospital a few weeks ago, being stressed about assignments, the sudden death of a friend’s brother, my uncle’s open heart surgery next week – just to mention a few. All these things are real life tragedies, things I have to face and cope with at the moment. So when I got the ‘shocking’ news yesterday that I’m allergic to peanuts (and all peanuty related things), cod, prawns and ice-cream, I was sad, that I’ve to say good-bye to my dear comfort-food friend. He was always there for me in tough moments, cheered me up, kept me company in my loneliness and kept me sane at some very hot summer days. From now on I need to resist the temptation but I also know that this is not the end of the world. I will survive. And actually it’s not a real tragedy.
Is a blog the right place to recommend a book? I think it absolutely is! As much as I love to attempt to express my thoughts in written word, I love to read good and well written stories. My soul is thirsty for funny, real and honest stories, like Anne Lamott writes hers. She is never getting tired of exposing herself in a humorous and honest but simple way. She is so down-to-earth that even though I am not a middle-aged white american woman, I can relate to her and think that I get to know her better with every anecdote I read about her.
The book I am reading at the moment is called Grace (Eventually). Thoughts on Faith. She inspires me because she is not another ‘christian’ writer, she is a writer (and woman) who is a christian. That’s why her stories are so real. Their aim is not to teach and tell the truth; their aim is to tell about a woman on her journey who stumbles and gets back up.
Mean Girls is not simply a teenage high-school comedy (or tragedy), it is also a mirror for teenage stereotypes. It’s a movie everyone who has gone through school can relate to!
One day three of our young people did an re-enactment of the whole movie – it was hilarious!!! I think we could charge people to see them acting as Regina George, Gretchen Wiener, Cady Heron and all the other cast members!
But the other day I stumbled across this (thanks Slate Magazine!):
My job as Team Manager includes a lot of taking care of things and people. Living under the same roof as your intern girls (we will call them Special-K and Schnuff) requires a lot of “mummy-jobs”. Such as getting medicine when they are sick, occasionally driving them to places and picking them up (though they are now more independent having their own car), asking annoying questions about their well-being – you get the picture!
Today was a special day: Special-K and Schnuff had to drive from Kilkenny to Wexford for a Youth Leaders Training Weekend by themselves! I decided not to attend, because I needed a break and some time for myself and Boss Team Leader was already there. So after looking for maps online and printing them out, making sure they won’t forget their wellies and the sound system, filling the tank of the car with petrol I had to send them on their way and said something very mummy-like: “Text me when you get there!”
My kids called me when they got there, and mummy has a peaceful, mental-health weekend ahead! Maybe I’ll bake some cookies before they’ll get home?!