If you're alone and you got the shakes

I know.  I missed "Things I Love Thursday" this week, but being back in work makes it hard to update during the day (as well as seriously cutting down my reading time) -- this week I'll try and make a note each day of a couple of things I love, so that I have the raw bones of the post ready to go on Thursday.

But yes, work.  I am now back in the world of the gainfully employed; getting up at 0630 every day, jostling for position with the other commuters on the train station platform in the mornings, and sleeping on the journey into London.  One day in the near future, when my finances are straight again and so long as it won't impact on anything I'm saving towards, I am going to have to get myself some latest must-have gadget for the journey.  Music makes any ordinary journey seem like a movie, complete with soundtrack.  What I really want is a telepathic MP3 or Spotify player that will read my mind and know what music I want or need to hear -- choosing either to indulge me or challenge me, depending on the setting.

Work itself...is fine.  Just fine.  It's only been 3 days, and I've not yet really started on the "sales" part of my job -- which being a Sales Executive is kind of the big part.  I've done a lot of data entry, and I have started setting up social marketing by registering work accounts on various sites and am beginning very slowly to make friends and find followers of like minded people.  Part of me doesn't yet know what to make of the job, and part of me knows that it will be only what I make it -- if I do well or don't, love it or not, is entirely up to me.

Definitely in the plus column is the people I work with -- so far, everyone seems nice and nobody drives me mad.  I didn't meet the MD of the company until my first day in the job since she'd been in an accident recently (she was hit by a bus), but I have only positive impressions of her -- someone that genuinely cares about what they do, and seems like a cheerful, upbeat person.  It helps that I've also been taken to lunch twice.

Over a lunchtime pint on Friday I tried to sell her my photography printed on cavas for the new offices we're moving to.  She seemed interested, or just was being polite, so I have given her the link to my Photobox page where the items can be ordered.  It would be good if some sales were to come of it.  I've tried selling my pictures through Etsy in the past, but was never very successful -- at least with Photobox I don't have to pay for the service.

Somehow in the course of conversation with the MD and my other colleagues, we came around to PR and my background in it.  To cut out all the boring middle bit, I have volunteered to try and put together some sort of PR for the company.  It's a small company, but I'm increasingly passionate about what they (or we) do, and would like to see them get more recognition -- and, of course, more business.  Since it's not really my job to do this stuff, I'm going to have to approach it in very small measures so that it doesn't interefere with my "day job". With a lot of luck it could take off, and I could slowly move more towards this stuff than the sales side -- even helping them to set up their own internal PR department.  Alternatively, I might find the sales earn me plenty on their own and keep me happily busy so much that I don't care about their PR profile.  Or yet another option is I'll decide in 6 months this job really isn't for me and I'll go find something else.  But for now, it's earning a living like.

And I'll work on those plans for a telepathic MP3 player.

Jupiter in space agencies' sights

I've been teh suck and not updated nearly enough recently.

I can report that my recent foray into not taking medication has ended. That is, after relying instead on vigorous exercise and strength of character, I have given and gone back. I was beginning to feel decidedly shit and unable to cope at times, so I decided enough was enough. Since I have restarted I still have my moments: short spells of despair, almost sickening bouts of worry and anxiety, but overall I am much better off. We have to admit that there is "something wrong" with me, and really there's no getting around it. It's a little depressing in itself to have to admit it. It might well be a brain 'chemical' thing -- some people are diabetic, or anaemic, and reliant on certain supplements of whatever kind. Perhaps I have a defective brain in a similar sort of way. For the record, I have begun to wonder when I am not taking my medication if previous medical professional diagnoses of bipolar disorder might not have been too wide of the mark. But either way, it doesn't matter.

Also in the news here this week is that despite every intention of leaving my body to medical science -- albeit while I am still very much alive and kicking -- has also met with failure. I was invited to attend a screening for a trial that would have paid me about two grand for my time, trialling a drug for Alzheimer's and ADD. But the time they wanted was about two weeks, and there was no way I could take it off work. This week I discovered that I have no holiday left whatsoever to take this tax year, and only have 13 days available to me to take between April and October. This means most likely that the time I spend in Peru I am going to have to take as unpaid leave -- I can consider that my own charitable contribution.

The obvious drawback of not being able to take part in a clinical drug trial is it is going to be a lot harder to earn money quickly. Possibly less unpleasant, maybe even safer, but more difficult.

I'm still resentful of my car needing £700+ worth of repairs at Christmas. It's no use crying over spilled milk, but I would never have chosen to spend that money frivolously -- not that keeping my car on the road is frivolous. But sometimes I think "I could have bought a great big television with that money, but I wouldn't have" or I think how I could fly to Barcelona and back like 6 times for that amount. Sometimes I go into a record shop just to browse, and I will pause over a CD -- I don't buy myself things often, I'll think. But then the idea of spending the money for no reason makes me feel ill, and I put it back. Like I say -- crying over it (like I did at the time, to my shame) doesn't change a thing, and the girl and I need a car for a whole host of reasons, so it was important. But that doesn't stop me resenting it. Stupid to resent an inanimate object, I know.

Speaking of work and earning money... Dedicated readers who have read my old posts, or longer term followers who have been with me for longer, may remember a post last October when I gleefully announced having got a job. I opened the champagne for dinner with the girl -- a special bottle I had been saving for when I got what I considered a "proper" job, a job that I wanted and wasn't just a stopgap, and that I felt was advancing my career. It was a year's contract, but a bloody good opportunity just the same. We remember? Good.

On Tuesday a notice went out on email to all office staff that there would be a briefing from the MD at 1430 in the conference room. Nobody was sure what it was about, but we were under no illusions: it wasn't going to be good news. I did speculate that perhaps with all the budget cuts and general "credit crunch" doom and gloom they would be announcing that in order to try and cheer up staff and raise morale they would be buying us an office kitten. Shockingly, this was not what the announcement was. In the minutes before the meeting, word got out that there was to be a merger. Nobody was quite sure whether to believe it, or what the details were. I then got blind-copied into an emailed press release from my head of PR. The release was going out to all trade press, announcing the merging of my company and a neighbouring region's.

There was lots of words like cost savings and efficiencies and stream linings, but the important thing to those of us in the office -- and presumably the other region's offices -- is that there are going to be job losses. We expect a lot of the job losses will be higher up -- there will be duplication of various positions, but nobody feels they are safe. We don't know when cuts will be, and we don't even know where this new amalgamated company will be based.

I feel particularly unsettled as my position was only "interim" to begin with. I've had the uncertainty that if the girl whose job I am doing wants to come back after maternity leave, then I would have to find my own way. Now it's impossible to know what will happen to me or to my job, cue random bouts of despair and almost sickening spells of anxiety and worry. I felt very fortunate to get this job, I felt so many times I had been passed over or fallen at the last hurdle when applying for jobs I could do so well -- this to me represented so much. Now I'm afraid it's all going to disappear again.

Up until now, I hadn't been directly or personally too affected by the now-official recession. Fuel costs have fallen by 25%; this meant I had more spare money. VAT was cut: again, more money for me. I was still getting paid the same. But of course it couldn't last forever. I was never unaffected, for months my older brother has been on the brink of bankruptcy -- to the point where my parents have given him all of their savings and more to keep him afloat. Finally he has had to give up ownership of his business, but luckily has escaped bankruptcy. So I was never completely unaffected -- just the same, when it's suddenly your own company, and you and your own colleagues looking at possible redundancy, you feel the impact.

I don't know why I thought I would get away unscathed. I've friends who have been made redundant two or three times in recent years, my own Mum has been made redundant at least twice -- although she usually manages to come back brighter. Which isn't bad for someone with a history of depression themselves.

Anyway. Without ending the post with thoughts of doom, gloom or the like I am pleased to report that having the girl's love and support makes a world of difference, and the next post should really be about valentine's day...

P.S. You haven't missed anything, this post doesn't have anything to do with Jupiter. I was just stuck for a title so I used a news headline.

I want to live my life not survive my existence

So here we are, 2009.

It's time to take stock of where I am and where I'm going, but hopefully not so much of the looking back over where I have been.

I start this new year living with an amazing and wonderful girl, in our very own (rented) house -- the first time I have lived away from home since I was a student. I've curbed my impulses to try and turn the house into a mini art gallery of my photography, with the philosophy that less is more and all that -- plus nobody wants to see you endlessly stroking your ego, in the living room.

The house has its good points and bad points, but most important is that it is our space, where we can shut the door and escape the world.

In 2008 I had a bunch of goals -- rather than resolutions, it's what all the cool kids are doing these days. I aimed to get a new job, to move out of home, to travel to Spain and learn to speak Spanish, and I think to learn to snowboard properly. I own my own board, and I can't even turn properly -- so I can carve up a storm downhill and look damn cool with it, but I am in trouble with corners, with bends. That one never happened. I tried to sell the board, and failed -- this happens every year.

I started the new year working in a book shop, and enjoying it -- I loved recommending books and authors to people, enjoyed literally running off up the stairs to find something, and lived for the occasions when someone would ask me for the poetry section. But the money was bad, there weren't enough hours, and it being only a seasonal job I hadn't learned how the novelty would wear off. Furthermore, there was nowhere to "go" with it.

When they called me one day and offered me a permanent job -- incidentally, the day of my aunt's funeral -- I turned them down. Mostly because the hours were bad. But part of me must have hoped for more. So I got that "new job" in fairly rapid order -- I went to see a recruiter, told her to find me a job, any job, went to an interview the following morning and started work right away. I was taken on for a 6 month contract, and was still working there 10 months later. I went four countless interviews for something better, and in the end didn't go any further than the other side of the office -- swapping a dull job in Purchasing for a more creative and interesting one in Marketing & PR.

I think we can safely say I beat that goal into submission.

I tried to learn Spanish, but motivation was lacking and I ended up with a Latin American Spanish course. I write this one off as a half, since I am able to order food and drink in Spanish, say "I speak/understand Spanish" very well, or a little, and the usual greetings and farewells. Needless to say I also went to Spain. The girl and I are regular customers here of the local tapas restaurant, and I long to take her to Spain.

And as mentioned at the start, I did move out of home. It took a new job, a tax rebate and a wonderful girl to help me do it -- but we did it together.

Where do we go from here? 2009 is a year of adventure. Anyone that's been here before or spoken to me for more than a couple of minutes should remember I am going to be hiking the Inca trail in Peru in June, raising money for Macmillan Cancer Support. A couple of years back, I talked to a friend about doing it and doing it for charity -- but they said why bother, just raise the money and go on your own steam. I am glad that I decided to do it for charity after all -- but that's probably because I'm an attention-seeker. I am being healthily sponsored by my company, and have in turn been generating the publicity for them. But the Inca Trail isn't a goal -- it's happening, even if I have to be carried on the back of a llama, stinking of piss. That's either the llama, or me.

But what is a goal is to get fit for it. Properly fit. The fitter I can be for it, the more fun it will be -- completing it just isn't enough for me. If I can look great in a t-shirt while I do it, even better. I've rejoined the gym, and as of time of writing I am still in pain from my personal training session yesterday. My next is Friday morning, and I fear I am going to become one of those crazy people who hits the gym before going to work in the morning.

Speaking the language would be helpful, so I may also have to get that Latin American Spanish course again -- although apparently if you speak Castilian Spanish they understand it just fine, but think you sound all posh like a news-reader.

There is also adventures to be had in Australia, since the girl returns home to apply for a new visa this year -- and I will be joining her out there for fun times, before the two of us return, shivering, to England. Again, something I already plan to do can hardly be a goal, can it? But saving the £700+ for the airfare should be. I also plan to try and wheedle my way into an upgrade, but we shall see how that works out.

I've only been in this job since October, so it's too soon to be considering getting another -- although I am only contracted until October of this year, so I might not have a choice in it.

A year without any incidences of self harm would be good, as I can't remember a year since I was in my mid-teens or younger that there hasn't been an incident or two, though in more recent years it has got a lot better -- to be able to start 2010 saying I didn't deliberately, physically hurt myself the previous year would be good, although a little sad. Perhaps a goal should be to treat myself better? No doubt having rigorous exercise regimes and goals like Peru will certainly help, not to mention the love and support of the people around me.

And in closing, ladies and jellyspoons, my goal in 09 is to be more creative. Last year saw me take up painting -- if only for the one picture. But to conceive of and create a dramatic picture on a canvas, and then to have it exhibited as part of an art show, was a real achievement -- but my creativity is seriously lacking this year. I haven't done open mike poetry in years, let alone written anything new, and that epic zombie apocalypse masterpiece isn't going to write itself. But generally, I need to be more... Actually, no -- that's it, I just need to be more.
I want to live my life, not survive my existence.

Swallow my pride, oh yeah

I don't start my new job until October 13, but I have already started writing press releases. Granted, these are press releases about the company's generous sponsorship towards my Peru trek -- so I have a vested interest -- but it's publicity all the same. It's lucky for them, really, they gave me the marketing job, otherwise I would still want to be writing my own press releases and confusing the hell out of everyone.

It's been a little frustrating, since the releases were mostly written over a week ago. The MD asked me to run them by the marketing manager for the company before anything got sent out, so I copied them both in -- along with my soon-to-be-boss, with a note to the MD to say that his quotes could be changed at his discretion. A couple of days later, the marketing manager called me -- we chatted about the releases and he suggested a couple of small style changes (the company should be referred to as a singular and not a plural, that kind of thing) but generally had no changes to make to the content. On Monday the MD stopped by my desk to give me his feedback, which again was just changing one or two words, and that was it.

Then he mentioned that the marketing manager was unexpectedly taking some time off for undisclosed personal reasons, and in the meantime to run all this sort of thing past someone else again. Fine, not a problem, I dutifully make the MD's changes and send them out again -- this time to the head of PR and marketing for the company.

At first I get a short email asking me to re-send the releases on the company template for press releases. This is the first I have heard of any such templates, in fact I am fairly sure I was told before that releases were just sent in the text of an email. I replied, explaining my position -- not yet in the new job, but already doing the work, but don't have access to things like templates. They were sent on to me without complaint, but the head of PR also took a look over the releases.

Either she is more fussy, or just paid more attention, since she almost completely rewrote the opening two paragraphs.

I wasn't overly taken with all the changes -- from training as a journalist I insist that the intro (the first paragraph) should be very short, like 10 words short and while giving a very brief snapshot of the story, as light on detail as it can be. I am in absolutely no position to argue or to complain. I was grateful to her for making it seem more exciting in a way, and have quietly tried to compromise on the opening paragraphs by cutting a few words and details out. Having resubmitted the releases to her today, changed and on the template, all she did was change the size of the title. So I guess I got there eventually.

Now, finally, I think they are good to go. The MD has approved his quotes, the head of marketing and PR has changed the title and sexed the opening paragraphs up a bit, so with the final nod I will distribute the two versions -- trade press and local media -- via email and a few clicks of the mouse. I'm torn whether to send them right away, or to wait until next week if I am going to be out of the office from Thursday to Monday, using up accrued holiday.

This is the sort of exciting life I lead.

Otherwise, things are pretty quiet -- the Peru sponsorship hasn't made any great leaps forward, but I am planning a fundraising quiz night locally, which should hopefully bring in a few quid towards the final total.

Tell a tall tale

I was very cheekily forwarded an email promoting the latest chick-lit release. It was a cheeky email, since it was sent to everyone on the First Time Club mailing list without first having asked permission from the admin, and that just wasn't on. Anyway, the book sounds like the usual dull and uninteresting tripe that is aimed at people who don't like to read or have no imaginations. But what was interesting was how they are promoting it. With a PR background, the promoting of a product interests me more than the product itself a lot of the time.

To promote the book, a competition is being run to win a weekend away -- the prize going to the person who submits the best story of a lie they have told.

I submitted a true story dating back to the Christmas of 2006, when some friends and I were at a very bad Christmas disco held at a boat club in the middle of nowhere and DJ'd by the half-deaf and slightly retarded older brother of a guy we had gone to school with and didn't really like. Sounds like the recipe for a great night, doesn't it?

The main point of my story -- both here where I first told and on the entry from -- was fairly simple, At the party I had got talking to a woman who was the Mum of a girl I had gone to school with. Her daughter was now a successful lawyer, living in LA. I thought what did I do for a living? I worked in a call centre and felt like a loser.

That's more or less where the real story parts ways with the version I submitted. Like the charming British Government's reports on WMD in Iraq, I wanted to sex it up a bit. In my submitted version of the story, I decided I should have told the woman I was an artist/sculptor (I don't think she ever asked), what's more that I was flirting with this girl's Mum, and that at the end of the night I gave her my phone number on the pretence of her giving it to her daughter but knowing she'd keep it.

One story wasn't enough though. So from a different email address I submitted the story of my imaginary girlfriend -- but again it wasn't quite good enough, so I tacked onto the end of the story being offered the job, but later breaking up with my imaginary girlfriend while she was teaching English abroad.

I think I should get extra credit for not only telling (to my mind) entertaining stories about lies I told, but actually lying about it.

Interestingly, the website for the book and the competition no longer loads, so I wonder if someone got into trouble for the spamming of the link...