The Spinster's Dilemma

I have come to the conclusion that there is a reason why I am single and perhaps doomed to be an eternal spinster. I am too tired for a man. My God. I am knackered. I had the longest day and by the time I scraped myself to the ladies' room for a pre-rush hour traffic pee, my co-worker almost gasped at how exhausted I looked.

Go straight home, Tamale, she said.

Like I had somewhere else to go, right?

Last week a friend and I were talking about how the quality of life among some in my generation has diminished in today's society. I cannot tell you how many friends are trapped in the rat race like myself - a life comprising of waking up in the dead of morning to study or get to work, work all day, traffic, get home, tired, angry and hungry. I asked her, how do MARRIED people with kids do this shit? By the time you get home, you probably want to body slam the husband and beat those kids cause you're so bitter. And I would be on the short road to divorce cause I am too tired to shower on most days. Can you imagine trying to satisfy a horny husband after a 16-18 hour day? My goodness.

It's rough. As I sat in traffic again this evening, I called my friend Shar, and at 5.01pm, she was already in her jammies, and in bed cause she was exhausted. And I so wanted to be her. There has to be a better way to live! I want a cute husband and some babies but 1. how does one get these when you're too tired to look, and 2. who is more at risk if this keeps up - me or them?

Musings

Well, my team lost the game. It was a hard loss to take cause we played so well all tournament but I am not a sore loser, nor am I a sour grapes-er. NSW played the game deserving of the championship. Good for them. And my team? Still mightily proud of them. They represented my little country with amazing class and won over the fans.

In Tamale life, not much. Been so busy that I came home and remembered a very important project which saw me scrambling to get it out. I was all alone the past few days, with people out ill etc so it has been very hectic and very busy and my mind seems to not be able to keep up.

I am making Tamale time though. My early morning workouts are as close as I get to a life of my own, without having to worry about work. I don't want to be this fat when I turn...ummm...on my birthday in less than 2 months. It's good. It's going well. I am channelling my frustrations into sleeping and writing, hence the resurrection of the blog. Food is not the answer!

Looking for more writing opportunities too - I want to write about shit I enjoy doing. It really takes the load off. That and television. I love sitting and watching tv when I am not too tired to do so. There is so much shit on tv that boggles the mind, both in a "wow, I did not know that" and "wow...these people are so stupid" kinda way. Television is the source for amateur anthropologists. That and travelling. Or just having coffee. The things you see while waiting for a cup. If you only knew some of the crap I observe in my day to day activities, you would never imagine that my life were really very boring.

Sending good vibes to Hyderabad

Trinidad & Tobago players rush on to the field after they beat Cape Cobras by seven wickets to qualify for the final of the Champions League


This will mean nothing to a lot of people, but tomorrow my national team, Trinidad and Tobago play Aussie club team, New South Wales in the final of the Champions League Twenty 20 cricket tournament. None of these international clubs expected us to last past the first round. But here we are, still unbeaten and in the final. Clearly they have mistaken my national...NATIONAL side for that other team - the guys in the maroon who consistently get their asses handed to them. This team is the best side in the region, better than the regional side I might add. I expected nothing less but quality cricket from this team. I always had complete faith in the boys in red, white and black and wish them the best of luck against the Blues, whom they already gave a good cutarse last week.

Trinidad and Tobago forever!

p.s. Hugs to Lermie.

Ennui

My co-worker is really passionate about her job. Dare I say, she loves it. She wears it. She breathes it. She takes it home. I put on a nice outfit hoping that somehow I will be inspired to work and live up to the outfit. It did not work today. I was miserable. I was not myself. I have not been myself in years it seems. I suspect I am bored with what I do. Bored with the day to day tasks and it is not fulfilling. I don't share her excitement over new things. I have stopped feeling excited. I don't hate it...sometimes I do, but it is not a general, daily feeling. But I don't love it. I don't wake up in the morning excited to go do it. I read some other industry blogs from people who blog about the field I am in and they seem to love it too. They are all bubbly about it. I wonder if I am doing something wrong. This bothered me as I read line after line of professional enthusiasm while I felt nothing.

I thought this was what I was supposed to be doing but I am miserable and though I know there are a whole heap of other factors contributing to this feeling, having no love or joy at work does not help either. Is it cause I am not where I wanted to be at this point in my career - feelings of failure, resentment, hopelessness? Is it the smallness of where I am doing it? The claustrophobia of my island home? I work hard and I work well, noone can dispute how hard or how well (fabulously) I work, but it's not a labour of love. I don't stay late cause of some indescribable joy to be there. Hardly. I stay late out of some weird sense of duty. I guess I just have to figure this one out on my own.

Sigh. This return to blogging has not started off that well has it? I will aim to improve. Hey, at least I am writing. It's daily now. Ha.

Gratitude - Tamale's Top Ten

So I decided to do my "what I am thankful for" list.

1. My 5 loyal readers. Thanks guys for sticking with me, even though I have gone from 500 entries a year to barely 100 now. I often just have nothing to say. But you keep coming back. I must be better than crack.

2. My ass. I am putting on weight but there is nothing worse than being a fattie and having a flat ass, no waist and love handles. At least I am a HOT fattie with a great round ass, no love handles and a discernable waist. Not to mention nice boobs.

3. My mother's and father's hotness. I am a fat, gorgeous hottie! Ask anyone!

4. My job. Often hate it, but I have enough money to buy cute shoes and plan a much needed end of year vacation. I also get to go to NY for free in a few days.

5. My friends. They may be boring on a Friday night but when I am having a meltdown, they are my rock.

6. Cable. Has saved me from suicide on many a boring weekend. lol

7. Internet. Ditto.

8. My resilience. A lesser spinster may have quit life a long time ago, but this weary spinster keeps on truckin'.

9. My co-workers. For often reminding me that there are those who need Jesus more than I do.

10. My sense of humour. For keeping me sane, and making others happy enough to keep on loving me.

Passive Participant in the game of...Life

The girls and I went out to dinner on Friday, and as I met Bea, I was like "bitch!" How does a woman who just forced a 8lb life out of her vagina after 9 months of looking like a swollen cantaloupe with legs, get so damn skinny so quickly? And there I was, the fat, frazzled friend, after a long day at the office - on and off the road, in and out of meetings, with not even a lunch in my gut, yet looking like I swallowed the kitchen. It's just not right.

I read an article in the dead of morning today, as I was wrapping up....work (on the weekend) and it said "don't be passive about living" and despite my best efforts, I know I am being pretty damn passive. So how do you change this? My waking hours are spent working and then what's left over I use for sleeping cause I am basically too tired to do much of anything else. My friends are pretty busy themselves and this Friday outing was a miracle cause I can never get them to do anything besides clean up baby shit or crunch numbers at the office. I have stopped dating my mother, hardly date myself and am trying desperately to stop dating my kitchen, inclusive of fridge, stove and microwave.

Where on earth does it leave me? I am not quite sure. I am yet to apply and plan for vacation, cause I am either busy or indifferent. I am wary of doing yet another "solo" vacation. I love adventure and exploring and all but I am pretty tired of planning vacations around myself, looking for places a single woman can travel to alone, without fear for her safety. I have looked at singles' cruises and so far, it's a whole heap of old people looking for pre-retirement home romance. It's just not fun. But I need to give myself a vacation. I need a swift kick in the ass...and soon. I had hoped this year would be a great year but it has been a dud and though there have been some negative forces, it really is no fault but my own. I guess it's still not too late to fix it.

One, but not One

It's true what they say about misery loving company. I was not really miserable or losing sleep over it but it's always nice to know that you're not alone.

I think I am an attractive, intelligent, spunky, witty, interesting type of woman. I think I have a lot to offer. Yet, I am alone. And I try not to make it a definitive element but increasingly these days, when all I have is work to latch on to (quite unwillingly I must add), it dawns on me that the life plan just did not work out as I had hoped.

But it's not just me, thankfully. I have beautiful, smart, funny, totally stellar girlfriends who find themselves in the same position and you ask yourself, "what's up with the universe that we are in this position?" I am not sure what it is, but there is a sisterhood in knowing that, okay, I did not pull the short stick. There just happened to be a lot of short sticks. And you just make the best of what you've got.

I am so glad for the weekend though. I live for weekends which is sad cause 1. my weekends are pretty standard - catching up on sleep, and the occasional caloric Happy Hour and 2. this is my life - weekend lust!

But still, better than having nothing to live for. lol.

Don't Christians need condoms too?

Here I am. Are you excited? I am. Kinda. A little. Maybe not then. In any event, I want to start back writing and fan power can help. So, get to work.

So there is a guy at work - now I normally do't blog about work or work people cause hey, you just dunno who is reading - but I think this is anonymous enough. Anyway, work guy. So a few months ago, we had a workshop on HIV/AIDS and the facilitator gave us a bushel of free condoms - both male and female and a wide assortment of ribbed, flavoured etc. I walked through the floor handing out the condoms cause of course I could not use them. Duh. You need to be having actual sex. Anyway, there is a guy I used to talk to and we got along fairly well, so of course I walked over and offered him a condom. Does that sound very odd? Offered him a condom? lol

Anyway, I did not expect the reaction I got. It was almost as though I had offered him a steaming hot bowl of dog shit and he was horrified that I would even think of giving him a condom. I was really taken aback by the ferocity of his reaction and asked someone else if he was super duper religious or something cause I did not offer him my vagina....just a couple condoms. But clearly I had miscalculated his level of normalcy.

I saw him yesterday in the elevator and do you believe he is not speaking to me? After all this time? Months? I said good afternoon and he looked me dead in the eye and stayed silent. Over a condom, ladies and gentlemen. I was just too flabbergasted to comprehend this turn in our relationship but the moral of this story is - when in doubt, use your condoms as water balloons.