WTS Day XXVII

I hope I'm still doing the Roman numerals correctly. Last night I made a list of my top nine self-help books. I had intended to go for ten but couldn't think of a tenth. I'd say I will, and then post I was surprised that's as far as I could go. I think it was partly because I allowed only one book per author. 

My copy of Dorothea Brande's "Becoming a Writer" came yesterday. Tomorrow I will start the writing as soon as I wake up. I did do one exercise and was very pleased with what came out of it. I think I will do it again. 

So far, her programme involves two parts:

1. Writing on waking. This conflicts with "The Miracle Morning". I see however, that there a "Miracle Morning for Writers" book, that I could consult. On the other hand, if I stick to writing in a bedside notebook, then there is no reason why I couldn't slot this in before Silence. 

2. Writing by appointment. As well as first thing in the morning, Brande recommends a definite time to write. I have been sticking to my twenty-minute a day minmum, but suspect this would also be a good idea. When though? The morning is the obvious time. We will say 9 am, from Monday, and start with 20 minutes, increasing every week by five minutes. This will allow for finishing the miracle morning. 

Shouldn't I prioritise writing over the miracle morning? I mean I could be doing real writing right now instead of this this typing. I don't know. I think of this as a kind of mental house-keeping. Perhaps the five-minute journal would suffice. I have started in a different notebook as my yellow still has not arrived from the hotel and I suspect it won't at this stage. 

This weekend is tough as there is nothing on. There was a lot I could have done last weekend but I was away at the Christening, or recovering on the Sunday. This is how things happen. You pick yourself up and you move on. I could have signed up to a Meetup or something. There is always something, and if there isn't you can arrange something or just go off into the country somewhere. 

I am going to go into town once this is written. I have a couple of things to pick up. Just a couple, mind you. Staying our of You Know Where. There is very little I need food-wise (onions, bread). There is a hair-care product I want to buy in Boots (Bumble and Bumble stuff that means you don't have to blow-dry your hair, will buy the travel size to experiment).

I am thinking about going back to ordering books. There is a book I want and it is much cheaper on the bookdepository. If I didn't know the book depository are owned by Amazon then I would have bought it there already. It is more expensive to order books in a bookshop, and compared to Amazon they take longer to come. They're more predictable than bookdepository though. 

My scruples were there already but have been strengthened by reading this review from Quillette. It'd be wrong altogether to order "The War on Normal People" online wouldn't it? It echoes what I've thought for a while: our obsession with e-commerce and automation is a form of economic cannibalism. I already rarely use the self-service checkouts in the supermarket and deplore their introduction to our libraries. I say "rarely" but I do use them. 

WTS Day XXVI

One aspect of WTS I am struggling with is avoiding the sun. I came back from holidays determined to really avoid it this week, yet every day I have been out in it. Monday I went shopping, Tuesday I can't remember but there was something, Wednesday I walked over to some-one's house for lunch, yesterday I went out in the garden with my nephew. This is all less exposure than if I didn't think about it, but is still probably more than the average office-worker gets. I must become more disciplined where this is concerned. UV rays are at an all-time, crazy high. It was 29 degrees yesterday and set to go over 30 today. I feel guilty now about my four flights, with two more coming up in September. I know lots of people don't worry about flights, thinking the key to tackling global warming lies with governments. That is true, but in the age of Trump, we must all do what we can do. 

My own life is not eco-friendly in the slightest. I live alone, in a house I could have done more to insulate. I don't have solar panels, even though I love the idea of them.It is true that I retro-fitted an old house rather than building a new one. That is something. And it is much more energy-efficient than when I bought it. If back again I would insulate under the floor-boards and put in triple-glazed windows. I drive to work, in a B rated, diesel car. I am also guilty that I could have car-pooled twice as much as I did last year, but never got around to changing my supervision. It is quite probable that car-pooling will be out of the question next year and it definitely will the year after. But who knows after that. I could take the bus into town a lot more. Not that my driving into town is a huge source of CO2: it's only around a mile and a half. Maybe two miles. 

On the other hand I'm mostly vegetarian. I don't take a whole load of flights. I buy bar soap and butter not in tubs. I am delighted with Thinx: they are practical and have led to a real reduction in the amount of sanpro I am discarding. That is one small win. 

How is the Miracle Morning going? 

Silence: very well, doing this every morning, even when away.

Affirmations: was going well. My notebook still hasn't arrived and I think I'm going to have to start a new one. 

Visualisation: not doing this one. 

Exercise: a bit sporadic. Back in the gym again two days a week and most of the others doing a quick abs routine. Doing these in the morning does help, and sometimes I get into the shower amazed at how many things I've ticked off so early in the day. This actually saves on the willpower needed, while simultaneously fostering good habits and discipline. 

Reading: like silence, this is going really well. Every morning at home I set the alarm and read fiction for ten minutes. I don't bother with this while away because I'm good to read on trains and planes anyway. 

Scribing: This is what I have chosen to do for scribing. I am doing it every morning that I'm at home. When away I keep my paper diary. I wrote in the paper diary yesterday as well because I was afraid to discuss the big development here.

It is all a bit nuts, but it is helping. Helping what is the question. This sounds very self-helpy, but it's helping me live more intentionally and focus my attention. This in turn is making me less emotionally labile and better able to detach a bit from what certain other people think about me. 

WTS Day XXV

Momentous developments have been happening in one particular area of my life. Even though no-one reads this blog, I still feel reluctant to discuss these developments here. All I will say, is that while they have made me happy, there is something in their nature that is causing me to reflect. 

That element is that the thing that is making me happy is the forthcoming absence of something that has caused me a great deal of unhappiness, upset and frustration. It will be gone and whole new vistas are opening up. Yet these vistas are empty. My point is that this happiness comes from a negative source. I thought last night how would it feel to have happiness coming from a positive source - especially from a relationship. I have never felt happy in any relationship I've been in. There have been moments of hope, yet there has always been disappointment very early on. 

The good news has made me stronger. It has not happened because I did anything or worked hard. It just happened, fortuitously. The challenge now is to act on this good fortune, and to think of what the possibilities might be. Or to just relax a bit. This is the first time in a long time, I think ever, that I have been able to really enjoy the summer. 

In other news I am doing well on the first of my 26 habits. No possibility of entering TKMaxx has arisen. It's not the weather for going into town. I haven't even been to the shopping centre near me where there is a small TKMaxx. This morning I am going to the outdoor market in Mahon Point. This is a summer treat. The next challenge coming is Plastic Free July, which starts on Sunday. The market is good there and I will see today how little plastic I can get away with buying. I will also go to the Tesco while I am there, as the normal Tesco I go to is near TKMaxx. Not that I do a whole lot of shopping in Tesco and I always try to spend my Dunnes vouchers when I'm there so it is they who bear the cost. 

WTS Day XXIV

I have good news. I cannot share that news here, but it is a turn-up for the books. That is all I can say, apart from that it has come unexpectedly. My mood has been lifted just like that, and it has been a long time since that has happened.
It is astounding how one good piece of news makes the whole world seem a more optimism-inspiring place. I afraid to hope.
The summer is now in full swing as they say. I am spending my days pottering about, doing small jobs, getting into the corners of life's tin of sardines. There is a heatwave and the middle of the day is too hot to do much. I am enjoying small things like folding the laundry. I am on top of the grass. The house itself is a mess, but will get there. Perhaps today. This is the best time of the year, with around two months of the holidays left. I cannot fathom how I spent all those years correcting. It was a false economy as I went back to work and had to compete with others who were fresh from a mini-sabbatical.
Something happens during the summer. The mind unravels, slowly and painfully at first, and then school really does recede and other, wilder things colonise the space available. It is so important this year that I actually do enough things to sustain me for the winter. At least until February, and then I could think about going somewhere or doing something during that break.
The nature of time changes. Everything goes more slowly but at the same time everything is more vivid. There seem to be enough hours in the day. I feel better now and my sickness is more or less gone. Although I feel tired. I do feel I don't have the requisite level of energy.
I am far behind. That is how I feel. I feel that were I three years younger now would be a good time. I have learned things that are good to have learned, but I have learned them too late. Too late for what? There is really only one thing that is almost certainly too late for. Even if it were technically possible for me to have a child, I fear at this stage that I totally beyond the stage of being able to physically cope.

WTS Day XXIII

Will have to become more disciplined with this. It's twenty-five to eleven already and I have been up since half-seven. That is more than three hours to meditate, walk up to the shop, have breakfast, read ten minutes' worth of Joseph O'Neill's "Neverland", call the person I'm not supposed to be calling (call lasted ten minutes which is much shorter than normal) and turn on the computer. All that except the phone call could have been done in under an hour. I still have not exercised yet. That is supposed to slot in before reading time, but I have been excusing myself on the grounds of stiffness and saying I'll fit it in later but of course that doesn't happen. 

It is good to get up early these mornings as once the heat sets in it's impossible to get anything done. I have ordered Dorothea Brande's book from amazon, even though giving up amazon/bookdepository is supposed to be one of my goals. I am determined to do some actual writing today. Yesterday all I did was enter the Moth Prize, and send a story to The Stinging Fly. That's important too though. I end up entering the same competitions every year and missing the same competitions every year because the deadlines pass me by during the year. This is purely a case of failure to prioritise. 

My latest discovery is the Emma Guns Podcast. In particular her series on 26Habits. She has a lovely speaking voice and covers topics I am interested in. I have decided to start my own 26Habits series, to run concurrently with WTS (which is soon to run concurrently with Plastic-Free July). My first habit challenge is going to be staying out of all TKMaxx shops for two solid weeks. I am a TKMaxx whore and spend far too much time and money in there. Yes, it is often very good value and I have bought good things there like my winter coat that I wear all the time, but I have developed a checking habit. It is the vestiges of my evolutionary hunter-gatherer past. Here was a good shrub for berries. It's not 100% reliable but that only adds to the urge to check, unpredictable reward schedules being the key to reinforcing behaviour and all that. My most frequent purchases from there are beauty products, and I do not need Another Cleanser or Lovely Shower-gel. I say this partly because there was excellent value in the Heathrow Duty-Free and I held back thinking of all my stash I still have to get through and the bulk of the beauty fatberg is product purchased in TKMaxx. 

I have only one more big event to go in my Win the Summer schedule and that is a three-day writing course. The week before I have been invited to join my brother and his wife at her parents' holiday home. I am tempted but the last thing I want is to be spending hours on the beach or going on enforced marches (sorry, walks) on long, low-hedged country roads. If I could go and just hole up in my room. One way it would be good is that I could bring the laptop but there is, AFAIK, no wifi down there. Will see. 

WTS Day XXII

Already on to Day 22 of WTS. I think I'll do it for the whole summer and then possibly afterwards but will give up blogging about it at the end of August. The builders are back at the neighbours' house. It's the other side of my semi-detached, so when they drill (which they've been doing a lot this morning) I hear the noise and feel the vibration. This is even though I am in the one room of my house that does not share the party-wall, and I have my prescription ear-plugs in.
If I had to make a list of five life-changing products, what would they be?
1. Prescription ear-plugs
2. Blackout blind
3. Neostrata spf 50
4. Moleskine diary.
5 Disposable contact lenses.
There was a fight there for the fifth spot. It was nearly taken by Thinx underwear, which I am trying right this moment. I do actually love them, but they're more of a sustainability win than genuinely life-changing. I think I will purchase more of them. I started with two pairs, just to see, and they are eye-wateringly expensive, including having to pay the tax to the postman. I could have put the iPhone in there but that's after changing everyone's life, even if you own a different brand. And there are times when I'm not sure it has changed my life for the better. The disposable lenses are an eco-crime that I have trouble justifying. I manage though.
I'm in good form because I am just back from Spin and Abs, having not been at the gym since April. That was between going away and being sick and going away while sick. I chose spinning as my first class back because it's easy to differentiate for oneself. I kept well-back on the gears and was nowhere as fast as most of the other women, but I still felt like I had done proper exercise. Maybe I needed the break; it was feeling like a real chore to go there for a while. In other good news, the hotel found my notebook and are posting it down to me. I got the feeling they thought I was cheeky asking for such a scrap of nonsense to be sent in the post, but the alternative was to ask my brother/his wife to collect it. I paid the hotel enough money for them to put it in an envelope and stick a stamp on it. Am looking forward to getting it back, and it is good of them. They could easily - on seeing what it is - binned it and told me they hadn't been able to find it.
It's twelve o'clock. This is the real holidays now; hot weather, nothing to do. Well, I'm supposed to have writing to do. And I have a couple of things to get in town so might go in later. I am enjoying being able to stay inside out of the sun, in a perverse way. This room I am in is nice and cool, as it's west-facing and the sun has yet to come around this side. It will soon though, in around an hour or so. I feel the luxury now of having almost nothing to do and nowhere to go. There were a number of events that I wanted to go at the weekend that I missed; Cork Sceptics talk on Friday (in hotel), Crosstown Drift on Saturday (at Christening) and Fiction at the Friary yesterday(in bed with exhaustion). That's what happens. These things happen. Life happens and it is better to be out living it than filling up the time with going to things. The week stretches ahead of me. Now is when it will tell. Now is when I do work or do no work.

WTS Day XXI

I have made it to Day 21, but my 5 Minute Journal hasn't. I think I left in the hotel in Dublin , where I stayed on Friday night. I have rung them but they haven't found it. There is a possibility that it'll turn up here, but I doubt it will. That is because there is only one place in the case where it would have been, and it's not there. I wrote in it yesterday morning, but must have missed it when it came to packing up. Maybe it is a good idea to bring my packing list with me for packing for home as well as packing for departure.
The reason I was looking for it was to make a list of the Lessons of the Day I have been learning since starting WTS. Because it has been so hard I feel like I need to at least have learnt some lessons from the experience.
I certainly didn't feel like I was winning the summer when sitting on the 102 bus in from Dublin Airport. The sun was beating in on me and I couldn't get comfortable as the bus lurched and stopped and my case was banging against my legs. I was so sick of that case, having spent the week minding it and watching it and bringing it everywhere with me. The flight had started badly with me spilling half a bottle of Diet Coke over Keith Duffy's immaculate runners. Then we were held on the plane for ages as they didn't have the sky-bridge ready. Then I didn't know where the 102 went from (though in fairness it didn't take me too long to find it). Then I was the only person who wanted to get off at the tennis club, but I didn't press the bell and the bus was on to the next stop before I got off. I was frazzled in the extreme, but the hotel was lovely and I slept almost as well as I would have at home.
I was also pre-menstrual the whole time. These things happen. But that is probably the biggest factor in how overwhelmed I felt. I was having a nervous breakdown on the bus, hyperventilating and moaning, with other passengers asking if I was okay. I just couldn't cope any more. And my ears had popped  during the quick landing.
I felt relief this morning that I have my travel over with for the summer. I know that when it beds down it will have done me good. I saw things I hadn't seen before. Even though I though Bordeaux would be my main holiday and was pissed off with myself for booking the London trip at all, it was the London trip I got more out of in the end. I think I appreciated it so much after the experience in France. I saw the Westfield shopping centre, and the V&A, and I went to the big Waterstones in Piccadilly(waste really) and went to the National Theatre and I  met two friends on consecutive nights. I love London and am hopping mad over Brexit. Like most thinking people. I felt like I could have spent more time there, and I'm looking forward to going back in September. I think I might change my flight to earlier in the day that Friday, to give myself more time. The one thing I really missed was having the laptop to write in and blog as well. I think I could invest in a portable laptop, definitely.
The Westfield shopping centre was the most interesting thing I saw and I could have gone back there to do some shopping on the second day. The sales were on and all the chain-stores are cheaper there anywhere even outside of the sales. It is Europe's largest shopping centre but there is no bookshop there. On the one hand, the choice is intoxicating, but on the other the empty consumerism is nauseating. I am conflicted between wanting to have nice things and live as elegant a lifestyle as I can, and feeling that none of those things matter and they are a false trap for my attention. Coming to a compromise here is something worth thinking about. I think scheduling and limiting the amount of time devoted to shopping is part of the solution.

WTS Day XVII

"Love is a shadow,
how you lie and cry after it.

Look, it has gone off with its hoofs
Like a horse...."

Am back from France and EXHAUSTED. It was nice to be in France. I think I would like to invest in some kind of small laptop to carry around with me so I could do some typing in foreign countries. Not this one, it's too cumbersome and heavy. Really what I want is a MacBook, but there was also a very nice light HP in the FNAC as well when I was there. The MacBook Airs were on sale. They're a bit bigger, but still portable. I say I can't afford such an item, but it would be an investment. I remember when I bought the car I spent a thousand euro more than the same model and year in another dealership, because the cheaper one had a few scratches on it. Fool me. I thought my father would disapprove of my scratched car. Scratches mean nothing and the thousand would have gone a long way. Or all the bloody money I paid SIMS!! What I couldn't have done with that money. That was something I decided though, when I decided not to go through with IVF. I decided to take that money and invest it in my actual life, instead of trying to pretend.

There were a couple of things that happened that made me go through with trying to have a baby on my own. One was my colleague telling us, on a night out, about a friend of hers who'd done it. I think this made me less fearful of the judgement of people in work. I think this was actually the main push in the end. I know it's partly confirmation bias that I'm now against it, now that it didn't work for me. I don't blame those women who do it. I understand why they do it. But I think it's an awful indictment of society that so many men are turning their backs on marriage and parenthood. Are they though? Are women just too picky? I was picky early on and then not picky enough. In a good place now but there is nothing left to pick from. I think ideally that children need a father. Ideally. I'm not sure about how I feel about SMBC. Then maybe the whole set-up we have is wrong. I can no longer imagine bringing a baby back here and being able to mind it on my own.

If it had worked I'd have had the baby in April, just as the building work was starting next door. The hell that would have been with a screaming newborn and not being able to ever take a nap with the drilling and the angle-grinding and the kangoing and the hammering all day most days. I could write a story about some-one in that situation.
I left the New Yorker article about Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie in the hotel in France. Am sorry now because it would be a good article to share with the girls. I say that because if I had read an article like that, where the writer spoke about her daughter and how she is still writing, I think that would have been a helpful role model for me.

I am still very tired, but thankfully the only thing I have to do today is go in to the dry-cleaners to pick up the LKBennett dress I bought in the charity shop. I am getting fat because of travelling (always end up eating more) and not having been to the gym in a good month(sickness, then being away). I am dreading going back, but have booked myself into Spin and Abs next Monday morning. It was that or 20:20:20 on Sunday, which'd be harder. It might be better for me though, and I can always leave early. We will see.

WTS Day XIII

Once again I did not succeed in staying off Twitter during the hour. I justified this to myself by saying I deserved a sneaky look after doing my abs routine. More than that: I needed to have a look as that reward was a significant re-inforcer of a desirable behaviour. That is "linking" gone wrong, and also the halo effect.
How well is Winning the Summer going so far? It's been hampered a lot by my being sick. When did the sickness start? There must have been some germ somewhere. I think it could have been the day I went to Dublin. Why was I up there again? I went up to a conference, that was the last time I was there. But it mightn't have been that day. It could have been any day. A supermarket trolley. Coins. A hardback copy. A door handle. These things are impossible to avoid. But I did go to the doctor too late. These things are important: it is better to go too often than not often enough. I ended up spending a fortune anyway, that could have been avoided with an initial outlay of fifty euro. I feel I haven't been on top of my game. The sift to holiday mode is also a major one to make. It's moving from a position of vulnerability, where I am surrounded by threats, to one of openness to experience and opportunity.
I have been thinking that I really need to leave my job. I was walking back from the shop yesterday with a loaf of bread, thinking that maybe I will take a career break next year. I'll be officially old then. I should have done it before now. I expended myself. And I say way too much to my parents about work. It would be better if they did not know anything of how things are. Then I could better make up my own mind.
It is killing me. It has killed me.The atmosphere is so toxic. I am so completely unvalued. Not only am I unvalued, but I am seen a liability. I am thwarted. I could be doing lots of other things. How things happen. I don't think I really want to be a teacher any more. Not in the system that is there. I didn't apply for the NCCA MFL job. I could have done that. I didn't apply for the JCT English/MFL teams either. These would all have been ways out. But I couldn't work for the JCT and go around telling people lies. What doth it profiteth a man?
Is Roy Foster right about Gove? I think he was harsh. I think Gove at least sees the value of historical knowledge. Bruton is far, far worse. I must watch him on TV3. There was a spot last night about the teaching of history in schools. He is not for turning. What else will I do? What else can I do? It is better to have something lined up. The obvious thing is writing. I must tunnel out by writing my way out under the walls. Looking at TV3 there; it's very poor player.
Nervous about my travel later on today. This will be good for me though. It'll teach me something. Okay, I give up now on TV3.

WTS Day XII

I'm going to have to be learning my Roman numerals. I didn't manage to stay off the social media til now, although I did do better than yesterday. There is savage noise in the house because the builders next door are drilling into the walls. It's as well I've said I will visit my parents and my brother's family.

Awoke in knots about opportunities missed. It is so hard. But it is hard to switch it on as well. It's hard to get into the mindset. And the summer is young. And I should compare myself to who I was last year, not to how others are today or to how I feel I should be today. There is progress, but there is also now undeniable decline. I am a middle-aged woman now. Life is over-rated. 

Am also in a fury over my travel plans. I read some-one I know, who has a good job now, a job I would like say on facebook or Twitter or suchlike that she goes to London at least once a year to see a play. So that's what I'm doing, even though it is interfering with everything else. I also made the decision to change my flight back to Dublin. This is a mistake. Why did I do it? I did it to do less driving and "be the change I want to see in the world". But there is little point in being a martyr either. One round-trip to Dublin isn't going to burn up the planet. For the money the hotel I'll stay in on my own is costing me I could have stayed in Bantry for two nights during the festival. I could also have Air BnB'd and saved my money. I could have, I could have, I could have. The London fiasco itself came out of a drive for self-improvement. This is an odious trap. Less work on me, more work. Just work. 

This feels like a profound insight. Self-work is no work. 

The ten-minute reading in the morning is going well. Since finishing "Autumn" I have read two short stories from "The New Yorker" fiction special. This brings me back twenty-three years to when I was in in America and travelling by public transport from Hillsborough, NJ  to Cape May, NJ. I still have that Summer 1995 fiction special with the woman in the red dress on the cover. What a revelation that was. There was a story by T. Coraghasson Boyle and one by Jeannette Winterson. This is where it is at. People asked me in Borris if I were a writer and I thought  I was clever replying "No, just a punter". Not very clever, but as I say the summer is young. The summer is, even if  I'm not. 

The next ten days will be stressful and involve four cities and lots of travel. But this will be GOOD for me. It's not even a lot of travel by some standards. Going to France tomorrow. Woo hoo. Perhaps I should invest in some kind of portable writing-device. I'm not going to bring this laptop with me, it's too bulky. It'd be nice to have a little Macbook air or something. Not that I've ever used a Mac and I understand there are issues about compatibility between devices. 

It's been twelve days so far. It is going well. Having a structure and a ritual to start the day is working. Next I must get back to the gym. In health updates my cough has nearly gone. I was right not to take the antibiotics or waste money on the inhaler. I will fill the antibiotics prescription though, just to have them in. 

WTS Day XI

I am cheating on my Miracle Morning (I saw the book in Waterstones yesterday but didn't buy it) by not staying off the internet until I have completed all the steps. Must work on that tomorrow. I was checking all my Twitter notifications.
I have loads and loads of them -  more than I've ever had - because I weighed in on the Myslexia/Lionel Shriver story. I'm not even 100% confident what I said was completely true, but I've been called a "white supremicist" and "abhorrent". There really is a mob out there. I queried her being fired as a judge because of what she wrote in an article. The article itself was a bit childish but she made some valid points. Like wanting an editor to have a degree. Like the nonsense of ticking boxes to signify your ethnicity, like the whole world can thus be classified. The weakness in her argument was she was attacking an email rather than a public announcement. I think I should delete the thread if I want a book deal with Penguin Random House. Who publishes her? Will check. It's a company called "The Borough Press". Have never heard of them, they're part of HarperCollins, not PRH.
I feel attacked because of what I wrote. So many people jumped on me. I feel the decision to fire her as a judge was wrong. I think she is wrong in some of her views. I can think these two things both at the same time.
It does look increasingly as though there are two tribes atop opposing hills. One is shouting "Oppression!" and the other "Free speech!", yet there is no appetite for dialogue from either side. It's like the referendum. The other side are not just wrong, they are duplicitous and bad people. This is where we live today.

Was on the phone last night to a young teacher seeking employment. He said "what's for you won't pass you" and I disagreed. Am I right? It feels like what was for me did pass me. I think it's not enough to say that. You need to reach out and take things.
I didn't enjoy my youth. I never went out there and enjoyed things, and now I regret not having and seeking more fun for myself. Not just "fun", but the enjoyment of work and of purpose. I felt like a bad person. What was I doing all those years except punishing myself? How these things have their roots very early. I don't know. It's like a puzzle. It's like looking back and trying to see where did I start becoming so afraid. I think as well of all the people who were supposed to be "helping" me and how they couldn't give a fuck. But then they themselves lived limited enough lives and could not conceive of the things I wanted. I wanted so much. I was so hungry for things. The German teacher told my mother that my problem was that I lacked ambition. But nothing could have been further from the truth. I had huge dreams for myself, but they were unspeakable. They were just dreams.

I missed out on my first choice on the CAO by ten points and got my second on the third round but didn't take it. Had I scored even a couple of percentage points more on a single exam, I would not have ended up at the university I ended up in. Not that there was anything wrong with that university, just that my other choice would have forced the matter. Life would have been completely different. It's these small things. Working hard in school is so important. It's not that I did no work though. It was more that I knew nothing about study. Nothing. Nothing.Nothing.

WTS Day X

Have finally looked after my health and went to the GP yesterday. It was a locum and I'm not going to take the anti-biotics and inhaler she prescribed. At least not until I've heard back with my X-ray results. I went yesterday morning. They gave me a disk with the X-ray on it and of course I've run it on this laptop, alongside watching a good few Youtube videos on "How to read a chest X-ray". It doesn't look too much like sarcoidosis, although there may be some degree of hilar enlargement. It could also be completely normal. It probably is completely normal.

I expect they will be providing abortion services. I disagree with this, not because I don't think women shouldn't have the option, but because I think it makes it too easy for GPs to decide who'd make a fit mother.  I think there should be reproductive health clinics that offer both GP referral and self-referral. The way that fertility clinics do. What if I'd become pregnant, back in the day? I would have been pressured into having an abortion. I am sure of this. I remember the doctor in A&E who wanted me to go on the pill. Prick. 

I grow old, I grow old. The health niggles will intensify and multiply. I should be enjoying what remains of my relative youth. "I should." Always I should do this and I should do that, when really the only shoulds are moral ones. 

Up in Borris I was thinking about what happened last week with Person. I thought I have found out that I thought I was one type of person (would never engage in sexual activity with some-one else's husband), and then found out I was another type of person entirely (one ready to engage in said activity with very little persuasion at all).  Maybe if I was wrong in that area, maybe it's wrong to ever think one is a "certain type of person". I could be any kind of person I wanted to be. 

This was of course me trying to put a silver lining on a very sordid event. I was influenced by that Netflix documentary on monogamy, even though I disagreed with it when watching it and still disagree now. What if I hadn't clicked on it? What if I didn't have Netflix to begin with? It's like paying the stupidity tax or something. 

When it comes down to types of people, I think it may be true that there is no such real thing as personality. I also believe that the best predictor of future behaviour is past behaviour. On that level, what happened this day last week was predictable. 

Reinvention of the self is still an interesting concept. Life is too long to spend it all being just one person. 

One of my colleagues has left and has gotten a fulltime job with her own hours elsewhere. I didn't apply for the this job as it was all-boys and I doubt my behaviour-management skills are up to it. I am jealous now though. I think I should have taken a career break. It would be easy to say the reason I didn't take one was because my mother keeps encouraging me to take one. I will be sorry going back to work in August. I hate my job. I really hate it. And I have expended my health and my youth in working there. That is my fault. I should have gotten out years ago. One possible answer is develop a slash/career where I am a teacher/writer until the latter takes over. To do this I need to do more writing. Even though it's unlikely I'd ever make enough to give up the job, I'd have some level of identity and self-respect. 

I am good at writing. That is why if I were back again I would go and be a journalist. It stings me still how little encouragement I got. But that is a long time ago and I do not want to be the type of person who blames her parents and teachers for the failure she made of her own life. Am I a failure? I feel like a failure, even though the past ten years have seen me be more of a never-tryer. You can't fail unless you try. That isn't true though. you can only succeed if you try but trying or not-trying can both result in failure. One is active failure and the other passive. Even then, it is surely preferable to fail actively than fail passively. Daring Greatly and all that. 

I do want to cry when I think back, and maybe it is no harm to think back. It helps to innoculate me against what is still happening. I can see through it now. There is no actual belief in me at all. But that is okay, and not at all unusual or linked with failure. It is enough that I believe in myself.

WTS Day IX

I am not doing the Miracle Morning sequence correctly; I meditated and should now be doing the 5-minute journal, followed by excercising, followed by reading and only then doing this part. But my head is fizzing and I have so much to say and so much to think about.
How do fuck-ups happen? I am now convinced that so many of them come form a lack of self-efficacy. Also interference, yet lack of self-efficacy is itself a huge factor in the interference. I need to have more push-factor. More push-outwards. More force and energy.
Then there is sickness. My continued sickness is also a function of lack of self-efficacy and self-care, as I took so long to get around to going to the doctor. And then I didn't go to the doctor last week. And I cancelled my chest X-ray.
I didn't do my corrections in time. I haven't been exercising due to the illness. I am so sick of this now! I am sick of being sick. I am going to call the hospital today and re-book my X-ray. Maybe I should go down to the GPs but my own GP is on holidays and I don't want to see the other doctor. Maybe I should. Maybe I could just call and see whoever is on.
This is digression. I will turn on the time and write for twenty minutes.
I went to Borris again. This year was different as I wasn't on my own for the whole thing, and also because I went out on the Saturday night, which I had not done before. That made a huge difference. I spoke to people. Now feel that I wasted all the other years by not going out. It also meant Sunday was a write-off as I was absolutely knackered. I felt fine at 2.30 on Sunday morning but then woke at 5.30. I hadn't planned ahead and brought in water and something sugary to have before bed. I didn't have the worst hangover ever, but I felt it. Looking forward now to having a shower in my own house and also in staying inside out of the sun all day. Like the vampire I am.
It did make me determined to write. Write about what though? The weekend was unusual in that I had an abundance of choices, rather than trying to expand my little range of experience. I feel now I could have focused more on getting to meet editors and so on. But I have nothing written! I must write.
It was good though. Overall it was good and a huge improvement on my experience in previous years. Last year in particular was a waste. I am definitely going to write more, and see it as a job for the summer. Three hours a day. Could I do three hours a day? That's what Donna Tartt does. All fizzing up now with names of people I heard and met: Donna Tartt, Cillian Murphy, Max Porter, Margaret Atwood, Elizabeth Strout, Niall McMonagle, Suzanne O'Sullivan, Ben Anderson, Róisín Ingle, Rick Stroud, Enda Walsh, Margaret Macmillan, Guy and Gala Pratt, Roy Foster, who said my question was "good and ominous" and that Richard Bruton is a "philistine".
It is so hot now. It was lovely up there but so hot, and I wish now it would rain and that the temperatures would come down a little. I know the heat and the sun are good for me. Today is my first proper day with no school-work to do. So I am going to do my new job, which is being a writer. In order to be a writer I must be published. It is where and how to do this publishing. That is the question. I think I will send my stories that I have out to some journals and prizes today. And aim lower, as Elizaabeth Strout was saying about having her first story printed in a very small magazine. I remember myself being published in tiny "Metropolitan" and all that came from there.

WTS Day V

I'm not sure how this is going but will persevere anyway, as an experiment. How long would be enough? Twenty-one days? Am I going to count the days I am away and sans-ordinateur? Hardly. Partly it is working. On the other hand, I am still allowing myself to lie in. It is now 9.51 for example, and I have achieved nothing beyond meditating, my abs routine and my reading session. I am also sick and should really make an appointment to see the doctor. I would call but she doesn't work today. I amn't sure if this isn't the tail-end of my chest infection or something more sinister. I think the latter, although sinister is too strong a word. I think it's something chronic, like sarcoidosis. It could also be hypochondria.

I am in the newspapers today. I think I sound stupid and I have learned a new lesson...speak from your notes, not your head. Am particularly embarrassed by my further education/prison comments in the Irish Times. I was trying to bond with the right-on journalist, instead of sticking to my own job. The Independent also makes it look like I'm claiming one of the sixth years as my own pupil, when she wasn't. 

There, I've more or less gone and identified myself, although I am sure that no-one reads this besides me.

I have a voucher for a leisure centre and am considering going there to see if the steam room and sauna will help my chest. This feels insurmountable, which is worrisome. I'd have to go down there and how would that fit in with getting my eyebrows threaded? I could go get the eyebrows done first. I am so tired, yet doing this might alleviate my tiredness somewhat. 

I know I am sick because I was supposed to go to something yesterday evening at 7pm and I was too tired. All I had done all day was do the NCT and go out to work and then spend the day on the phone to the various journalists. This was nothing compared to a day teaching. 

What should I do? I feel paralyzed with indecision and curiously downbeat. I have the weekend to look forward to, but that is not here now present and I also have the worry of not being well enough to enjoy it. Should I make an appointment for tomorrow or am I overthinking things? I feel I'm in and out of the surgery constantly and there's never much wrong with me. 

The antidote to anxiety is action. I have lots of things to do and will feel better once they're done. It is the heat. I can't deal with this heat. What am I saying? Of course I can. It's not even hot by international standards, just a pleasant change from wet and freezing cold. I have lots to look forward to. And I have lots and lots of time on my hands. I have the whole summer in front of me. There is no pressure on me to do anything, or to make a "success" of my various trips. I'll be all done with them by the end of this month and still have July and most of August in which to relax and get all the various bits and pieces done. 

If only I could breathe! Maybe I can breathe and it's just all my head that I can't. 

WTS Day IV

This appears to be working. I got up at half-five this morning, feeling I had something to do and to look forward to. Having said that, the house is a mess and I did zero cleaning yesterday. I didn't do a whole lot of correcting or report-filling either. Instead I manage to waste epic amounts of time on Twitter and YouTube. A nice amount of my YouTube time-wasting goes on watching the likes of Brian Johnson's Philisopher's Notes , which deal a lot with productiviity. I suspect I'm not alone in this; it's the equivalent of watching Nigella Lawson or Jamie Oliver while eating quick-cook ravioli. Cutting down on the amount of time I spend on these two sites would be a good thing on which to work. I will think of a plan.

Am half-way through Ali Smith's "Autumn". It is very good indeed and I wouldn't have started it if it weren't for the ten-minute morning reading time. I never made it to the gym yesterday. Instead I went to see some-one I know. I thought I would just go for a chat, but there was no-one else there and other things happened. How do I feel about this? Worried and ashamed. Like my life has been degraded a bit. Just brought low and debased, instead of aiming higher. He has given up in many ways, not that he was ever super-invested in morality. When I was there, I was able to rationalise it to myself, thinking this is all very French and like the real world is anyway. I was probably influenced by a Netflix documentary saying monogamy is unnatural. I don't think it is. I think maybe if you live in America where marriage means nothing and people are having affairs by the end of the honeymoon, maybe monogamy seems unnatural. But here, almost all my friends are monogamous. I'm sure it's not as perfectly so as it appears to me on the outside, but that's absolutely the consensus and - touch wood - none of my contemporaries has divorced.

Today will be busy. It's twenty-past seven now. I'd want to be leaving here at 8.40 and will be gone for the day. I feel nervous. It's the beginning of the exams. I have only one group, but even so.

WTS Day III

Today is my second morning doing the Eldon book "The Miracle Morning". I have customised it considerably. I didn't do the excercise part this morning as I'm planning on doing a class in the gym later. I don't know though, if it's too soon to go back after my illness. On the other hand, the longer I leave it the harder it's going to become. I have booked Legs, Bums and Tums for 9.30, but I'm not going to go that because I have a higher priority.

So far this is going well and I was motivated to do a small clean-up last night as well. Order is being restored somewhat, as much as order can be. I am looking forward to the weekend and hoping it doesn't rain. This is the time of year for living. I woke up anxious about work. I have had no-one to really talk to about it all year. It is obvious now in hindsight that I was set up to fail, but I didn't see that. I really need to leave my job. I cannot write too much about it here. At least I have taken action in the form of enrolling for the MEd next year. And about time.
The meditation in the morning is working well, as is the reading. I wouldn't have thought of doing that before. Making time in the morning to read fiction. I am half-way through "Autumn". When does the writing start?
I go home too often. Any writing I ever did that was published anywhere I wrote while in Dublin or elsewhere away, where I didn't have to go home for weeks at a time. I don't really have to go home from here, but I do at least once a week. I never would have seen myself here, in this house.
Things that have upset me:
Getting the OL TY class
Things that have happened in my other class.
My desktop being taken away
The Belfast rape trial
The abortion referendum
Brexit
Trump
My low B12 levels
This current sickness

Has this been a typically tough year? I can't say it has, and almost all the things on that list affect many more people than me. One thing is the letting go of the idea of having a baby. That happened during the year and has upset me more than all the others put together. I seem to lurch from one disaster to the next. Except they're not disasters, they're just ordinary life and its imperfections. As the Papa of my French exchange student used to say "Ce n'est pas un catastrophe!"
What might leaning in to imperfection look like? (awful sludge here). It's mean getting over that I didn't finish with my third years and similar things like that. It'd be being proud of my work with the fifth years. It'd mean, to some extent, getting over myself.
I didn't bring my spray SPF yesterday and was sorry afterwards. Why didn't I? I didn't treat myself as some-one I'm responsible for. This is from Jordan Peterson's book, which I like even though he's an ultracrepidarian with wrong views about make-up and women and "enforced monogamy". What would it mean to treat myself like some-one I'm responsible for? I'd have some food in the house for a start, and make sure I had a playdate for the National Theatre. The time is up now.

WTS Day II

This is the "scribing" section of my Miracle Morning. Why do I continue to believe in these things? I suspect because it's so simple and tick-listy. I have long been a sucker for those magazine articles that promise to transform your life by doing 21 days of X, Y or Z, or by doing a new thing each day like "go through your wardrobe" or "walk around your home-town like a tourist". Did they ever work? I suppose they gave me something to do.
It's taking me more than an hour to do the routine because I keep checking Twitter in the middle. He also doesn't allow time for breakfast anywhere. I wrote my five-minute journal while waiting for my toast to do and then ate the toast before doing my abs routine. I'd gotten the visualisation bit out of the way first: I just googled pictures of Borris House, where I'm going next weekend because I thought that would cheer me up and put me in a good frame of mind for the day.
The five minutes meditation - "silence" - very much helps, as it always does yet I resist it during the working term. Five minutes! It seems too long when I know that getting out the door five minutes early means ten minutes less in traffic. That is the way. I leave for work at 7.20. But I'm making excuses for myself because I always go on Twitter first thing when I wake up and could waste up to ten minutes there. This morning was lovely; the only human noise was a distant hum of traffic (surprised there was even that on a bank holiday Monday) and there was lots and lots of birdsong.
Then I did the five-minute journal. I do like this and find it does work. I say it works but I'm not sure what it is supposed to do. It's like a lot of things that I do the least when I need them the most. But perhaps it is a mistake to think I have more need of these structures during my pre-structured time, when really it is now that I should be making the most of. One of the things I am grateful for is anti-biotics. I am almost better, but not quite, and I finish the course today. My skin is really good even though that's not why I'm taking them. My stomach is flat and my ankles not as swollen as before. I had a nice body once, and took it completely for granted.
I did my exercise then and it easy to see how fitting this in practically first thing is good. I did a ten minute fitness blender Youtube routine. These are quite good and easy. Not as good as a proper session or abs class but they're kind of maintenance. And the ten minute video I do is better than the forty-five minute class I don't.
Then I read. The book recommends this time for self-improvement reading but I read loads of that anyway so I am devoting it to fiction. I think of myself as some kind of writer, yet I often don't read enough fiction and I certainly don't keep up with new books. That's because they're expensive and packaged in awkward formats. The book I started this morning is Ali Smith's "Autumn" and it is good so far. I want to read more writers who'll be at Borris, so must look up the schedule.

What next for the day? There is gritmin to be done and I am almost out of food. It is a baking hot day. I could go to visit my parents and get that out of the way. I have corrections to finish and reports to write. Travel arrangements to verify. Friends to contact. I still feel really, really tired but am a little better every day.

Win the Summer

It's another summer. I am determined to make this a good one. Last summer was almost an excellent one, had I not been pre-occupied with a personal project that did not come to fruition. It's been a long year. The June bank holiday feels in some way like a New Year.
I have a lot planned for June. I feel I've too much planned and am especially not happy about taking four flights in one week. This is not me! This comes from not living the life I have, and instead copying other people.
Well, we will begin. Am looking forward to doing lots of writing, and improving on last year's Plastic Free July.
A new thing I'm going to try is "The Miracle Morning". I bought the Kindle version of this book ages ago but never got around to looking at it before now. Now wondering if starting earlier would avoided the hot, sick mess that May became. Well, that's always the way, isn't it? What if I'd started taking the anti-depressants that the doctor prescribed? What if I hadn't cancelled my chest x-ray?
I can't remember who wrote this book, but he recommends setting an alarm and devoting an hour each morning for the following tasks, with the breakdown up to the person. That is good. I plan to start tomorrow but not to set an alarm, as I am recovering from a chest infection and figure I need sleep. All the sleep I can get.
So the plan is
Silence: 5 minutes meditation
Affirmations: I'm sceptical of these but willing to give the 5 minute journal a go and that takes 5 minutes.
Visualisation: even more sceptical about this one. I've allocated two minutes of searching for images on google. No Pinterest. I might restart my Instagram account at some stage.
Exercise: ten minutes of Fitness Blender. And back to going to the gym twice a week.
Reading: 18 minutes of reading a day, preferably fiction.
Scribing: 20 minutes including blogging and writing my diary. I'm not including writing writing here as that is a job and the point of the Miracle Morning is to set myself up to do it. I don't know. Maybe twenty minutes here is better than an hour later that I never get around to. Twenty minutes of writing something anyway.
Will see. Am excited now for tomorrow morning and getting started.