Rambles, rants and raves

A lot of opinions spilling out of my brain

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Shorthand practice after work is killing me and I honestly feel like it is zapping away all my inspiration. Luckily I love my job and so work motivates me to do better so I can actually progress and move on. However. It. Is. Exhausting.

This is how I feel. Although I look nowhere near as beautiful or majestic when I yawn as this leopard does. I look more like a swamp creature with circles round my eyes that I could probably hula-hoop with. Yes, I’m that attractive.




Shorthand has taken over my life

SHERLOCK JR.This is what I should be doing. This would benefit me in many ways, it would help me with the whole journalism thing, it would help me with my blogging and it would help me not feel like ripping my hair out because I have to master the ability of writing at 100 words a minute.

Shorthand has taken over my life and sadly it is a necessary thing to pass the course (the exam is this Friday!) and also a requirement of many, many places.

Wait, you say. You already have a job at your local paper, you say. And I would smile at you with a painful smile and say: “alas I do but I still need my 100 words a minute, I have to have it. It is an expectation.” Then I would hang my head out of exhaustion and the reluctance to face up explaining further as I lock myself in a room and listen to shorthand passages about pubs called The Rose and Crown and planning permission for an old folk’s home.

Shorthand is taking over my life. I seem to have reached my limit somewhere just before the 100. When people speak to me I see the shorthand symbols coming out of their mouths like some weird, journalistic Alice in Wonderland experience. I am practising until either my hand hurts or my brain cannot take any more words and so I can no longer understand what is being said.

If I fail this exam I will carry on until I can retake it in two weeks time, like a weary traveller because that’s how I feel. If I pass, I will rejoice with the biggest celebration I can contemplate in my tired mind, it sounds almost too good to be true: cheesecake, wine and the boy. Perfect.

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My lack of blog posts this weekend has made me feel slightly disappointed in losing a pretty good streak of blogging every other day. Busy, tiring weeks that seem to drain you however, sometimes require that you turn your back on the modern world, hide somewhere comforting and try not to think too much.

The Newtown shooting in Connecticut further silenced me. As someone who is training to be a journalist, and almost qualified, that probably isn’t the best thing to admit. But it’s true. My thoughts and views are very similar to those I have read and heard of others: of shock, grief and a disappointment that a tragedy like this has happened again. It is easy to forget, for those of us who do not live close-by, how often shootings like this actually happen. It begins a debate on gun control and the easiness of accessing and legally obtaining a weapon that can cause so much destruction. Which is good, it is something that should be talked about.

But the debate fades, becomes a pile of paperwork and comforting words as soon as a bigger story appears on our screens and papers. I very much believe in the power of words. I like to agree with the saying that the pen is mightier than the sword. But actions are louder. Actions are active, they are verbs, they change things in a more permanent and obvious way. Talking about gun controls is the start, a stepping stone, but the actions that should go alongside these words are what is needed.

It sounds a little confused but in times of tragedies, like the shooting, it is necessary to focus on the positive and what can be done to ensure we become better as a result of something like this awful event. The focus should not be on the killer.

To move onto far less terrible things, I have also been thinking about my work load. Planning how I can fit everything in with the small time-scale that I have. I have been contemplating what happens next and that is always an exhilarating but terrifying thought. I have been thinking about difficult decisions and hard timelines.

Basically I’m tired and admittedly, this is a tired post. I continue to push through and work hard, but I plan on staying in bed for at least half a day when I have a day off.

I have never been more eager to have a break which will come in the form of the Christmas holidays. My thoughts will be with those affected by the Newtown shootings and all those not lucky enough to have a warm house to celebrate Christmas with their family. Or just to be. I’ve found being tired makes you very thankful, more so than usual.

I plan on gorging on scrumptious food, on soaking up my family and spending enough time with the boy to help heal my heart from our time apart so far.


Brain Fart: I surrender

I have written nine different types of blog post. From these nine I have written at least seven drafts of each type of blog post (with various subjects). Each of these posts varied in length, some I didn’t get passed three sentences. Others were almost finished and hundreds of words long. All were doomed to go into the trash and be wiped clean from their virtual existence. That’s a lot of effort with nothing to show for it.

Thinking about it frustrates me because I have effectively written sixty three different posts, hated them, and thrown them away. In that time I could have trained myself to become either an international spy, a ninja, or written a novel. Roughly speaking.

That, I can tell you with much sadness, is the result of a brain fart.

This is a brain fart. The only difference is that my brain looks frustrated, tired, and nowhere near as happy at such a moment. But this was the best picture I could find. Oh well. (http://arthurdailies.blogspot.co.uk/2011/09/brain-fart_76.html)

Your brain tries, fails, self implodes, tries, fails, self implodes until it can not do anymore and a post like this comes out.

Today I have spent most of my time working my brain, more than should be allowed on a weekend. I have been studying for my course like any awesome student should. I have also been trying to blog whenever inspiration struck me today. Inspiration was a little elusive this Saturday and it’s now 8pm and my fingers and brain have not been able to work together to type up something at least a teeny bit interesting.

I blame the beginning of my course, the endless job applications and thinking of new ways to get employers to give me work experience (more on that another time) and all the shorthand, which is effectively another language (a rant on that will be more than likely in the near future). Oh and the boy arrived yesterday so my brain is just pooped from all the emotions and work it has been through in such a short amount of time. I think it was a shock to the system after a pretty laid back summer.

I guess it’s true: too much work and no play will make my brain crappy. Is that how it goes? No? Well, something along those lines.

This is my official surrender to my brain fart. I am waving the metaphorical white flag. It’s fine, whatever, I don’t even care.

This is my deal: I’ll give my lovely little neuron filled grey matter a rest tonight. I will eat cheesecake, make the most of the rest of tonight relaxing with the boy, possibly play the wii and watch my mum and the boy sob as I destroy them on it, and tomorrow I will be fresh as a daisy to work on journalism things, blog things and work things.

It’s a great deal. Please take it.

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Isn’t it ironic?

So I finally get internet on the second day of the second month of 2012. Halleluiah! Then I get so busy, my diary has numerous appointments, meetings and reminders written on top of each other as there is no room on the page. Which is funny because then I can’t read anything and end up sobbing in the corner in a hopeless panic that there’s so much to do, I may as well do nothing.

I then get so many tasks; so much work and a load of crappy circumstances mean that I literally have no time to write for fun. Not due to having no internet but due to having no spare time. It’s ironic really considering I’ve been waiting for the privilege of having the internet at home so I’d have time, then I have no time even though the privilege has been bestowed upon me (for a fee!)

A light bulb moment occurred on the day that lovely man with the power to get me online came to my house. I was in a lecture and suddenly my brain started screaming at me all these great titles and fantastic ideas for blog posts and articles and just general writing for fun. I wrote them all down speedily, while still trying to listen to my lecturer chatter excitedly about human’s linguistic rights (surprisingly, it’s even more interesting than I thought it may be).

I wrote everything down, all these ideas. Ideas, themes, images, themes, concepts: everything all onto a little folded piece of A4 paper. And today I finally managed to give myself a little time to write. I was extremely productive all day. Productive to the point where I was having an out of body experience and my ghost was tired for me.

I’ve finally come home through the dangerous ice and snow (I feel a rant on the dangers of ice and the inability for the council to really do much coming – but that can be for another day). I am exhausted, I want to rest, I’m hungry and all I want to do is be a little selfish and do some writing for me.

What happens? I sit on the sofa and my laptop breaks. It won’t switch on. Fantastic. I then go to get my inspired from the heavens notes with ideas, titles and whatever. And lo and behold it’s missing. Must have left it in the office. Or somewhere where I have been working today. Great.  So I have no laptop (thank God my boyfriend doesn’t mind sharing) and no brilliant ideas on what to write. My mind is too tired to think of anything itself.

Ironic really. The one time I get a little time to write and I don’t know what to write or have my own laptop to write it on. Maybe it’s a sign. But I’m a determined and persistent fool hence this post.

Hopefully they’ll grow in quality and topic as soon as I’ve rested my little rainbow coloured brain and my anti-exercise body. May your tomorrow not be filled with as much irony as my today has been.