Friday struggles

 Happy Friyay!

Or, if you’re in any way like me: Happy-oh-my-gosh-the-sleep-deprivation-from-the-entire-week-has-now-really-come-back-to-bite-me-in-the-ass day! People who go out and party on Friday nights: nothin’ but respect for y’all. Honestly, I am exhausted. A whole week’s worth of tiredness catches up with me on Friday and when I get home tonight, I will draw a hot bath and then chill the f*ck out. Because that is all my brain will allow me to do. And that brings me to the stuff that keeps me upright on a Friday.

  • I distinguish between Friday Lotte and Monday Lotte. See, Friday Lotte is very tired. She’s exhausted, actually. She tried going to bed even earlier during the week, but constantly tossing and turning and waking up in the middle of the night on many consecutive nights has negated that effort. And Friday Lotte wants nothing more but a few more hours of blissful sleep. Alas! Just because it’s Friday, it doesn’t mean there is no more work to be done!
    But here’s where Friday Lotte shows her cunning: see, there are things on her to-do-list at work that… Well… Can wait until Monday, right? Especially when it’s getting to be close to like, 3 or 4pm on a Friday: any emails that still come in can easily be picked up by Monday Lotte. She’s got tons of energy! Why bother poor old Friday Lotte with that? That’s just cruel and unusual punishment, I daresay! Sure, Monday Lotte really can’t stand Friday Lotte for being such a slacker. But it’s Friday and I don’t care yo. Wake me up when it’s time to go home.
  • Another weird thing I do – and it tends to happen more often on Fridays, though any sleep-deprived day will do – is… Forget what I am doing. Like seriously: it will be early morning and I’m in the bathroom. I’ve just washed my face and the toothbrush is right there. All I need to do is see the difference between my face wash tube and my toothpaste tube. And yet… Sometimes I fail. And I notice that “this toothpaste tastes odd yo?!”. Always a sad moment. A sad lapse in judgment. Thankfully, I have started getting better at this one.
    However, lately a new development has been creeping up. It goes something like this: I’ll be brushing my teeth – with actual toothpaste, thank goodness! – in the bathroom. And then… Somehow I’m doing the rinse-and-spit-bit in the kitchen sink? Like I’ll be leaning over the kitchen sink going “wait, this looks like it’s aluminum, instead of a nice white sink in the bathroom? How on earth did I get here?! When did my body decide to start walking around the flat?!” It’s not a massive issue to be honest, but disorienting as f*ck, let me tell ya. Those precious minutes between starting in the bathroom and ending up in the kitchen are GONE. I may have solved world peace in those minutes and I wouldn’t be able to take credit for it – I just wouldn’t even remember doing it. Which is so sad really.

  • The war in my head is also a weird thing, but probably recognisable to many. Like this morning: my alarm goes off, yet I can feel my eyelids being glued shut. Somehow I manage to turn off my alarm – half blind – and then it’s this shit:
    “Come on Lotte, one more day! You can do this! It’s Friday for crying out loud! Just get out of bed, get to work early and then you can leave early too! Such a win-win situation, don’t make this harder on yourself, ok? Please? Come on… No, don’t turn around. I really wish you wouldn’t fluff the pillow under your head like that. No, come one, it’s extra comfy this way – and it makes it extra hard to pull away too! F*ck you’re such a masochist. Can you maybe not go back into the dream you were having?!
    Yes, I know it was weird. Like a very weird dream. It made zero sense at all. You were at the house from the woman who used to babysit you when you were 3 years old, and her daughters were there and you were telling people about your banana oat cookies. Your banana oat cookies of all things?! Like it was a religion of some sort. Something people needed to “believe in”. Say what?! But the group who was surrounding you like you were some kind of guru, they didn’t want to believe you. So your sister got involved to get your family members there, because they were already converted to your banana oat cookies and your dad was talking about how the banana oat cookies “were special and made such a difference and…”  – DAMNIT stop going back to dreaming! You need to WAKE UP! Oh you are such an idiot! You have been in this bed for 40 minutes. 40 MINUTES since your alarm went off! There’s no way of getting to work early now. No early day for you, no sir. Masochist. That is what you are. Why on earth did you decide to get a mattress from John Lewis? Memory foam, like really, was that necessary? And a down mattress topper. You have made this into the perfect prison. Your bed is heaven and you are a fool. A lazy, sleepy fool.
    [pause]
    Aaaallright. That’s it. Getting up now. You amazing. You go girl. You a friggin’ QUEEN.”
  • Enjoying the quiet on public transport and doing literally nothing, is one of my favourites on Friday. Normally, on my morning commute, I’ll be checking emails, reading the newspaper or a book, listening to music or a podcast, watching Late Night shows with Stephen Colbert on Youtube… Tons of stuff, like seriously. My route takes me pretty much overground instead of underground, so I tend to never lose my 4G. And with 10 gigs a month to enjoy, I am connected at all times!
    And then Friday hits. And my mind goes blank. It’s just struggling to hold on to dear life and making it to work – which I am now officially late for, due to the weird dreaming and the fluffing up of the pillow and yeah… I knew that was going to happen, but it didn’t stop me from enjoying more time in my bed unfortunately.
    So here I am, running to catch the Overground train to Highbury and Islington – if I miss this one, I will be even more late than what can be considered “just a few minutes late” – and I’m pushing my legs to do things I really have no way of justifying – my poor, listless body. So exhausted and now pushed to do more than just walk around like a zombie? Mean mean mean.
    Anyways, I’m on the Overground now and I am simply enjoying the stare. No music. No reading material. No nothing. And because it’s London, nobody tends to be talking in the morning. It’s odd when someone over the age of 5 is making any sounds. Just being on the phone is frowned upon by all (silent) passengers. The morning is for your inside voice only, preferably even no voice at all. I am telling you: it is bliss. Just purely letting my mind STOP. I love it. Just quiet. That’s what a Friday morning calls for.
    One morning, my flatmate was on the bus with a woman whose kid was talking. I’m not even sure the kid was talking loudly, it was just talking, you know? Such a no-go. But then the mom apparently started shushing the child, explaining in a whisper that “this was a quiet bus, so hush and don’t talk until we get off, okay?”. That’s good parenting, let me tell ya.

So that’s it. A quick recap of my Friday struggles. I mean, I’m probably just weird. But something tells me…

I am not the only one – amiright?

Futurus localis?

The future. Today was all about the future. And before you ask: “No, I have no idea if the Latin spelling in my title is correct or not. I’m guessing it is, but it’s been like 5 years since I’ve read Latin, so I’m a little rusty. And don’t give me that look. You know the look. The look that says You studied Latin for 6 years straight? Are you crazy? to which I can only reply that Yes, yes I am. And if it has taken you this long to realize that, I’m doin’ it wrong.” 

Anyways, I went and visited a close friend of mine today, so we could discuss – you’ve guessed it – our futures. Both of us are nearing that graduation end-zone and where I’m completely convinced that “a job” is the next step, he’s still figuring things out. And that’s what we were doing today: trying to figure things out. Because let’s be honest: is there anything as daunting as making that first step into the rest of your life? I mean, I don’t know about you, but I’m damn right scared shitless! And I have two reasons for that:

1) It’s an extremely funky feeling of thinking about the rest of your life and only, basically, thinking about it in a job-related context. See, there’s no hot guy waiting for me at home. (Well, I guess there’s several hot guys waiting for me at home. But all of them seem to be quite attached to the paper they’re written on, so I haven’t had much luck with any of them just yet.) And my family and friends, while I love ’em like crazy, are not a reason for me to stay tied down anywhere. So in the end… When I think about the future, I just think about a job. “What kind of job? At what kind of company? In which country even, because I’m seriously not that attached to Belgium?” And my friends & family – we’re talking pre-Vlerick era here, not my Vlerick friends who are experiencing the same thing as I am – don’t really look at the future that way. For them it’s riddled with questions like “Where will we live? When can we move in together? Is this the guy I’ll marry? etc.” And I love my friends being so happy like that, but… I’m nowhere near that place in my life?! And that, ladies & gentlemen, is a funky piece of tiddlybits! (Pretty sure that’s not a word, but who cares. It’s a holiday and I’m a tad sleepy.)

2) I have three university degrees. One’s a bachelor and soon I’ll have two masters. All of them are in a different field: literature/linguistics – PR/communication – Marketing. Which means that… I have options. And like, a lot of them. Up until now, I’ve never seriously considered doing anything with books – I mean, I obviously still read them like the crazy book junkie that I am, make no mistake about that – but now that I’m thinking about the phrase “the rest of you life” I’m putting everything back on the table. Because, wow, I really don’t want to make the wrong decision? What if I decide to write a book and fail miserably? What if I become a marketing guru who never has time to write anymore? What if I go into PR and forget about books entirely??? It’s like… AAAAAAAAAAAAH! The freakin’ what-ifs are killing me! Well not physically killing me, but you can tell from reading that my brain is clearly under some duress ^^

So there. I’m scared shitless. I’m not afraid to admit it. And that’s also known as “irony”.

Meow. I don’t know what I’ll do yet. I’ve got a cool opportunity coming up next week, so who knows what’ll happen there. And if all else fails, my imagination is sure to lead me out of the place I so fondly refer to as the hole. For those of you who do not know what the hole is: it’s that place where you go when you feel like you’ve tried something and if it had worked, it would’ve been sheer brilliance and everyone around you would cheer and yell “Ohmigosh-that’s-so-awesomecakes!”. But sadly, whatever you wanted to do, it didn’t exactly pan out and now you’re wishing you could be invisible and it’s like you’re physically shrinking in size and… Theeere you go. You’re in the hole.

So yeah, I think if that were to happen, I’m sure I can spring for some rope with some bizarro thoughts in my head and off I go, climbing out and on to the next venture. But I just wanted to make sure everyone had a clear understanding of what the hole actually entails. I am, however, very sorry if the explanation was somewhat redundant or maybe even way too far-fetched, taking you into the coiling tangles of my brain, which has now completely freaked you out. I know I’m weird, and it ain’t easy being me. But there you have it.

Anyways, I’m just wondering how other people do this? I mean, really… Do this? Because everyone goes through this phase. Coming out of school and joining the workforce. Millions of people do it every year. And yet it doesn’t seem to be treated as the huge mile stone it is in someone’s life in the way that it should be. The first day of kindergarten. The first day of primary school. High school. College… But the transition into work life? Yeah, there’s no card for that. And definitely no rule book. Even though there’s a bunch of us going through it every year. I guess, if all else fails, there’s some strength in numbers, yes?