The Final Day of 35

We shall see how this blog post progresses.  Will it delve into a pit of sorrow and loss?  Or rise to be a note of hope?  Or simply act as a testament on how I've come along in the past year?

Once 26th August arrived last year, I soaked in the sun and splashed about in the rain.  The lockdowns were over.  But caution was not.  Meeting people in outdoor areas and keeping one's facemask fixed were the main practices.  I was under the protection of a second COVID-19 vaccine.  And within one month I would be attending my first concert of this decade.

Yet the cracks in people were starting to show.  Myself included.  The workplace I had been within for nearly eleven years sank with entitled youth and toxic cliques.  The latter was nothing new.  Yet I misread stretched out hands for friendship.  The autumn of my thirty-fifth year was unbelievably turbulent.  Granted there were deliciously Halloween shaped cookies.  But the toxicity bubbled more than a witch's brew.  It was a curse I wasn't ready to bear.

I learnt that I couldn't trust everyone I'd like to.  When I learnt a supposed friend had twisted my words and threw them out to the one person who was always against me, my disappointment was that of untold fathoms.  Of course time has passed.  And I needed to be patient with the healing.  But the shake-up still rippled months later.

Another thing I have learnt is that this supposed friend was always going to throw me under the bus for their Queen Bee.  If it wasn't going to be then, it would have been later.  I've usually been second-best to a lot of people in my life - the fallback or the one to speak to only when everyone else clears.  And because I've been treated as such for a long time, I sometimes wonder if it's because I've felt this is the only attention I deserve?  That minimal, second-hand attention is better than none?  Or if others just generally prefer Queen Bees over me?  Actually I know the answer to that one now.

The first four months of my being thirty-five years old posed many questions about my worth, who would be my friend and whether or not I am somewhat a fool for falling to cater to certain people's requests for help; even though they would step on me as soon as look at me.

I think it's going to take more time for me to break free from this.  I guess what I have to acknowledge is that if I do anyone a favour; I cannot expect it to be returned.  Nor can I expect any degree of friendliness or approval - people are in it for themselves.  And although I want to believe there is good in all and more good than bad; these people have shown that I'm only useful when it comes to money for charity, shifts covered, information that only I hold - yet I'm the last in the line for any of these people when it comes to being included.  I should never have to continually chase someone else's approval - and I know that's a sure fire way to not get it.

As I said at the start; I'm not sure how this blog entry will end up.

Yet once the ACTUAL New Year hit; things did improve.  The toxic people who wanted nothing but chaos for me, solely so they could be entertained, were gone.  This was a fact confirmed by a figure of authority.  I had just refused a job that would have landed me with a couple of the troubling folk once again.  And with some money in my account; I made the decision I should have done long ago - I was to hand in one's notice.  "The time has come," I said as I passed a mustard coloured envelope to my manager.  That was the point of no return.

My Virgo traits do overrule me at times.  I calculated my salary, and the remaining payments that were due to me.  There were slivers of uncertainty.  The unknown was before me.  And I feared that my CV would now have a gap - a time that spoke of me being a potential lay-a-bout.

But I was at my job for over eleven years.  There were good times, great times...questionable times - and I had survived them all.

But quitting the cinema was still tough for me.  Nostalgia is a powerful drug.  And I had spent the best years of my life attending there.  When it first opened a close friend of mine worked there.  We headed there for many blockbusters.  Then I got a job there.  The amount of interesting people, friends, enemies, experiences, laughs, perks, movies and general good times I got where enough to keep me there for a long time.  I'm glad I had such wonderful years there.  I'm also glad I left on incredibly good terms.  Although things could have been very VERY different.

On 5th February of this year, I became something that I thought I'd never be.

Unemployed.

For the next two months I was able to sleep, rest, walk, read, watch television...it was a reliving of the lockdown's lifestyle.  I may have gotten too comfortable.

Once April hit I placed myself into the job market.  I was successful.  In more than one job.  Soon enough I slipped into one - for a well known television channel.  My writing skills were now flourishing.  My Virgo traits of being organised now sought to help categorise everything before me.  And although I have to take calls on occassion; my telephone manner has been praised.  I knew I could make the best of many situations.  This one took some adjusting.  There were mornings were I couldn't face reality at all.  But I've been assured that it can take up to a year to gain all the skills and navigational tools to manoeuvre within this, or any, job.

I was invited to two weddings within the past year.  Both of them had a fantasy theme.  One took place straight after the drama at work had unfolded.  Which was a welcome spark of joy. It was held at a castle in Newry.  Was rather proud to be placed on the table whose occupants dubbed it for the, "Gay Wizards."  For me it was a worthy reminder that there can be beautiful things in this world.  And that I can focus on my life - not the work I'm constantly being brought into.

The other wedding took place not three weeks ago.  In a gala hotel within the fields and meadows of Derby.  That was a a well organised and fun day. The following day one made his way through the town of Derby. I haven't spent much time there before.  For good reason.  Its main town has one decent pub with food and a shopping centre.  I found myself heading to East Midlands Airport earlier than expected.  I get more flushes of feelings there.  Stands to reason as I used it often when travelling to and from Belfast for my time at University.

I thought this trip alone would help spur me into looking at moving to the mainland UK.

And that could strongly be on the cards.  Yet for this particular moment I still have no idea what I'd like to do with my life.  All I know is that my 36th year on this Earth will be eventful.  Because I will make it that way.  The lockdown lethargy may have been dispelled on many others last year - yet I was was enjoying it still - using caution as my excuse.

I'm giving myself a huge Sláinte tonight as I 'Time Lock' this year.  The bad things that happened were meant to happen.  To give me the chance to be guarded, to be more careful and to love myself more for my own benefit.  I want to be a good influence on others.  But I've sacrificed far too much for others in the hope they give me even so much as a brief smile.

Vastly more important; the good things that happened this year were deserved to happen.  To hear some of my favourite rock songs belted out in Glasgow amongst a cyber circus of a stage.  To see love blossom and be expressed through weddings and couples who have gotten engaged.  To have met new friends.  To have started a new path in my career.  To have the time to read various books that help me see the world anew.  And to dream of finally finishing my own novel; the first of several.

I'm wishing myself the most wonderful of years ahead.  And I hope to see many of you along the way.

The Final Week of 35

At the moment Belfast's skies have been partying with all sorts. Yesterday morning I rushed to get some Vitamin D on my skin in the one single hour the sun wanted to be present. Since then it had been grey, dry, rainy, pleasant, unpleasant... Who knows what emotions the sky is dealing with?

With work reigning supreme I've not been able to give myself pleasure or leisure much. The days have been long at work. And although I've been feeling more confident, one has also felt exhausted. Four months after starting the job and I do sense the team are starting to trust me more.

But now it is Saturday. I have a drop of time to relax. Grocery shop. Socialise. And watch The Office. It's my last week of being 35 years old. And I've always treated the week to my birthday as one where I tie up loose ends. Such as finishing off box sets or returning things I've borrowed.

This past week hasn't been totally work focused. I managed to get to a Pub Quiz on Thursday. I've spoken before about the end of Summer. I met my friend Ciatriona at the Parlour, right beside Queen's University. Quiet than usual. Mainly because this is the deep breath before the plunge - the end of summer. The final couple of weeks before students all show up and the area becomes their hub again. Our group did not win this particular quiz - but I got a large pizza and Pepsi. My night was sorted.

The Queen's and Botanic area of Belfast always remind me of summer's end (as does Custom House Square). The summer before I left for University contained much love for adventure. Post my last breakup, my friend Claire and I went for coffee and cinema and charity shopping. And throughout the Queen's Film Theatre has always been a fixture - a sanctuary where I know I won't bump into people I don't wish to - and even if I do, I'm there to watch a movie.

I may try to squeeze all these items in on the one day - my actual birthday. For several reasons.

1. Carpe Diem.

2. Memories.

3. I need to walk a lot more and everyday. The working-from-home lifestyle has seen me put on weight. I hope I can still speedwalk.

Yet for this day I need a little more rest. What with the amount of work I've done in the past week, it's only natural to need to enjoy the silence.

Yet this time next week; 36 is where it all happens.

WorkWorkWorkWorkWork

With sun scorching the land and perceptions of, "good weather," across the continent; I've been sticking to my red-headed logic and have remained indoors. Although attending a job is somewhat responsible. Over my laptop I can see the children from the neighbourhood play in the street; probably enjoying the summer that seems endless.

Working from home has its perks. Yet one downside is you genuinelly see how much time is spent in a job. I often have a muted television playing behind me. Mainly because I work for this particular television channel; so I leave it on. Maybe due to a sense of loyalty. Or monitoring. Or that 24 hour news channels can burn their insignia and graphics onto the screen because of their perpetual presence. But I leave this particular channel on running. And with it I see a huge collection of shows. I'm not sure I gave into daytime television during lockdown. I find it somewhat a luxury; to be able to have free time to soak in the wholesomeness of the broadcasting.

Time management is something I'm still working on. At this time of year, close to my birthday, I do feel exhausted. With nearly another full year under my belt, I calculate whether or not I've done much. And in some ways yes I have. Managed to get to my first concert post-lockdown. Got to attend two weddings. Had major drama at my job and had to face the scary prospect that there was no one I could trust. Quit my last job with no plan on the next step. Started another job; navigating it with worry, disappointment, brewing confidence and a now worn keyboard.

But the lockdown laziness did still surround me. It may have been a balance of caution due to COVID-19 being dramatically present - and still is. If I'm being honest it may have been hesitation; because I still don't know what to do with the next step of my life. I do know now that I don't wish to be working all my life. I'm not talking about retirement. There's no guarantee I'll see that with rising retirement age, climate change and other factors. So I'm not willing to spend all my today's time working as if it'll bring me glory.

My father has "asked" me to cut the grass today. Well - suggested heavily that I have to. My first ever manager was the same. There must be something about Northern Irish men in their late fifties / early sixties where they think the ideas they have for other people (particularly younger people) to carry out will do the whole world good - but really they're serving themselves.

I may purposefully do a bad job of it so I don't have to do it again. Again - there is work that just won't benefit me too much.

The (half-way to) End of Summer

The week has had a few drops of the past. Welcome ones. Moments that have helped me seal, appreciate and see the journey that I've been through to come to the lessons I've learnt. And I feel much better about myself; that I now no longer bear any ill will towards others who have harmed me. These trials do come with a time period. Yet with giving myself more patience; I sense I'm becoming faster at recovering and learning from them.

The past two days I've not been in work. That's because my schedule fell onto this weekend. The weekend of Belfast Pride 🏳️‍🌈. It does mean I'll miss the parade. And a few friends who are gearing up to fly their rainbows high. But my best friend was in Belfast the last two days. And together we travelled to various pubs of Belfast; soaking up all the (in my case; non) alcohol choices we could. The city was ripe with crazy people. Not the sort involving Us vs Them as Belfast has contained in its past. No. This particular Thursday night my friend and I couldn't help but be faced with several people who had a derranged sense of humour. I'm not talking about finding a twisted joke funny. I'm talking about causing actual harm to other people. Sometimes it felt like Terry Pratchett's Ankh-Morpork has suddenely spilled out its craziness into the city. This is when one has to remind themselves that Pratchett bases his findings on what the world is actually like. That humans have always been chaotic. No matter which city you fall into; real or fictitous.

My friend and I found ourselves in McHughes for our last drink. Not just because it's a gorgeous looking pub; but because it's somewhat out of the way from the main City hotspots. True on Saturday nights it's difficult to get a chair. But on a Thursday my friend got to chose from several spots to ourselves. It was the perfect wind down.

And also, with it being at Custom House Square on a calm summer evening; it triggered my nostalgia.

That area always reminds me of the end of summer. The years following my University graduation; where I had gotten the first place of my own. Music festival Belsonic would feature in the last couple of summer weeks. In those days it would be held at Custom House Square. It was usually the chosen, "Rock," event I'd be in attendence to.

(2011) Thirty Seconds to Mars - terrible.

(2012) Paramore - I seemed to be the oldest there (aged 25).

(2013) Nine Inch Nails - wet. Due to rain. And an ex-lover.

(2015) (Redacted due to possibly being cancelled) - Great night as it was my birthday.

Once the gig was over I'd be off home. It would take a twenty-five minute walk. Safe. Due to a large police presence. And that a mass exodus of the crowds meant you were safe in numbers.

That bittersweet end-of-summer vibe always landed when those gigs were over.

We're currently around four weeks away from the end of summer. And the lessons I've learnt, even just this year, have been vast. The main one I'll mention here is to appreciate the bitter and the sweetness of the season's end.

But the sweetness is accelerated this year. Because my thirty-fifth year was one of the rough ones. And I may be glad to say goodbye to it. It joins my 19th year (the year of coming out) and my 22nd year (the year of trying to assert myself in the world yet was met with backlash) as one of the more difficult times. Where a small group of people felt I was expendable for their drama. That's happened before. But then maybe I need such a scorching from those people in order to know to stay away from them.

Again; another lesson. I'm very lucky to have the chance to learn them.

I sincerely hope my job is quiet today. That way I can enjoy some reading. Once I clock out, it's onto have a nice Pride 🏳️‍🌈 themed evening with a huge slice of rainbow cake and whichever queer related movies happen to look good.

So I'm wishing Belfast a very happy Pride. I just hope the crazies I mentioned before find something on television for today to keep them from causing harm.

If Party Rings are involved; I guess it's some kind of celebration

"I need this weekend to be exceedingly simple," I told myself yesterday.  Once I clicked, "Clock out," on my work's Timetable, I rushed every thought concerning my job out of my head.

Naturally a few items linger.  I sometimes worry that I've bought into the mundanity of a regular job.  That sitting for hours in front of screen navigating through administrational duties will slightly cyborg me.  But there are enjoyable moments.  Times where my creative flare is employed.  And when my pragmatism comes out to help someone; even if I'm learning for myself.  Hey; I'm someone too.

I'm still cooking at this job.  Skills are still being absorbed and learnt.  Techniques and tricks are picked up.  And I'm nowhere near as full of panic anytime the phone rings or a complex request comes in.  So with all this in mind, I tell myself that I'm heading in the right direction.

But it's a Saturday.  As if that means anything.  Next Saturday I will be working.  But right now is a time when I'm not clocked in.  And if there's anything I've learnt from previous jobs; I should not be carrying my work with me during my free time.  Which is why when the call for overtime was offered; I told myself that it would be a flat, "No."  I may be trying to save money; but am also in need of saving my soul.  By nourishing it with the world around and within me.  The last two year's lockdowns have proven to me that although I'm good at working; I don't wish to be constantly at it.  Especially after a decade where I did an excess of it.

My thought process is much more on what I have now.  And maybe a little for the future.  That a new chapter will soon be starting.  But mainly for now.  The health I have to enjoy.  The books I've bought in large amounts.  Even my cooking habits reflect this.  By becoming creative with what's present; I'm trying to make the best of what I have - instead of wishing for what I don't.

But the job's hooking-me-to-a-laptop has taken its toll.  It can be a hard process to continuously stick to.  Notably because my previous jobs have been so active and interactive.  On the plus side I do find my own creative writing a lot more pleasurable.

Yet my job is not the only reason I have felt the brunt of exhaustion.

Last week I felt my perpetual singlehood playing with my head.  Ninety-five percent of the time I'm grand being single.

Last Sunday night was the other five percent.

During last weekend I congratulated three people on either their engagement or gaining a boyfriend.  I spoke with another friend about this; and although he's also in a relationship, he did agree with me.  It can be exhausting congratulating everyone as they pair up.  Yet it's always the one way.  No one ever congratulates those who are single on such a lifestyle*.  And I know what a wonderful lifestyle it can be.

But with experiencing that on a Sunday night, before starting a five day run at a job that does need constant attention; Friday evening could not come soon enough.  Once it did arrive, I went on a walk, made a light dinner and was in bed with some radio politics talkshow that lulled me to sleep.  Saturday morning, well rested I indulged in some duvet time at 6:00am.  Rising up I washed my hair.  Spent some time wondering if it will ever have those curls I had when I was sixteen years old.  And headed out for a walk under Belfast's troubling grey skies.  They have yet to erupt with their tears.  Only a matter of time.

Today I have placed myself to my laptop.  And I hope to place various dreams upon the page.  So that I can prove to myself that mundanity doesn't have much of a chance to grip me.

Cher's late 90's hit Believe is playing on a Pride 🌈 playlist that I have on in the background.  I suppose I should take a leaf from the lyrics in such.  Though I have been single for nearly nine years.  And sometimes I'm itching to prove myself on these matters.  Other times I know the reality of there is nothing intrinsically wrong with me; and that I shouldn't be in any hurry for such.  Especially considering the potential I have to really change things within this year.  These latter thoughts and a wealth of (my own and other's) experience has kept me from investing in dating apps.  Which I feel is somewhat another triumph for me.  I am not spending my nights scrolling through profiles of people who have no interest in speaking with me.  As I mentioned, I spent last night getting to sleep early.  And my body and mind are much more nourished that what a night of nothing on apps would have done.

So once I'm settled in for tonight I shall have a frugal time with LGBTQIA+ films and Party Rings.  No doubt will try to arrange these in a rainbow colour scheme.  I shall use the largest mug I have for herbal teas.  And hold it, with my sense of self, close.

I may be single but I can still experience some kind of love.

*Although I've heard of the odd divorcee congratulating another recently divorced individual.

June Afternoon

It's sad that the wondrous Marie Fredriksson has passed away.  For me the first half of the nineties was often soundtracked by Roxette's songs.  It Must Have Been Love would belt out from my parent's first CD player.  And my mother's mouth.  The Look made any activity feel much sassier.  And Almost Unreal (my favourite) always reminds me of my first visit to the cinema on the Dublin Road*.

Yet for nearly every day of this month we can justify June Afternoon.  A song from a time when all seemed possible.  Naturally I fall into nostalgic sways concerning the 90s.  Not least for June; the month that goes on forever at school as pupils anticipate the long summer ahead.  Now because I don't get a large summer holiday; I somewhat extend the vibes into June.  I aimed to get onto doing summery items this week.  Heading to the cinema for blockbusters.  Walks in the park.  Attending gigs.  Playing pool with friends.  Coffee catch-ups.  Day trips to small Northern Irish towns.

And all this I intended to do in the first week of June.  There was coffee with a group I've been meaning to meet with.  A 'Woman's Work' gig is being played at the Oh Yeah! Music Centre in Belfast tonight.  Featuring a couple of friends who are flaunting their oh so good musical talents.  And I even planned a popping to the Strand Cinema in East Belfast.  A cinema at where I always end up in Screen 4.

Yet a positive COVID-test in the household has halted that.  Not me.  I'm perfectly fine.  No symptoms.  So far.  But after all that's gone on in the past two years; and knowing my own ethics; I can't in good conscious head out to various scenarios.  Not to mention that my father is being sent to England this upcoming week for medical procedures.  I don't wish to be responsible for bringing COVID home; stalling his chances of getting the attention he needs.

Tomorrow I should be able to take a test.  If negative, I should be fine with a couple of outdoor activities.  But for today; this June afternoon; I have scones and Alan Cumming's autobiography Stories From A Packed Life.  And tonight I shall carry on with various Pride themed films.  This Pride Month shall have more rainbows about.  I wish I was braver at times speaking about my feelings and being open to those I know will be disapproving.  After so many years of trying to be approved by others; these others have completely shown they have no interest in me.  So why should I be concerned how others see me?  Maybe I'm still learning.  Maybe I'm still aware that I live with my parents.  And maybe I still feel I'm that nineteen year old with the rest of his life ahead of him...and that I need to tread carefully.

But I'm ten times braver now than I was back then.  I don't hide the books I read or movies I watch.  Even if they are LGBTQIA+ related or not.  I no longer feel that air of judgement from others when it comes to me enjoying anything artistic.  For years I would go along with certain opinions just because it would make me feel safer.  And again, a lot of those people are no longer in my life.

As Marie Fredriksson herself would say, "Listen to your heart."

Swedish pop stars are rarely wrong.

*Super Mario Bros.  The Tom and Jerry Movie had stopped its run.  But as a seven year old, Super Mario Bros. was a joy.  I wish Bob Hoskins knew that his pain delivered some pleasure.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year (?)

Loved ones gather around their tree of colourful flags.

Drinks are held up to toast others from different cultures.

Acceptance and toleration toward others will bloom within the hearts of many.

Maybe Eurovision is the most wonderful time of year.

It may make those in Britain maybe re-question the whole Brexit decision.  I'm well aware Brexit has no bearing on Eurovision.  But the latter may induce a string of memory; of what Britain was connected to.  And the mess that it has caused.  Particularly in Northern Ireland.  Particularly this week.  You only have to type in, 'DUP' into Google to see what nonsense they're causing.  I'm just glad I've never voted for them.  Nor will I ever do.

But for today there's a sprinkling of joy.  Right now I have 2020's Eurovision album playing; the year we didn't get a full show.  Well, we got Netflix's Eurovision: The Story of Fire Saga.  Which I admit is brilliant.  I have a pasta recipe to try out.  There were many Italian influenced recipes I was leaning towards.

None of them include Damiano David; regardless of how delicious a dish he is.

It's been three weeks since I started my new job.  This coming week I must strive to start walking more.  Working from home has various cost-saving advantages that the lockdown had.  No transport is needed.  No money is required each day to fork out for lunch from a nearby outlet.  It does mean I have to be organised.  I need to build a better routine to start walking more.  The weight I put on during lockdown was passable.  Now I'm noticing that it's creeping up on me.  And today, as I ran about the various stores of Belfast, I found myself puffing like a smoker.

And the weather in Belfast has been kind.  My dermatitis has benefitted from a few sun rays (everything in moderation kids).  Moods have been lifted.  Reading caught up in the quiet of my parent's back-garden.  So I'm not sure what my excuse is.  Possibly giving into comfort too much.

Which leads me on to think more about what I'm to do this year.  I've spent so much time in the past two and a half years making the best of it.  A comfortable setting when we weren't allowed to mingle.  It's possible my mind and body have become all too adapted to it.  That's maybe why I didn't take the in-person customer service job at a well-known soap store.  Being in a location other than my own bedroom?  I may have become too much of a recluse.  At least in my chosen work, I have a comfortable setting within my own control.

But once this summer is over I will need to make a decision.  To try something / somewhere new.  I'm worth more than I've been led to believe by various toxic folk.  So why not?  It's up to me to make this life a lot more full of texture.  Things will happen.  Good and bad.  And I'm starting to learn that for now, I'd rather those occur than nothing.

I may eat my words at that however.

Yet for tonight's Eurovision events and the coming summer; a little 'nothing time' is what I need to spur me into an adventurous spirit.

End of Summer (A re-used title no doubt)

The average life expectancy in the UK is just over eighty-one years old.

Well that means if we split it up into seasons, we could consider the final quater of those the 'Winter Years'.  And with me turning thirty-six at the end of this August; it means my 'Summer Years' are nearing their end.

This is not a complaint about getting older.  Nor am I dipping into the powerful drug of Nostalgia.  Instead I'm applying this to my current situation.

Since last week I have attended a trial shift at a well-known soap store.  Before being offered a job at well-known soap store.  Yet in-between this, I was offered a job at another company.  And while the pay wasn't particularly greater; the set-up may work to my current period in life.  Better than the well-known soap store.

Within the thirty minutes at the well-known soap store trial shift; I found myself circling.  To engage with customers.  To let them know I was there.  To help demonstrate all the products.  And maybe this was part of the issue.  At my previous job, my presence was always noted.  I'd be the most approachable of persons.  Even to the point where some customers would mistake me for manager.  I had been there so long I suppose my comfort in the surroundings lent me a degree of confidence.  As such customers would gravitate towards me to help solve more complex issues.  Something to be proud of.  I can be a reliable source of information and flexible in problem solving.  Even rereading that line makes me realise how much I've been focusing on CV writing of late.

The well-known soap store's employee basis all seemed in the mid to early twenties.  Again this is not a complaint.  What I've discovered however is that my priorities are dramatically different.  I have no real need to socialise with my co-workers.  Heck I've spent the majority of the last five years trying to seek a life AWAY from work.

So it was with a hint of sorrow that I had to decline the offer at the well-known soap store.  Have I done the right thing?  I'll let you know at the end of August.

The true end of summer.

On the notions of sunlit evening skies ending; I'm having to relearn another lesson.

Letting go.

Back in 2009 I had the worst summer break imaginable.  After an incredibly sorrowful and heartbreaking year at University; I got home to my siblings who fell out with me and my part-time job that was horribly mundane.  Add that with constant reminders of how other's lives seemed better; I was in disbelief how everything had just turned against me.  And all I felt I was doing was trying to assert my place in the world.  (In hindsight this probably ruffled feathers because I was considered to already be put in my place due to how others saw fit.  And that's even more horrible.)  The only things that kept me going that summer was the inevitable return to Leicester for my final year at University.  And my friends Claire and Natasha.  Naturally we spent as much time at the cinema as we could.  The sun may have been shining but our pale skin wanted to soak in celluloid.

When the first lockdown hit in 2020, I was placed on furlough.  For over four full months I had the finances and excuse to enjoy time alone.  The weather was pleasant.  My book collection was ready.  Many DVDs that my parents had bought over the years were consulted.  This is exactly how I would have spent a frugal summer as a teenager.

The first lockdown was the summer I never had.  So when the second Autumn lockdown came along I felt prepared for it.  And when the third winter lockdown started; I knew I'd be fine.  Although the latter was difficult.  The novelty of free time had disappeared.  And trying to read heavy volumes one after the other became a task when the weather was so grim.  I needed bright cartoons and soup to see me through.

Yet since the beginning of March 2020, I have only been in work for around forty-five weeks.  I have gotten used to free time all too easily over this period.  And I have to admit that my accepting of this new job has been difficult.  Initially I've been nervous.  Scared that I may have chosen the wrong role.  Concerned I may be giving up my soul too easily for a monthly pay.  And unsure if I have what it takes to carry on.

"You look like your soul is crushed," said my friend Ciatriona.  We were sitting in Belfast's new cosy bar; The Reporter, found on Union Street.  Scented candle-light between us.  The two of us have been living with our parents.  And together we discovered the niggling things they can say that try to sway us into work all too quickly.  We agreed that it comes from a good place.  Yet within ourselves, youth maybe wants to strike the balance of security and potential.  But it also fears that if we select one, the other will be out of reach.  I know there will be those who also debate that if you don't choose one; it'll be chosen for you.  And that can be even worse.

The point I'm trying to make here is that I'm sensing my own End of Summer.  In the next few days I may be able to translate it in my own head towards excitement and the beginning of a new chapter.  Yet because I've had such an extended summer; I am simply scared that it has to end.

On the plus side; I've also carried lessons from my previous jobs to bring with me.  These include (and are not limited to) making sure I don't invest my entire being into this role.  It's great that I'm getting into employment; it does not mean I'm getting into a rut.  And I can change things.  If I find I'm not happy I can change things.  Not just make the best of things; that only works so far.  No; an active shifting of my surroundings, the people I draw attitudes from and, by extension, a whole lookout; none of these should be set in stone.

The Long Good...Saturday

The bottleneck of job applications was about to pop this week.  So I was grateful for the various interviews that took place.  Even if I wasn't so savvy in avoiding mistakes during them.

Ultimately I had hoped to start looking for jobs in May.  But if I started looking at the beginning of April; there was a stronger likelihood of beginning work for the former.  As it takes around four to eight weeks to find a job.  According to various (London based) articles I had read throughout the internet.  I realise that sounds like a made-up statistic.  But if one uses their head, I do see that timeline make sense.

With yesterday's Good Friday marking the last six weeks of Spring; it's apt that I refer to this time as 'Spring Part. 2'.  Even if I end up sleeping in on these days, I should be able to get up and make something of the day.  And with the waiting in jobs to get back to me; I have a bigger spur in confidence that I'll soon be in employment again.  Call Centres may become an option.  Yet they are the FINAL option.  Too many warnings and cautionary tales have been told to me about them.  My soul and mental health are far more important than making a quick buck.

Soon I'll be heading to Forestside Shopping Centre; in the hope to find discounted pizza and remaining Easter eggs.  For tonight I may dive into the Coen Brothers' catalogue as there's a few titles I've not seen.  Writing at 5am has taken a dive.  Because I sense the end of my free time, I am relishing every moment my duvet lets me cling to it.

Currently listening to vacuuming outside my bedroom door.  And Mark Kermode's show on Scala Radio.  The most eclectic range of movie soundtracks I can find.  Even more so than BBCRadio3's Sound of Cinema.  Although the latter is a Thomas Newman special today.  And I adore those sleepy piano scores he's tinkers on.  For American Beauty, WALL-E, Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events...he is a subtle wonder.

I foresee an eventful week ahead.  Already I've been asked to attend a trial shift at a prominent soap store chain.  There are many movies to catch up on.  And the pasta recipes circling my head are easy to the point where my dopamine flares up once the dish is served.  Achievements are important in life.  But they don't always have to be difficult ones.

I could even treat myself to alcohol-free beer.  But then the sugar levels in the chocolate eggs may be more than my body can handle.  The other night my dad said, "Don't take this the wrong way, but you're not young anymore."  He's kind of right.  So as long as I'm good to myself.  Both in pleasure and preservation; I should be all right.

The Show is Going on.

Within the past two days I've accomplished a lot.  And not putting down a rigid schedule has been part of the reason.  In the past I felt I had to place down an active life just to ward off people who made me feel complacent.  Now I just have to say, "No," if I don't want to.  However I have found I am genuinely busy these days.  Even for someone who is unemployed.

Speaking of which; I have been applying for jobs.  Two of which have been offered.  Yet I turned them down.  Both were impractical.  I could have been working in the dead of night.  And it's two hours away.  Belfast doesn't have the infrastructure to help transport people to and from this desolate area.

I have not lost heart yet.  If anything the beginning of April has spurred me on to continue looking.  To be more myself.  To not worry about those who moan or wish to create drama.  So many people had their chance with me; and I've put myself down long enough to believe that I had to fight for a place in their lives.

I have myself.

And a huge book collection.

And my own writings to carry on.

I'm alone.  But never lonely.

But I do need to get walking again.  I'm getting out of bed.  Although not always at a reasonable time.  I've had eight weeks were I've not been working.  And similar to lockdown times; my activity is restricted to the household.  Which is a shame considering I have a beautiful park only fifteen minutes away from me.  I can venture further.  Slipping into Botanic Gardens.  Even walking there and its neighbouring street bring back memories of a Belfast in the 90s.  Where students were just trying to have a night at the cinema and local pubs whilst the rest of the city tore itself apart.

At the same time I'm not being hard on myself.  I've done that for too long.  Sometimes I sense others wish me to continue doing so.  I need to be hard at work when it matters, not hard on myself when it doesn't.

Last night I watched Disney+'s Better Nate Than Never.  I was surprised at how much I enjoyed it.  It felt like a Disney Channel Movie but with a clearer agenda.  And production value.  In my experience Disney Channel movies of yesterday (with the exception of High School Musical - the clue is in the title) are ninety minutes of sassy teenagers being given crowbarred-in songs and annoying villains.  This one had a young boy who has an unrivaled love for musical theatre.  He has occasional dreams that take place in a Broadway set.  And it was here I felt that this was't a cost-cutting measure in the way his dreams were being played out; it was a deliberate choice to stick him on a colourful cardboard set.  I was fully charmed by this film.  There were a few digs at the acting profession which I found very funny.  Maybe because of my own experience with dramatic types these jokes felt very accurate.  And it was great to see Lisa Kudrow.  I'm not sure I get to make that 'squee' moment over her considering I detest Friends.  But she was part of Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion and The Opposite of Sex; two blisteringly funny (and sometimes nasty) comedies of the late nineties.  Along with Feel Good she is solidifying her role for LGBTQ+ material.

Today is Saturday.  And as such I have sent one application off, written this blog entry and am about to meet a friend for coffee.  Tonight I will have cheap pizza and a remote control with plenty of options.  None of which I'm scheduling.  I hope you all have a wonderful weekend.

Rejection Correction

Time is moving onward.  And with this; I need to be looking at filling my employment gap.  So I have been scanning the various job websites.  Dreaming about what I can potentially do.  And sticking to what I can ACTUALLY do.  One has chosen patience over panic.

But for how long?

With St. Patrick's Day in the middle of this week; I thought it only right to have it as a holiday.  I very rarely got St. Patrick's Day off when I was working.  I got 2013's St. Patrick's Day off.  But aside from 2017 when Beauty and the Beast was released; March 17th was a beguilingly boring day at the cinema.  You'd be dealing with absolutely nothing, despite Belfast City Centre booming with life.

This year I stayed in-doors.  With an Irish theme running around me.  I baked my first Irish Soda Bread.  If I was to make an assessment I'd say next time to not use as many caraway seeds or as much buttermilk.  The former's taste was alien to me.  I spent a period of the day wondering what this questionable flavour was.  Initially I thought it was because I had used a line of butter on the grease-proof paper on the baking tray; giving the base a battered melt.  But as the bread cooled, its texture realigned and my brain had a time to process the new exposure; I have discovered it was an overdose of caraway seeds.

But there was more.  I spent the day reading Bernard MacLavarty's Collected Stores.  Five collections of his all composed into one volume.  Ranging from 1977 to 2006.  Almost like the initial Star Wars series.  And similar to them; it was the later ones that weren't as memorable.  Maybe because they didn't take place as much in Northern Ireland.  I'm terrible for falling into the parochial feeling that this island offers. Tea and bakeries and colloquial language and old fashioned decor...  When I step into any old style pub in Belfast or a cafe / restaurant that have gone for a vintage style; I slip into such warmth.

Usually the BBC creates a concert for St. Patrick's Day.  The past two years were a little difficult.  I think they ran an archived session due to not being able to host.  Yet this time round an hour concert named Ceiliúradh Na Féile Pádraig (available on BBCiPlayer until February 2023) was broadcast.  After having a scrumptious Belfast Pizza, I took my second (alcoholic-free) Guinness and let the fiddles and voices wrap themselves around me.  The Keane Family's rendition of My Belfast Love was particularly affecting.  And there were other rises of emotion and heart-tickling notes played throughout.

But once Friday came; my hangover-free hangover was about to begin.  The whole of the Holylands in Belfast was probably decimated with chaos and vomit from drunken students.  The City Centre sprinkled with green and gold confetti.  And I...

I applied for two jobs.  Both of which rejected me.  One of them got back to me by 9:30am.  Which I appreciate.  No more lurking around thinking if the job is in the bag or what to prepare...a straight off rejection was a double-edged sword.  I could move on.  But not so quickly.  Rejection is something we all have to face.  I know my mother, bless her, gets more frustrated with it it on my behalf than I do.  I'm quite confident of my abilities and adaptation to new processes and work loads.  Yet it's that feeling the rest of the world has no interest in letting you prove this.

I'm fortunate to be living with my parents.  My expenditure isn't high.  So I can be a little more flexible in the time I use for work.  And if I'm totally honest I keep a little smirk on my lips, knowing what I could have done for such a business or a company - and they have lost out on me.  You could argue I'm treating the job market like my past dating life.

Only time may change this attitude.  Soon I will need a job.  And I wonder if my desperation will get the better of me.  I'm hoping it'll be my bravery that'll flood out; correcting the rejecting.  Causing such a change of my circumstances that I will be questioning why I didn't do it sooner.  

Lockdown Lethargy

Illness.  Uncertainty.  Fears of what the future may look like.

The majority of the world went through these turbulent feelings throughout the past two years.

I've only been experiencing them in the last two weeks.

When I left my job, I got much encouragement to take time for myself.  Invest in some writing.  Enjoy the books I've amassed over the years.  Smell the roses.  Or whatever scented candle B&M Bargains has for £2.99.

So I have done.  With naps in-between.  Recipes with the radio.  Walks with a smile.  I live a wonderfully frugal life.

But when fully awake; my brain has been doing calculations on my finances.

And then it's done Stock-Market-type sums on what my future is going to be.

Do I attempt to move to London?  Manchester?  Anywhere?

Will I actually finish my writing to be fit for publishing?

My father and I agreed that I tend to scare myself off doing things in life because I calculate so much that could go wrong.  It's a habit I'd like to break.  As for being unemployed...  Lockdown with Furlough period was too much of a good thing for me.  I got used to not having to work.  I was enjoying the smaller things in life that I always wanted to around a full time job.  During this period my body and brain got doses of a relaxed lifestyle.

But now with no further money coming in, one has to be careful.

Yet when it comes to my future, reckless could be the way forward.

The Return of Saturday Blogging

I'm not sure if Blogs are still as relevant as I was taught back at University.  That was fifteen years ago.  Personally, I like them.  I've missed them.  And they give me a sense that I'm doing something worthwhile.  So I think it's wise that I'm returning to mine.  One may have to update the profile photographs.  We wouldn't want my readership to believe I look younger than I really am.

This weekend has me planting Batman movies at spots to sit through.  For two reasons.  

1.  A new Batman film is on the way.

2.  I still think I'm in a Lockdown Universe.  

On the second point; I've not been on a major night out since early March 2020.  Not that that bothers me.  The music that plays in various premises can usually be found on any radio playlist.  It feels a scam paying to hear what I can enjoy for free at home.  Yet even then I don't generally listen to the charts or, indeed, whatever platform artists are using today.  Not to mention that I gave up alcohol the past two years.  I didn't have a problem; I just didn't want nor need it.

And before I accuse myself for sounding old, let me mention that I have no problem doing so.  Priorities have dramatically changed.  A huge dollop of realism is dropped upon me every other week.

But during the lockdowns I started to relish in the home surroundings.  With books I've bought but never read.  The DVD collection my parents amassed over years around bargain bins.  And what Freeview television can offer usually eclipses that of streaming services.  And even then, you can access various streaming services for free.  Granted you may be faced with watching old episodes of Baywatch or a small selection of recognisable but questionable movies from the 1980s.  But the resources are there.  I've said so many times before that you don't need a lot of money to live a cultured and enriched life.  

On writing however; I will have to make more of an effort.  In all the fashions of getting my words down on paper and out there for readers.  I have been unemployed for just over three weeks.  This has been a useful time for me to reassess what I can and can't lose.  And because I live a frugal life now; I don't have much to throw away.

Next week I hope to continue my blogging entries.  And between now and then I'll have something substantial to write about.  But for now I wish you all a wonderful weekend.