Adulting fail once again

I should really write a book on all the idiotic things I manage to do. I never considered myself a disorganised or stupid person but it appears that is pretty much me. I’m very lucky I have a good network of intelligent people with lots of common sense around me…otherwise I’m not sure I would have survived to this grand old age of 29.

So asides from my latest Anna Idiot Moments of forgetting my bra when staying over my parent’s house and getting on the wrong train on the way back from London the other week, my latest adulting fail was rather more stressful.

Wednesday last week I headed to the Fiat  garage to get my car serviced. They handily gave me a hire car so they could do the service the next day. Unfortunately the hire car they gave me was HUGE. I could barely see over the steering wheel. A normal person would take their time aclimatising and adjusting but I felt like I needed to make a move or they’d think I was weird for just sitting there. So as I slowly navigated round the packed car park (lots of brand spanking shiny new cars about the place) I heard a noise and felt something knock into the side of the car. I only went bumped into one of their stupid signs. NIGHTMARE. I jumped out and see a small dent… nooo!

No one saw so I quickly drove off all flustered and panicked (the sign was fine by the way, of course). I notice that they’ve left me with no petrol as well, which further adds to my emotions of I HATE DRIVING. I survey the damage further at the petrol station (after putting a minimal amount in, God damn them). Yeah there’s definitely a dent. I take a photo of both sides to send to my dad later to see his opinion.I then arrive home and realise to my horror I’ve left my flat keys in my car back at the garage…and the garage is now closed. I also realise my parents don’t have their spare keys anymore as I got them to drop them off at the lettings agent ready for me moving out. WHY. WHY AM I SO STUPID.

I ring my mum and promptly burst into tears. It wouldn’t be so much of an issue as I could have just gone back to my parent’s but Alfie is inside the flat and I can’t leave him overnight alone! My mum, bless her, calms me down but ultimately can do nothing to help me. I accept defeat and ring a local locksmith who comes out and picks my lock for me. £78 later (ouch!) and I’m inside. Alfie has been asleep. He couldn’t care less.I spend that evening stressing about the car dent though… The next day when i drop the hire car back off I spend the entire time there sweating, waiting for them to check the car. In an amazing stroke of luck, the lovely guy that serves me doesn’t do any sort of hire car check (he didn’t do one before he handed the keys over to me the day before either…). I’m thinking this is a clearly a kink in their operation. Not that I’m complaining! I feel bad for him not checking as he might get a bit of a telling off about this but, at the same time, I can’t count my lucky stars quick enough as I (carefully) drive out of there in my shiny serviced NORMAL-sized Fiat.

So if anyone thinks that they haven’t got a grasp on life or they’d not a fully functioning adult, just look at me. I am regularly failing life. I do not have my shizz together. How the hell I think I can be a landlady for my flat, well I have no idea! If you want a laugh in life, just keep following what i get up to and I can reassure any doubts you have about how your life is doing. I wish I could learn from my mistakes but there are so many mistakes in life to make… But hey, you have to have a sense of humour about things. If I didn’t, I’d be a mess on the floor.

Have you had any recent adulting fails?

Do you like driving?

Not settling for mediocre

Another post around dating. I thought, why not as I have a few things on my mind.

I go through periods where I’m like “right, let’s do this!” and get really enthusiastic about going on dates and meeting new people. I re-install Plenty of Fish (*sighs*) on my phone and get about chatting to guys who’ve messaged me that don’t seem like a psycho/weirdo/offering a threesome.

I’ve been on some really lovely dates recently with a nice guy but sadly it just didn’t pan out. I’m not one for going into the nitty gritties as it’s hardly fair but I’ll just say he just wasn’t for me. This is much to my mother’s frustration because she couldn’t seem to understand why he wasn’t for me. Or why other dates weren’t for me. Or why men who she suggests aren’t for me.

In her eyes I’ve become too picky. I’m giving up on guys too quickly. I’m not trying hard enough. In fact this was something my friends mentioned to me the other day when I tried to explain why someone else I knew wasn’t for me despite being a) single b) around my age and c) a perfectly normal guy seemingly with his schizz together.

Before I delve too deeply into “becoming too picky” I will firstly mention that age (within reason) is actually not a barrier for me. I’m no spring chicken myself anymore and so can’t really afford to segment a good portion of the male species because they’re too old (or too young, but let’s be real here, I don’t think I’m going to attract many young’uns!).

Am I too picky though? Are my requirements for a partner too specific, too narrow and unrealistic? Maybe they are. But do you know what, why the hell shouldn’t they be? Why settle for a mediocre life? Why settle for “he’s nice” or “we seem to get on well”? Why can’t I have fireworks, explosions, rainbows and magic? Why can’t I have someone who I want to throw all my plans out the window for? Drive a million miles for? Ignore the alarm and miss the gym for?

Am I so far past it, so far gone, that I should just settle for who’s available who kind of ticks the right boxes because I won’t find better. Because I don’t deserve better.

Absolutely not. I REFUSE to settle.

Let’s be clear here. I’m not unhappy. My life is not empty. I may be alone but I am not lonely. I have a life full of excitement, full of plans, goals and ambitions. I have a fantastic network of friends and family. I actually love my life.

I am a whole person and don’t need someone else to complete me. I am not a puzzle with a missing piece. I am bloody good puzzle with all the pieces already stuck together and it looks pretty damn awesome. There may be that someone special and amazing out there for me but I’m not hunting them down and I’m not sat in a tower waiting for them to rescue me. I’m living my life exactly how I want to and if I happen to bump into “Mr Right” then fantastic. But until then, I won’t be settling.

Dating, what’s been your experience?

Am I being unrealistic?

Big changes ahead

I had quite a few different titles in my head for this post. Things like…. Have I failed? Two steps backwards to move forwards. Adulting is hard. Nearly 30 and starting again…things like that.

All the options were things that have gone through my head and in some ways make sense to the action I’m going to take. There are big changes ahead for me indeed. So the Cliff Notes version is: I’m moving back home with my parents. Yep.

I’ll start from the beginning. Towards the end of last year I was feeling really fed up, mainly with my job. As I’ve said before, I just wasn’t feeling that it was something I wanted to do for the foreseeable future. I was coasting along, getting my job done but getting more and more down. I was spending a good portion of my life at work but living for the weekends when I could do what I actually wanted to do. Not to mention the draining, long commute there and back every day.

I had no desire or ambition. Gone was the girl who left university ready to take on the world. Instead I was dreaming of the holidays and marathons I could run and justifying the rest of my time, where I was sad and bored, as a way to fund the more fun times in my life. So what my job wasn’t my passion? I could afford to go on cool holidays, go out for dinner all the time and buy unlimited pairs of leggings. I was living the dream.

But no I wasn’t. And it soon became very clear that the benefit of the solid paycheck wasn’t enough to keep me from sinking into a despondent, unmotivated and sad person. A few holidays a year doesn’t make up for the fact that the majority of my week I was spent unhappy.

So earlier this year I decided to look for another job that would be more in line with what I wanted to do. Something I had a genuine interest in. Having spent a good portion of my career in a quite different field, however, I quickly realised I had very limited experience. Searching for a job with a similar salary was laughable. I hadn’t a chance in hell. So I started looking for jobs from the bottom up. Grass roots’ positions where I could learn and hopefully work my way up. And this was obviously going to be reflected in the pay.

And so I took that pay cut. I could carry on living in my flat with my new job but I would be living hand to mouth every month, and that makes me very nervous. Yes I have savings behind me but I want them to remain there and not be eaten into if I fancy going on holiday or splurging on a trip.

Instead, after long chats with my parents and careful consideration, I decided the best decision would be to rent out my flat and move back home. Long story short, I’ll be moving in September (hopefully) and the money I’ll save will basically bump up my earnings back to a happy place.

I’m obviously extremely grateful to have parents that are so supportive and willing to have me come back home (*cough* my mum is ecstatic). As you’re probably aware, I have a very good relationship with both my parents so hopefully it won’t be a painful experience for anyone. I’ll have my space, they’ll have theirs.

Alfie will obviously be joining me (again, my mum is ecstatic). My parents already have three dogs and he gets on fine with them (though he’ll still sleep with me as he always does when I stay over). It also gives me a bit of freedom (ironically) because I don’t have to rush home all the time to make sure Alfie isn’t alone for too long. My parents have a lovely garden and he’ll be well looked after if I decide to go on a date, a spontaneous work thing or stay out late with friends.

So, a big change for me. For how long, I don’t know…

Have you ever moved back home with your parents?

Would you ever consider something like this?

Do you get on with your parents?

Feeling a bit lost

Initially I wasn’t really sure whether to write a post like this or not. But then I guess I like to be honest and transparent in my blog so might as well.

In general, I’m a very happy and upbeat person. I’m a glass half-full kind of girl. And a lot of times this can get me into trouble because I won’t have back-up plans or contingencies because I assume everything will be fine. I don’t like to dwell on sad things or not see things in a positive light – I’m very much an optimist. I’ll bat of things with positivity and jokes. Happiness is my default, and I know I’m lucky in that respect.

But lately I’ve been a bit down. I don’t really like to mention these sorts of things on my blog as my blog is, in general, a happy space where I waffle on about running and random fluffy stuff. But sometimes it’s good to be honest and to show that whatever you might see on the outside, it’s not necessarily true of reality.

I feel like I’m lost. I don’t know what I’m doing any more (did I ever? Does anyone ever?). I’ve just turned 29 and I don’t know where my life is going. I thought I had it all figured out. When I was growing up I studied hard, always with the goal of university and a career I loved. That sort of turned out as it should but other things happened and the years flew by and now I’m not so certain of anything anymore.

Yes it’s partly that horrible comparison trap again. Seeing what others are doing around me. My friends, family and people on social media all seeming to have such control and direction in their life. While I feel like I’m a ship in the middle of the ocean and I don’t know which direction to sail. I’m floating aimlessly. I’m not sinking but I’m not going anywhere either.

I’m happy in general, don’t get me wrong. Life is very good. I have a good job, I earn good money, I own my own flat, I have wonderful and supportive friends and family, I can go on nice holidays and buy nice things…I really have nothing to complain about. But I have no purpose and a bit of an emptiness inside. Oh I know, this is such a “first world problem” and one of those horribly cliched ideals of modern life. I am well aware of how blessed and lucky I am. But I still can’t help but feel down.

I think my issue is my current lifestyle. I live in a lovely suburban area full of lovely friendly people… but people who have their 2.4 children, their family homes and they’re all settled down. I however am not in that world. I don’t have kids, I don’t have a “family”. But nor am I living the lifestyle of a young (yes? I’m still young right?) single woman. It’s a full on 20 minute drive to get into town and the nearest shop to me is the huge Next Home shop and PC World.

I should be in the thick of it, amongst other young, carefree people who aren’t planning their baby showers or what they’ll do in the school holidays. But I’m not. I’m going to work and coming home, going to work and coming home. I can’t go out with my work colleagues because it’s an hour away from where I live (by car) and I have Alfie at home waiting for me. I can’t, on a whim, ring up a nearby friend and just head out for the evening because they either live too far away or have family-orientated plans. I’ve got all these barriers stopping me from living a proper single life. The only way to date is online dating and so far this has not gone particularly well. I feel like I’m watching life pass me by.

I’m happy and comfortable…But I’m worried that I’ll tick along like this on autopilot and one day wake up and I’m still single, still floating aimlessly and years have flown by. Something has to change I guess. It’s just being brave enough to make that change.

Have you ever felt like this?

What advice would you give?

Feeling left behind

I’m 28 years old (29 in June) and I realise this is not very old at all. And I won’t sit here and complain that I feel old and creaky, don’t worry.

I might not be a spring chicken anymore but I am not old (SOCIETY, DO YOU HEAR THAT!?). Yes I can see the fine lines on my face and the odd grey hair springing up, but I am not old. I am, however, in the minority among my friends now.

I have more pregnant friends, or friends with children or friends thinking about getting pregnant than I have friends who are not. In fact, I only have one close friend my age who is in similar position to me (i.e. unattached and childless).

I’m at that age when this is inevitable. Weddings have come and gone and time is a’ticking. My mum had my sister before she was 30 (I mean, I know it was a different time back then but still). Does this bother me? Well no not really because honest to God the thought of having children scares the living daylights out of me and I’m quite enjoying the way my life is right now. The freedom, the disposable income, the flexibility of booking holidays whenever I want, the lie-ins.

But whenever I tell my mum about a couple who’s gotten pregnant I can see a little part of her die inside. She’ll deny this but it’s true. Mother, I know you too well. And I do feel a little like I’m being left behind. I can’t join in with pregnancy conversations about morning sickness and the first trimester tiredness. I’m awkward around my best friend’s little ones. I stare in amazement at how she’s able to be a fully functioning adult, make amazing cakes and crafts, go to work and still be able to bring up two beautiful children. And she still looks amazing (Louise, you truly do).

But I’ll say it again, I’m happy with my childless life. Who knows, I might never have children. And that’s OK too. I never grew up wanting children or wanting to be a mum. I can count on my hand the times I’ve looked at a child or baby and thought, “it might be nice to have one myself”. I only have to see the Facebook statues, the Tweets, and hear the mums at the running club talk about how tired they are, how they can’t fit in a run because of Child One or scheduling conflicts or being too tired/stressed to realise that I think myself lucky to not have children.

Don’t get me wrong, I know that a part of me will feel like I’ve failed as a woman or that I’ve missed out on something crucial if I don’t have children (I know this is entirely incorrect and purely my own thinking), but right now that’s not how I think.

Yes I realise I am only 28 years old and I’m not exactly running out of time in the great scheme of things, but I defy any single woman to not have these little niggles and concerns in the back of her mind as she creeps towards her thirties.

Though I don’t want children right now, and I’m not 100% certain I’ll ever want them, I do feel like the odd one out. I’m running out of friends to turn to and chat about how good not having children is. Meet-ups and dinner dates are harder to schedule as babysitters are required or pregnancy makes things a bit more tricky. And I still get those side-eye pitying looks, almost apologetic smiles, when all things babies are being discussed when I’m there…

I don’t know where this post is going or what this post was for. To reassure myself I’m OK? To reassure my mum I’m OK? To sound like I protest too much? I don’t know.

What I do know is that something does need to change in my life. I’ve let things become a bit stale and stagnant. I need to do something to change things up. I need to embrace my single life and do something a bit more crazy than sign up to another marathon or go on holiday (and run a marathon). I just need to decide what and whether I’m brave enough.

Do you want children/have children?

Do you ever feel like you’re missing out on something?