Robyn’s Nest

Ever feel like you’ve got so much going on inside your tiny little mind that it might just explode? Well, that’s the way I’m feeling at the moment.

I’m a creature of habit and survive by meeting deadlines, having regular slots for regular activities and writing numerous “to do” lists. But frantic fever has set in and there is so much to be done.

• Holiday. While this should be a time of relaxation I have to find time to pack, wax and fish out my passport before I jet off to sunnier climes on Tuesday morning. And will I be able to go a week without checking my email? Probably not.
• Moving house. I’ve spent the past week lugging boxes from one place to another (why didn’t I choose a ground floor flat?!) and that’s just the half of it. My current flat replicates a modern-day bomb site as I attempt to pack things into boxes, shift furniture etc. It also means I need to notify various organisations of my soon-to-be change of address and spend hours on hold to BT in an attempt to get my phone line connected. And then there’s the actual big move which happens the day after I get back off hols. Stressed and tired is a bad combination. There’s also new stuff to find out - what day is bin day, which one is my allocated parking space, can my neighbours hear my loud music, is my landlord a nice guy, how long will it be until I get make-up on the bright white carpet?
• Dreaded diploma. Two nasty assignments coming up, both of which will require time and brain power. And I’m distinctly lacking in both. And I’ve just agreed to a PR research project which will no doubt require more of my time. Doh! Am also way behind on my PR reading and reluctant to read Planning and Managing PR Campaigns while sunning myself in Spain. Would much prefer the latest Jonathan Kellerman thriller.
• Netball. Recently got back into it after a year off and loving it. However, I’ve sneakily been training with two teams and the time has come to choose the one I want to play for. Do I choose the team I initially agreed to play for? Their fees are cheaper, they’re a less serious team but they haven’t trained much so I’ve not bonded with them. Or do I choose the other team? Their fees are double but the players are more my age and I’ve bonded with them during summer training. Eek. Dilemma. Need to make a decision soon and feel guilty that I can’t say yes to both.
• Work. Got loads on at the mo and feel my two week holiday is slap bang in the middle of what will be a manic time. Bad timing! I have lots of reading I want to catch up on and just don’t get round to it. I also feel I’ve lost my sense of what’s happening in the news. My last job involved me sitting at my desk every morning with a cup of tea and a copy of the Daily Mail. I don’t like reading news online, it’s not the same as flicking through a tabloid, so the only proper news I get is provided by the Radio 1 bulletins to and from work. Not good. Must get back into newspaper habit as current affairs is a big part of my job and I need to know what’s going on in the world. And that doesn’t mean the latest Big Brother task!
• Money. An overlap in rent and investments in new things for my new flat means I’m going to be skint for a while. Add to that the fact I need money for my holiday next week and I’m quite generous with my spending, it’s going to be a struggle to cut back. Might have to hide my credit and debit cards.

So, with so much going on at the moment I have made some drastic decisions. Cut down on alcohol consumption (apart from holidays and events) and spend more time reading. Get up earlier and read the paper over breakfast instead of my usual shower, dress, dash out the door routine. Focus on work and CIPR assignments as failure will mean doing them again and avoid any kind of dating/interaction with attractive males as this only leads to disappointment and misery. Going out less will also save on money and I do not need to buy any new clothes, shoes or bags until the autumn. Partying less and playing netball more should keep my BMI on the right side of 24 and I’m considering cycling into work. Sounds pretty boring doesn’t it! We’ll see how long it lasts.

I’ve been a bad sport today. I didn’t go to the cricket practise session at lunch time and was secretly pleased I missed it.

It seemed like a good idea at the time, volunteering to play in a lunch hour cricket league at work, and joining with my fellow comms workers to create a six-a-side team.

Then reality hit. It’s a bit cold today, cricket balls are hard, I’m not very good with small balls (catching them I mean), and I’m wearing inappropriate footwear for running around on a field.

So when a work call came through and ran into my lunch hour I was actually relieved. They’d all gone without me and I wasn’t sure where they were practising. They wouldn’t miss me would they?

Well, on return from my trip to M&S I found a map of the university campus I work at sitting on my desk with the cricket field highlighted in green. My excuse of not knowing where it is won’t wash a second time!

Anyway, all sport is good so volunteering was fine. But I somehow got pushed into being wicket keeper which I think means wearing gloves and a helmut. There goes my glam image.

I don’t even know what a wicket keeper is and was told it’s like a batstop in rounders. Batstop? I always thought it was backstop! Eek, this is not going to be a good display of my sporting skills.

I also have a fear of small balls after a rounders ball smacked me in the face at school. The sun was in my eyes and as I went to catch it the ball disappeared from sight and bounced off my face. I’d only had my brace taken off the week before and was a little concerned about my teeth falling out of my mouth.

So, looks like I’m stuck with this cricket business, despite missing practise today. People are already dropping out - bad knees, a dead dog (this girl doesn’t even have a dog) and hair getting wet when it rains. Looks like they need me, even if I am super crap. Oh, balls to it!

There’s a girl at work who keeps making me cry. It used to happen about once a week but now it’s happening daily.

Fear not, I’m not being abused by the work bully, it’s just that this particular colleague and friend makes me laugh so hard I cry. It’s costing me a fortune in eye make-up!

Yesterday she made me laugh because when I returned to my desk after a toilet break she wasn’t at hers. I would usually notice, she sits right next to me. After taking my seat she suddenly pops up from under the desk looking a tad red faced and muttering something about cables. Random, but hilarious.

Anyway, it’s mostly her blog entries that make me laugh, particularly the dog comment in this one and the £50 note one in this entry. Enjoy!

Today is the last day of March which means tomorrow will be April. No flies on me, eh! As much as I’m glad the clocks have gone forward and we’ll get lighter nights, I’m not looking foward to April; it’s gonna be a long month.

Why? Well, my dreaded CRT will be issued this Friday - the first essay/exam type thing as part of my CIPR Diploma and it means I need to pull my finger out and do some work. It means dedicating any free time I have to reading, studying, revising, researching - what ever you want to call it - so I actually know what I’m writing about.

This will be made increasingly difficult by the fact that three out of four Saturdays in April are taken up with work commitments. Well, the first one is my CIPR tutorial at the London Met Uni, then I have to interview some Naval pilots at a degree ceremony at The Barbican the following Saturday and then attend a degree ceremony in Torquay the Saturday after that. 

Add these work commitments and study/essay writing - I have less than a month to complete two essays and send them off - with the fact that I’ve launched my pre-summer fitness campaign and already I’m starting to loathe April.

If I want to look like a goddess on the beach this summer I need to start working on the old health and fitness routine now. I started this yesterday with a run (well, it was more like a long walk with a short run in the middle), a stint on the cross trainer and a few weights and sit-ups. I now have a huge blister on my heel and will no doubt hobble around the korfball court tonight.

So, April is gonna be a long month and one where fun things will have to take a backseat while I concentrate on work and study, with a bit of fitness in between. But it’s only one month and when May comes round it’ll be time to enjoy myself - or reward myself, even, for all my hard work.

The atmosphere in work is great today ‘cos everyone knows that when they clock off at 3pm, Christmas begins.

This is a new feeling for me, having had to work over the Christmas period every year since leaving college. And, quite frankly, it sucked. There really is no joy in returning to work the day after Boxing Day knowing that friends and family are still tucked up in bed and will spend the day scoffing chocs, watching nice films and catching up with mates and rellies.

Returning to the office - to put together a newspaper that no one will read - kinda kills the Christmas spirit for me. But this year is different. I have a new job with a company that celebrates Christmas by giving staff time off. And boy am I gonna make the most of it. This is the most festive I’ve felt in ages!

The weekend will be spent catching up with family - divorced parents means two lots of visits - and the obligatory visit to see nan (who is slowly losing her marbles and thinks I’ve been seconded to Milton Keynes on a special assignment. And she’ll no doubt ask me 20 times: “So dear, have you found yourself a young man yet?”)

Sunday will be my day, spent pottering at home, playing Christmas tunes, catching up with chores and cooking up a festive feast for Jen and Lisa who will accompany me to Morocco on Christmas Eve. Whoo hoo! We’ll tuck into tasty fodder, open gifts, watch Santa Claus the Movie and check we’ve packed our passports.

Yes, that’s right folks, I’m making the most of the Christmas break by jetting off to sunnier shores and kicking back for some proper r&r. What better way to end the year?

Merry Christmas to you all, ho ho ho!