A Salopian in Suffolk to paints and writes herself into existence …
I’ve hit the big time! I’ve done it!
Today, I received the grand total of 1001 likes on my blog, for which I received ‘Congratulations’ from Word Press. Is this just the start? The start of my new life as a remote being?
Why haven’t I reached the big 1, 000, 000 yet? Come on viewers!
Copyright owned by Jay Cool, May 2019
P.S. Ricardo Scribblero, my one and only reader, can’t you just like me 1, 000, 000 times? Oh, go on!
Image by David Mark from Pixabay
Disclaimer: This post contains affiliate links to Amazon products. If you choose to make purchases, I will receive a commission at no extra cost to yourself.
So, how many words of my ‘book in a week’ have I churned out since yesterday?
None.
Zero.
Zilch.
Mrs Hinch is, of course, to blame for this prevarication! How?
I have just spent several hours in the company of Brillo pads and Elbow Grease, scrubbing at the glass on the inside of my oven door. And because I am not one of those sad bloggers, who posts photos of everything they do, including all of the meals they eat, then here is the evidence:
Now I appreciate that this door might not look very clean to you (i.e. my one loyal viewer, Ricardo Scribblero), but in the ‘before’ pic, that door was completely opaque. If not especially clear, then it is at least now translucent. And the poor quality of the photo can be blamed on the sunlight coming through my kitchen window, and my Nokia phone.
Yes, for those who are familiar with my Back to the Myddle posts, then I have said goodbye to my loyal Motorola phone, supposedly for an upgrade. Can’t say I’m impressed, the Motorola may have been more-than-a-little on the slow side, but it did take good photos – and they were usually in focus! Shame on you, Nokia! Your phone is costing me £1 a month more than the Motorola – and for what?
The opening page of my book is yet to be written, but I have a cleaner-than-before oven door, so that is surely something to be proud of. Besides which, then today is Saturday! Who writes books on a Saturday?
And before you get the idea in your head that my new life, outside of the Day Job, is never going to get started – then, think again! Today, as well as cleaning my oven door, I made a further significant move in the right direction. Today, I …
applied for a job!
A job? Am I crazy? Does getting out of one job entail getting into another?
Don’t stress, folks (i.e. Ricardo), this is not a day job as such. The job I applied for can be tackled at any time of any day or any night – all at a time of my choosing! And I will not have to meet the boss, because the boss will be a very expensive flight away in the USA. I’ve applied for a remote writing role, producing the content for literature revision books. And as long as the first commission they send me is to write a literary analysis of the new ‘Miss Ginger’ book, I’ll be made up! ‘Miss Ginger’ is on the American syllabus for secondary school students – is it not?
Then, once I’ve completed my analysis of ‘Little Miss Ginger’, I can move onto the analysis of my own forthcoming book, which is sure have been earmarked for the 2019-2020 curriculum!
Right, I’m onto it; I have the opening chapter of my book in my head as we speak!
Just nipping back to the kitchen to hoover up the bits of congealed fat that fell out of the oven first, and then I need to mop the floor with some of that Zoflora stuff Mrs Hinch goes on about. And then ….
Copyright owned by Jay Cool, May 2019
Click on the image and/or text links below, if you wish to purchase a bargain pack of all your favourite Zoflora fragrances from Amazon.co.uk (or even some Brillo pads!), and I will receive a commission at no extra cost to yourself (go on, Ricardo, you know you want some!).
Mr Muscle Brillo Multi Use Soap Pads, Pack of 10
Sadly, Amazon has not yet seen fit to add ‘Little Miss Ginger’ to their product list. Get with it, Amazon! Ginger is in!
Is it possible, I ask you (i.e. myself) to write a book in a week?
How long will Mrs Hinch stay away for, if I just sit down at my desk and write on and on and on?
Will she place her rubber-gloved hand on my shoulder and entice me into my kitchen to see the pile of dirty crocks, the scattered breakfast cereals and vegetable-peal-coated floor? Will she force me to keep company with the many bottles of Zeflora that now adorn my under-sink cupboard? Would that be a good thing or bad?
Do I need a clean kitchen or a book worthy of a million dollar publishing deal?
The answer’s out there for all to see (all my viewers, i.e. my ‘one’ viewer)!
I have a whole week off from the day job, before I have to return and work out the rest of my notice. The Zeflora can stick it!
I’m going in for the book challenge.
Track my progress.
Check me out.
Can the me that is not me, the me that writes, write a whole book in a week?
Take a quick read of the poem devoted to my ‘one’ viewer, i.e. become my second viewer, or even my third, and make my day! And I’ll do my best to make a ‘Week’ of a book!
Image by Mabel Amber, still incognito… from Pixabay
One.
One person viewed the not me that is the me that
wrote the latest but not the last
one.
If you are the ‘one’, please read another of my silly poems, e.g. Deblobbed.
Image by Henryk Niestrój from Pixabay
Nested.
Never mind all the rest;
never mind the endless tests or the race to be best ………
or the boys who were
nothing –
nothing more than the rest –
just pests!
She wanted nothing, nothing more, and
nothing less, than a place, a place for a rest;
her very own –
nest.
And now, now she’s nested, her foot taps and her lids twitch, and she f l i c k e r s …
Restless.
Copyright owned by Jay Cool, May 2019
Please read another (or all) of Jay Cool’s poems!
Start with: Vagabond.
Image by Barroa_Artworks from Pixabay
Another day over. Am I wishing my life away? No, I’m counting down the days until my life starts again. Life minus the boss.
Perhaps I shouldn’t knock it; the boss pays, and I can’t say that my inbox is full of demands for my services as a savvy freelance writer. Is it the savvy bit that’s putting off the clients? Do they require a little more of the silly? Or should I do a merger of my two personalities and rename myself Sally? And, if I did call myself Sally, would I have to fend off requests from all the Worzel Gummidges of this world?
Can I even afford to be picky?
Come on all of you Worzels out there! Any of you need your life stories writing up? Are any of you even alive? Give yourselves a bit more space to live in. Let go of some of that stuffing!
Breathe!
Getting Out of the Day Job 9: A Diary
Image by Screamenteagle from Pixabay
It’s silly, but …
… now that I know I’m leaving, that there’s an end in sight, I’m actually quite enjoying my job. A strange phenomenon that I’m putting down to relief. The anxiety has lifted and I’m feeling all floaty.
All floaty, happy and even a little bit (a lot) giggly!
This morning, I floated on into work, smiling at everyone, friends and enemies, and bursting into joyful song. It’s unlikely that any of my co-workers felt similarly joyful upon hearing my flat notes but, somehow, that thought just made me all the more cheerful.
And, strangely enough, in the late afternoon, I floated on out again.
This evening, at home, I float on into the night-time, and through to another day.
Savvy.
Feeling flat following the grand finale of ‘The Durrells’ TV series? Missing Corfu?
Me too!
And I’m especially gutted about the end of the romance between Louisa and Spiro. Okay, it was inevitable – of course, he couldn’t leave his children behind on Corfu! And we all knew it would end this way, but that doesn’t make the ending any less painful.
With my head full of disappointment – even us adults need the occasional happy ending, a light appeared in the midst of my sorrow. Alright, the light is actually a book, but we all have our own medicinal passions, and books just happen to be the one and only essential item in my first aid box.
In this case, the book is particularly cheery, being authored by none other than Gerry – the youngest Durrell. Another factor lightening my mood is the knowledge that I spotted ‘Look at Zoos’ in a random selection of pay-what-you-like-us secondhand books at Tesco. Gerry Durrell! I could hardly believe it and, before my sanity returned (it never returned) I found myself feeding coins into the charity box (and no, I didn’t notice what charity it was for – I was high on excitement) and taking my new ‘baby’* home with me.
You’re right! Well spotted – that ‘Look at Zoos’ is a children’s book title, and that being middle-aged I am clearly not a child. But, come on, admit it. Like myself, your all-time-all-favourite books were aimed at children and, like myself, you first read these books when a fully-grown, full-functioning adult. And, like myself, you read them over and over and over again. So, bring on …
Reading Time: 30 mins max.
Reliability as a cure for sadness: 10/10
It’s truly a delightful book and I would highly recommend treating it as a manual for how to survive in the modern-day workplace. So amazing that Gerry, the free-spirit, who spurned all attempts to reign him in, should be so generous as to share his survival tips with those of us who feel similarly crushed. Take this example;
‘Don’t tease the animals (boss). Don’t poke an animal (boss) to wake it up if it’s asleep. Don’t feed (do disturb) the animals (the boss and his/her cronies) where the notice on the cage (their office doors) says you mustn’t. Don’t rush madly from cage to cage (boring task to next boring task), because in this way you will miss seeing the most interesting things (e.g. your boss’ flies being undone, following a session with his/her employee of the week), for whether you observe an animal (your boss) in the wilds (showing his/her face amongst the plebs) or in a zoo (the loo (NOT RECOMMENDED!)) the important thing is to be patient. Keep a notebook and see how many interesting things you can record about the animals (him/her). In this way I hope that you will find a zoo (your workplace) twice as enjoyable to go to.’ (Durrell; pp.95-96)
So, to sum up this review – for a short-lived, but nonetheless very uplifting, medicinal reprieve from sadness, read all about anteaters, elephants and hawks, courtesy of a very knowledgeable Durrell!
And, then, for a long-term-follow-up dose of pick-me-up drug, read every single one (almost up to 400!) of Jay Cool’s very, very, silly blog posts.
*Mrs Hinch – take note! Books are babies; cleaning sponges are – just cleaning sponges!
N.B. Jay Cool would like you to know that the words in brackets are not quoted directly from Gerald Durrell’s book, which is why they are better than Durrell’s words, i.e. Gerry was not female, and neither was he silly or savvy (i.e. Jay Cool has the edge!).
Image by Imagine_Images from Pixabay
So much for giving up the day job. Spent the day, today, working. Not at my workplace, but at home; at home, for my workplace. For the workplace which I have given up; but which, in turn, has not given me up. The workplace that still expects me to do more work for it – for many, many more weeks until I have worked out my notice.
I volunteered for redundancy for many reasons. One of which, was the amount of work from work, that I find myself doing at home. My home is my workplace, and my workplace is my home. No more will these two locations have their boundaries so blurred. From now on, my home will be my only workplace, and the work that I do will be for me!
For the one and only me!
And yet – today, I spent my day, the day on which I don’t work, working for that other place. What will I do with my days at home, when I have no big boss employer to do work for? What will there be to complain about then? Will I even still be me; Me, the one who is defined by complaining about the demands of my 24/7 job?
Still me?
How absurd – the one whose life was defined by her workplace wasn’t me! She wasn’t me, so I will not still be her.
When there is no longer any workplace to complain about, I will be the me that I have always been.
Hello me!
Copyright owned by Jay Cool, May 2019
Please refer back to my earlier diary entries, e.g. Giving Up the Day Job 6.
A response to Sofia Tindall’s article, about the stigma of mental health.
It’s a Friday morning and, keen to create a poem, I browse my news feed for some inspiration, only to be confronted with the revelation, courtesy of Sofia Tindall (journalist for Grazia) that the mental health stigma still exists!
A revelation?
Hardly!
I read on and am told that mental health awareness has improved since Britney’s breakdown in 2007, but that, as a society, we have still not come far enough. The solution to this, it seems, is to sign up for a petition demanding the provision of ‘mental-health first aiders’ in the workplace.
Immediately, I see an issue:
Why the petition?
One brief mention, will surely be all that is required!
Confused?
In which case, does the following entry in the ‘Diary of a Boss’ (by Jay Cool) ring any bells?
____________________________________________________________________________________________
‘Today, I received an email from Ted, requesting the provision of a mental-health first aider for the office staff. This is a fantastic idea. Not only will it support our company’s application for the workplace well-being award, it will also prove invaluable in helping to identify candidates for our next staff cull.
First on my list – Ted!
Ted’s on a high wage and, judging by his priorities, is well on his way to a breakdown. We must be rid of him before that happens. In, the current economic climate, we can’t afford to pay sick leave, and we’re hardly short of younger-cheaper job applicants.
But, first things first.
Must get that ‘first-aider’ in!
Value for money, or what? We can keep track of which employees make use of the drop-in facility and pre-empt any problems. None of the culled staff will have any comeback. After all, as a caring employer, didn’t the company provide a mental-health first aider?’
____________________________________________________________________________________
I rest my case.
And yes Sofia, you are, I believe, spot on with your observations. But, in accepting invitations to talk about our mental health problems, courtesy of our caring employers, are us underlings being lulled into a false sense of security?
As for the poem that I was going to write? I have the title, ‘Stigmental‘, and I’m getting onto it!
Mission accomplished.
Copyright owned by Jay Cool, 2019
Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay
The Silly-Savvy Salopian in Suffolk: read, believe and write ... 