google-site-verification: google935433b691795853.html KRISTY BERRIDGE: 2016

Thursday, 29 December 2016

CEO's Receive Massive Bonuses!

These are the headlines that line our newspapers and cover our favourite newsworthy blogsites and forums. It’s amazing how many top executives are receiving a hefty annual income bolstered by exorbitant bonus obligations by company stockholders. It’s almost a daily occurrence that hard working citizens the world over are shocked and outraged by the amount of money these seemingly ‘lucky’ fat-cat executives receive simply for doing their jobs.
I’m not going to lie, there’s a part of my scalp that itches and my left eye twitches when I hear about someone already in a position of power being paid yet another annual bonus of multi-millions because they can.

Over the past four years, twenty of the U. S’s top banks paid out more than two billion dollars in deductible performance bonuses to their top executives. In Australia, pay packets did shrink by an average of three percent, but the annual payout of bonuses increased dramatically leading to investigations by several major authorities.
These annual increases in bonuses and often hefty supplement salaries have also become topics of debate among politicians and used as a platform to coerce votes. It’s safe to say that there’s nothing that pleases the lower income-earner more than knowing the rich will somehow be penalised for their success and the playing field levelled for those not capable of keeping up with the Jones’s.

I have to wonder if these newspaper articles and blog reports regarding company expenditure and bonus payout don’t just irk us simply because we are not the intended recipients? I have no doubt that some major corporations are underhanded in their executive appointment of salaries and bonuses while the worker bees of the company are set to suffer on minimum wage. I also have no doubt that some of these CEO’s have sacrificed time with their loved ones; hours upon hours spent in corporate towers worldwide going over documents and overseeing projects. There is fairness and blatant acts of disregard for employees across any occupation whether entry level or executive.
It’s easy for a lower income-earner like myself to criticise big companies for their gross expenditure on a few, highly prioritised individuals rather than the worker populace as a whole, but that would also be a massive assumption on my part that every profitable company is extorting their workers for the sake of executive income.

For example, LinkedIn’s CEO—Jeff Weiner—boosted employee morale this year by distributing his annual fourteen-million-dollar stock bonus to avoid internal talent from jumping the proverbial ship. Bill Gates—net worth ninety-billion-dollars—consistently gives his money away to various charity groups including giving thirty-billion-dollars to the Melinda Gates Foundation to fight hunger, disease and poverty. Spanx founder—Sara Blakely—has helped many women world-wide finance their college educations and also donated one million to Oprah’s Leadership Academy for girls in South Africa.

As you can see, despite our own personal jealousy and inability to subsidise our own low incomes with multi-million dollar bonuses, there are top company executive out there trying to make a difference in a world so desperately driven by the almighty dollar. Although there are those that abuse a multitude of systems and some that support abolishing poverty too, it’s simply best to focus on what you can control; your own personal contribution to either your wealth or the betterment of those not nearly as financially settled. Every single day someone dies from poverty-stricken conditions. The choice is really up to the individual to make a difference and if that person isn’t you, then how the hell can you ride a high horse about CEO’s that may at least try?


Kristy J

Sunday, 18 December 2016

The Iraq war has been a hot topic of conversation since the early eighties when Dictator Saddam Hussein launched indiscriminate ballistic-missile attacks on Iran and messed with chemical weapons. Since this time, millions of people have lost their lives, Islamic state extremists have emerged and a growing refugee crisis has forced the world to pay attention to the evolution of racism, religious discontent and the middle-eastern upheaval.
But what does the Iraq war or any war on terrorism have to do with us?

It’s an interesting question and one that billions of people informed or uninformed ask themselves regularly. Terrorism in any measure is defined by the unofficial or unauthorised use of violence to intimidate in the pursuit of political gain.

Terrorism has become an accepted term that citizens throughout the world recognise as the leading form of oppression and the greatest driving force between the breakdown of communication between religious sects and countries divided in belief. But again, how does this affect us? How is global terrorism affecting our commercialised consumer-driven lifestyles?

For one, the families of the soldiers on both sides of this equation are suffering with the loss of life and love. Though divided by purpose, these people share commonality and yet, compassion remains absent despite the loss being substantially equal.
Trust has ebbed between foreign leaders, allied armies and even the general populace. We are now so consumed by the fear of the unknown that racism often rears its ugly head. What was once celebrated as our differences is now scorned for its possibility of future wrong-doing.

No longer can we travel freely between countries of interest for fear of political backlash or religious agenda. We are screened at public airports for explosive devices and are regularly updated via social media about what is acceptable behaviour and what is not. Our differences as human beings once set the tone for the uniqueness that inspired the best in all of us, but now we huddle in mass and conform, mostly to maintain personal safety or avoid public scrutiny.

The effects of terrorism, localised discrimination or middle-eastern wars are so wide-spread and accepted as normal in this day and age it’s no wonder our evolutionary process has slowed in its tracks. Our intellect is poisoned by our emotional drive to avoid those people and activities that are different from us. Naturally it’s easy to assume that a change in perception will ultimately inspire correction in our global attitudes, but realism must be adopted.

Good vibes and peace and love sentiments from a small percentage don’t incite change, but in saying that, when the human race decides to stop believing that the individual has the power to make a real difference; to change perceptions and recalibrate government powers for the greater good, we will really see the effects of war and terrorism. Why? Because it means that we no longer care and that is simply unacceptable.

Kristy

Sunday, 11 December 2016

How nice is too nice? 
Is there such a thing?

A lot of people would say that in a world filled with suffering, oppression, arrogance and disregard, being too nice couldn't possibly be something worthy of complaint. Usually I would agree, the world is seriously lacking in the sincerity and general kindness that this post hopes to inspire.

But what if your existence is nothing but a few thousand cubic meters of space and filled with people not generally influenced by the world on mass?

My town, for instance, is tucked away in the northern end of Australia; population approximately 160,000. There's enough people to create eccentricity, variation of cultural and religious belief as well as a government based on the ideals of the country's overall agenda, but still far enough removed to remain independent of major political upheaval. In this tiny town we may know the person living right next door or we may live with the window shades drawn in the hopes to remain anonymous; basic niceties are still expected regardless.

Being nice, to me, is respecting each individual's choices to live, breathe and work within this environment without judgement or expectation of certain behaviours. Being too nice would entail dropping baked goods on doorsteps each day or friends and colleagues calling hourly to check on one's wellbeing.

To be nice (or merely human) is to be considerate of your fellow man; let them merge into your traffic lane during rush hour. Let the neighbour's kids play cricket in your front yard when there's no safe place elsewhere. Let the elderly have your seat on public transport and of course, respect everyone's opinions yet still value your own.

It's all about balance. Being too nice isn't really a first world problem and to be fair, not the worst thing that anyone could encounter. There's no issue with overextending oneself or elaborating kindness; it can be annoying, but still much better than the alternative which is to not care at all. I personally know which one I'd prefer even if I do like to keep the shades drawn most days.

Kristy :)

Sunday, 4 December 2016

Who Asks Who?
Talk of marriage has sprung up more than once in my household this week and to say that I'm both pleased and petrified by the thought would only be an admission of truth.

I suspect it might be the dream of many women globally to have the love of their life proclaim their undying devotion and desires for a future unending and filled with marital bliss. I'm not all that different, I even wonder occasionally how he will do it; billboard proposal, one knee, ring in a wine glass?
The truth is, the thought of our beloved lavishing us with hefty bouts of attention and adorning us with jewellery is a major drawcard to the sacred union, but what if your partner insists the shoe be on the other foot? What if he refuses to propose in the hopes that you do all the hard work for him?

Enter the modern man; expectations of equality have been raised by the modern woman, so why wouldn't he expect the idea of marriage proposals to be a two-way street?
I can't say I disagree, but even the modern woman wishes that romance was a candle not so quickly extinguished by the ideas of the 21st century. We want our cake and to eat it too and perhaps this is grossly unfair in this day and age, but when my boyfriend wishes I'd propose the idea of a life together, pick my own ring and organise everything before, during and after; I almost want to slap modern day feminists for inciting this role reversal!

When did this happen? When did my partner suddenly decide that he too deserved to be lavished with the attention and surprise of pending nuptials?

I have no answer and flatly refuse to give into this bid for equal rights. Perhaps I am selfish and old fashioned, but I'm also more than aware that on the relationship see-saw I don't ask for more than a partner can give and in this instance, I can keep teetering, bouncing up and down with the currents of our relationship until bended knee and extravagant rings appear.


Kristy :)

Sunday, 27 November 2016

A List ...

I recently went out with a long-time friend that I had not seen in quite some time. As life usually goes, time gets away from us all and before you know it, eons have passed and everything you once knew about your friendship has changed.

This isn't always a bad thing. Change is about growth and more often than not it can strengthen the ties that originally bound you as friends or even help you to better understand the differences.

We've known each other since we were knee high to a grasshopper and back then we had grandiose ideas of saving the world, living together in a cubby house and never to be shackled to the ideas of the seemingly expected and ordinary.

Both now fully inducted into the world of adulthood, I took the route of random travel and creative solutions to my career which have never been particularly successful. I have bounced from job to job and ideas of my ultimate form of bliss. I may have seen the world, but I'm perpetually restless and without family. She on the other hand, studied hard in the science and mathematics field, earned herself multiple degrees and met the love of her life and started a beautiful family.

Never have two people been poles apart yet so closely linked by the ideals of our past. This of course was uncovered during our recent discussion about our successes and failures ... the things we still expect and want from a life only part way through.

She spoke to me about a list, nothing unheard of and most commonly known as a bucket list, I was curious. What was the point of writing random lists of the seemingly unachievable during our declining age?

Her answer was poetic; to write it down is to hold oneself accountable for your desires unfulfilled and yet it's completely achievable should you actually believe that your ambitions are worth pursuing.

I was floored and have thus considered that the list was not a flight of fancy anymore, but perhaps a true challenge to be pursued with vigor to not only enrich my life, but to remind me that regret would be ultimately more unfathomable than attempting to continue to invest in dreams unfulfilled.


Kristy :)

Sunday, 20 November 2016

Monogamy becomes Monotonous?

When you become a couple; ergo, your single status is annihilated and you’re suddenly inhaling each other’s poo particles in the bathroom each morning, it’s amazing how quickly the mystery you’d worked so hard at maintaining is tossed aside in lieu of comfortability.

It begins with gas emissions. First these were simply a strange concept neither of you discussed nor indulged, but once in the comfort zone, many partners feel this is the green light to explore warming the bed sheets or easing the burden of a rather large meal by ‘tooting’ their appreciation.

Suddenly everyone’s burping, farting and regularly leaving the toilet bowl desecrated. There’s no more mid-week bonks on the kitchen bench and clipping fingernails becomes an afterthought. Do I even mention the weight gain and decidedly lacklustre attempt to brush one’s hair on the weekend?

I personally HATE this trend towards laziness, because that’s exactly what it is … laziness. When did it become okay not to respect your partner’s vested interest in you? When is it okay for a woman to stop dressing to impress or a man to release all bodily functions? I for one vote to always keep the mystery, attempt to re-claim romance regularly and to maintain a high standard of hygiene, otherwise what’s the point of monogamy if suddenly it becomes monotonous?

Just my view …


Kristy J

Wednesday, 16 November 2016

SO MANY OPTIONS!

I was talking to a friend today about the plethora of opportunities available in regards to career. She’s at the tender age of twenty-one and has the world at her feet. As far as I’m concerned, she’s sitting on the precipice of a multitude of exciting and varied paths that many people take for granted … she’s doing that now.

Take me; I’m an interior designer, practice manager, receptionist and writer. I mean, good God! Clearly I have trouble making decisions and thus I have many regrets about my scattered choices—namely not choosing a career that can make me squillions of dollars.

While my dear friend is unfortunately caught in that same rut of indecision, I could do no more than encourage her to take a step back and consider something grander than our monotonous nine-to-five job. While she shrugged her shoulders and lingered no longer than ten seconds on my advice, I started plotting my life as a travel writer. I figured I could fly to exotic destinations and swing from the trees like a monkey and ride African wildebeest like a jockey. Or can I?

Surely quitting my feasible existence and taking up the whimsy of ‘what if?’ would be preferable to wasting my life on data entry?

It’s a mixed bag, isn’t it? While some were smart in their choice to pursue higher education or due diligence in lucrative careers and apprenticeships, my friend and I—despite our massive age difference—are very much tied to a menial existence based on poor choices, indecision or fear.
It’s so interesting that with so many opportunities out there, we often baulk at a chance to change our life because it either takes us from our comfort zone or we feel inadequate. And so, we tend to complain about our current set of circumstances, knowing that we are the only ones with the power to change our existence, but remain unwilling to be culpable.

Perhaps it’s time to stop make excuses and start moving forward with a solution. I’ll keep you posted.


Kristy J

Friday, 11 November 2016

The Doctor!
Do you ever head to the doctors and exit your appointment even more confused than when you entered?

Well, take The Cockney; he’s middle-aged, in good general health, but like many of us, concerned about our aging issues and how best to maintain a good standard of healthy living. Gone are the days where there’s nothing we can do about our high blood pressure or rising cholesterol; there’s a medicinal or natural solution to most situations and given The Cockney’s obsession with staying fit, active and healthy, he goes regularly to the doctor in search of it.

Last night we were seated at dinner (our weekly romantic date) and discussing his latest visit with his general practitioner. I know, not exactly scintillating stuff, but I have to tell you he made me laugh so hard I almost spat my drink clear across the room.

Picture this; I sat sipping on my lemon, lime and bitters, pretending to be interested in his latest results for his cholesterol and dietary requirements when he tells me the doctor sent him for blood test and sample collection. Naturally I started to listen, as taking blood sounds semi-serious to those of us that generally run right past those clinics in a bid to ignore whatever health concerns can’t be diagnosed without peeing in a cup.

Anyway, next thing I know he explains that the doctor hands him a cup and says, ‘I need a sample’.
My dear, sweet Cockney glanced at the little plastic cup and yellow lid and failed to ask the most paramount question of all: ‘What sort of sample?’ And thus, he headed off to the bathroom, clueless, but determined not to fail in this medical mission.

With baited breath I sat waiting for the punchline. When I asked him exactly what he’d filled the cup with, his response had been, ‘Well, I went with what I needed to do most, so went with that.’
Drink now expelled from my lips and my laughter shaking the very foundations of the restaurant we sat in, I explained that he probably just wanted a urine sample.


‘Oh,’ The Cockney answered. ‘Well I guess that explains the look on his face when I handed back a full jar of my poo.’

Kristy :) 

Sunday, 6 November 2016


T&C OR C&T
Well as you know Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump are one of the hot topics of the NOW for American politics:

The American charge to elect a new president is really heating up and is probably the most talked about election of the century. Never have two candidates been more polarised, globally discussed or in a position to either instigate crucial change or bring the world’s most powerful nation to its knees. America has the unenviable task of deciding the suitability of two essentially inexperienced individuals to run a country with the highest mainstream influence in the areas of: business and finance, international political relations as well as entertainment and media persuasion.

It’s no wonder Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump are turning up the volume on their policies and obvious dislike for one another. With so much at stake, it makes sense to drag your opponent through the verbal mud in the hopes of sullying their good name and disguising any viable policies with a media frenzy. Or does it?
Do voters really want to waste time listening to the theatrics of the ego-driven antics of politicians determined to have their point heard even to the detriment of their political image?
I say no.
Politicians are under the impression that voters are incapable of making decisions without influence and thus spend half of their campaign—as these two have done—slagging each other off in an attempt to vilify their opponent and destroy their credibility. Ironically, if the same amount of time used to insult and insinuate lack of suitability for the slot of president were devoted to genuinely forging stronger policies, I expect the American people would be happier.
And, if you take the time to read the policies that Hilary and Donald stand for, it becomes clear that these two incredibly driven and passionate individuals are fighting for exactly the same cause; a stronger, more well-rounded American economy with better infrastructure, new immigration reforms, education and health care systems. Does it not scream ludicrous to continue to hold these popularity contests when both campaigners appear to be largely in sync?

It’s only now as we globally view this election and the sensationalised candidates do we take a step back and consider the possibility of unity. Yes, it is essential that one person occupies the seat of national leader and yes, of course there is opposing opinions and different goals for each party, but surely more can be accomplished on a global scale if the parties work together for the greater good of the country, not just the betterment of themselves?


Kristy J

Wednesday, 2 November 2016

100 Days of Happiness
The good, the bad and the ugly--phrasing used many times by a variety of people to describe personality, food, travel and situations of happenstance.

100 Days of Happiness encompasses this paraphrasing and although the title suggests 'happiness', what does happiness really mean? Is it a session embodied with hysteria or is it the physical act or smiling?


Happiness--to me--is a multi-faceted act of being, that can include even the darkest of emotions. It's rather simple to find happiness in celebrated moments or circumstances bearing positive results, but what would it mean to find happiness while discovering oneself after family tragedy? What if happiness was unearthed because one overcame the spiralling torment of depression without drugs or the help of bystanders?


Surely happiness can take the form of a lesson learned or an unexpected twist in fate that may lead to a life saved despite the loss of another?


The question of happiness is of course subjective and addressed via many facets within the novel. Sadness does not always equate to misery, but in fact an opportunity to change your circumstances. The truth of anyone's happiness stems from the personal experience and the choice of interpretation.


Where would 100 Days of 'Happiness' take you if you allowed the idea of multiple emotions to collaborate?




Kristy J

Saturday, 29 October 2016

Expectations

We all have certain expectations when it comes to our friends, family and of course, our significant other. My expectations may differ from others as I never expect anything from anyone that I wouldn’t otherwise do myself.

For example: I hate to call anyone. This may mean that I am incredibly lazy, but I do honestly find it tedious to talk to a faceless person about menial topics. Thus, I never expect someone keep in touch via phone when I’m not willing to do so myself.

When it comes to family, my only expectation is to always be there for each other when needed; whether that’s advice, cuddles, a well-timed lecture or to re-stock the refrigerator.

Significant others … hmm.

This is tricky as we tend to place multiple expectations on these poor, helpless creatures without knowledge on how to find the grocery store, where the washer and dryer is located or even when the best time to load and unload the dishwasher may be. And eating? The poor buggers would starve to death if dinner wasn’t in regular, constant supply. I also suspect they have no idea what a hospital corner is because they have never made the bed.

But these are the small things, aren’t they? It’s not the end of the world if your partner isn’t domestically trained or a Michelin star chef. What does tend to make the blood boil is the lack of listening skills. Like the action of high-fiving, I absolutely hate to repeat myself. I figure if I’ve said my peace once, repeating it is simply a good waste of a busy woman’s time.

Enter my significant other … The Cockney. I’m fairly certain he spends his days plotting to drive me wild with his incessant habit of ignoring every word that ever leaves my mouth. My phone is constantly lighting up with missed calls because he’s forgotten I was going out with a friend or that I wouldn’t be home for dinner. Weekends can be filled with dour moods because I’m on a flight across country, he didn’t mark it in his calendar and woken up to an empty house—breakfast now in jeopardy.

I’ve now reached a point in my life where I accept two week old clothes still hanging over the bedroom chair yet to be put away, but absolutely fly off the handle if I’m asked how I have my coffee …. again.

I’m sure the lesson in this is not to ever have expectations of another human being. It would reduce the amount of teeth-clenching adopted and dramatically lower my blood pressure. I guess the real question is: when did we start placing roles and expectations on one another? When did life become divided by gender roles and how can we sit back and relax our ideals a bit more?

I don’t know the answer, but I’ll figure it out … right after I cook dinner, do the washing, vacuum the floors … etc, etc, etc.

Kristy :) 

Wednesday, 19 October 2016

Manufacturer instructions.

You know what I’m talking about, those little balled up pieces of paper outlining the step-by-step instructions on how to assemble whatever godforsaken piece of flat-pack equipment you’ve purchased. This is not limited to wooden shelves with missing screws or Swedish cabinets sent to test your patience; this also includes: clothes, food items and household goods. 

I’ve been thinking about this often lately, given numerous amounts of people killed in fiery crashes believing their ‘Cruise Control’ button would ‘auto-pilot’ their vehicles. Most of us don’t own a Mercedes Benz so this is technology not yet possible for people like me on a minimum wage; plus, we’re definitely not on Star Trek. It does go to show, though, how stupid we can all be even when given these life-saving instructions. Even from birth we’re trying to contradict safety precautions by licking the ends of batteries and shoving knives in the toaster. We still ignore the manufacturer instructions as adults and always seem to finish projects with ‘extra’ pieces or some sort of grievous, bodily wound. 

Now I’m no expert, but it occurred to me that one of two things need to change. One: as adults we need to take the time to read these little seemingly waste-of-time pieces of paper to ensure safety and correct assembly. Two: stop being moronic and realise cars cannot yet fly, electricity will kill you when combined with water and the shower door is dangerous to male erections and nipples on exit.
If we could take five minutes to digest logic and simply apply it to the multiple situations that could presume death or dismemberment, the world would be a much better place filled with a lot less stupid individuals.

Do you not agree?

(During the making of this blog I will neither confirm nor deny that the shower door incident has happened to either The Cockney or myself)


Kristy J

Friday, 14 October 2016

Turkey Slapping.

Yes, this is a topic and one I wouldn’t usually discuss via social media, particularly when in inference to a sexually inappropriate action.

But since I’m all about being inappropriate on most occasions, I figured we’d take a little nose-dive into this topic for a brief moment in time. 

For those of you unaware—and feel free to google it if you want pictorial evidence—turkey slapping is the act of a man literally slapping a woman in the face with his … um … breadstick. 

Most women will admit that this has happened to them on more than one occasion and if it hasn’t, you’re either a nun, lying or living with a eunuch.

In most cases, this generally occurs because your partner thinks he’s a comedian and desires nothing more than slapping you in the face with his mediocre genitalia in the hopes you might open wide and swallow. Other times it’s because you’re shaving your legs in the shower, both of you turn at once and presto! Face full of pink! Other times you’re climbing ladders, surfacing in the swimming pool with your eyes closed, hungry or having a good laugh with your demented other half and compelled to slap him back.

The point is; it happens. 

A few weeks ago my bestie was visiting and was fortunate enough to experience this delightful activity for herself from none other than … The Cockney.
Yes, you heard right. My partner decided to bestow my best friend with this precious gift laden with inappropriate humour. And though I hear women everywhere gasping--to be fair--it was the most ridiculously funny thing I have seen in ages.

Picture this; a day trip on the jet ski takes us to a remote island with crystal clear waters and an abundance of marine life … including sea cucumbers. Do you see it now? The Cockney wrangled one of those bad boys from the ocean floor and proceeded to gently attack my bestie with its slimy skin. She squealed with laughter as he thrust it at her neck, cheek and even attempted to shove it in her mouth. I was beside myself, having no idea whether to laugh, cry or shield watchful children from this sordid act of marine depravity. 

Needless to say we all laughed until we cried. The children watching cried, but they’re someone else’s problem and it was a memory none of us would forget.

Happy Turkey Slapping.


Kristy J

Tuesday, 11 October 2016

To be health conscious these days is to be super trendy and it’s amazing how many people are on the bandwagon and just exactly how many people have an opinion regarding your choices.

Take me for example, I have recently turned Vegan. To those uncertain of this term, it means I no longer eat any animal products; i.e. meat and dairy. It’s simply gobsmacking how many people have enquired into my general well-being and if my funeral will be announced anytime in the near future. I mean really, just because I’m not ingesting a cow or scarfing a pound of butter a day does not mean I will die. Rest assured, I did not become a Vegan to save the animals, make daisy chains and spread messages of peace and love, I turned to this alternate form of eating because I’d become a bloated, gassy mess with bad skin.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m no cover model now, but I’m definitely better off for making the decision to change my lifestyle and eating habits. Interestingly enough, it really does seem to bother some people I encounter. My mother initially worried because my bones would break and my hair would fall out. My dad worried we’d never eat at our favourite steak restaurant again and The Cockney thought the refrigerator would be incessantly stocked with Tofu and black beans. I understand these concerns because these are the people that love me and want to make sure we still dine out regularly, I don’t fall to pieces if I crash-dive down a set of stairs or that Sunday dinners at home still include a dead animal roasted and stuffed with trimmings.

Funnily enough it’s strangers and work colleagues that give me the most unwarranted feedback concerning my personal health journey. It seems that when you open your lunch box and salad looms behind the lid that you must be crash-dieting or if you ask a waiter to make simple amendments to an order, you’re forced to endure the eye rolls of impatience.

Since becoming Vegan I’ve often wondered if this sort of treatment is prevalent to many different minority groups. For instance; do the Jewish cop shit about their curly beards and crazy sideburns? I suspect there is always someone suppressing their desire to high-five someone in the face with a chair for constantly scrutinising their chosen way of life. The lesson to be learned is tolerance. I will learn to be tolerant of overly-opinionated dropkicks because there is no way in hell that said drongos are ever going to stop freedom of speech and vocally distributing their biased thoughts. I guess in some ways you do have respect the confidence supporting these views, even if sometimes you just want to eat your damn lettuce in peace!


Kristy J

Friday, 7 October 2016

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Tuesday, 4 October 2016

Picture this; my wet salty tears streaming in abundance now that my holiday has come to an end. I explored a bit of Europe, enjoyed the chill weather and rather had a breakdown the moment I realised it was all over. Now that I’m back in my day job (since writing doesn’t exactly line the pockets) I’m feeling rather annoyed that reality has snuck in and taken me hostage; I say hostage because I simply cannot eat without a job and I do like my food …
The upside, (because I think it’s important to find a silver lining) is that my best friend came for a week-long stay intersecting with my return. Some would consider it poor timing with the suitcases barely emptied and the house covered in travel paraphernalia to receive a visitor, but The Cockney and I are all about rolling with the moment. So, with a million loads of washing still on the go and the mattresses exploding in plumes of dust when sitting on them, she jumped on board with our jetlag and slotted into our return to life.
While we slaved away at work all day, she chilled on our sofa or visited old friends. She even helped with the cleaning which I certainly didn’t expect, but was super grateful since The Cockney is the ultimate adult child and makes more mess than a Piñata. Seriously, he has more clothes changes in one day than a supermodel and goes through socks because he thinks it’s the solution to cleaning the floors.


One day I will introduce him to the hoover.

Anyway, amongst having to earn a crust and trying to be social, I found her presence amazing therapy after the monotony of having to resume the formalities of everyday life, but like all good things they come to an end. Just like my holiday, she left me in a flurry of tears and I wondered if it was good for my emotional health to keep surrendering to this rollercoaster of highs and lows, but then I realised something. It’s these moments; the holidays and time spent with good friends that make you appreciate how few and far between the dark moments in life really are. In the last two months I have laughed one hundred times more than I have cried, but it’s often forgotten in times of misery.
So, to sum up; enjoy life­­­­. Don't waste tears on anything that isn't permanent and laugh as often as possible; it’s good for you.