I am tempted to make an undignified exit; leave Carrie’s 365 an unfinished project: a cliffhanger in the mundane life of my twenty something self. I hate that Carrie’s real blog is now entirely neglected; I hate that this has become increasingly longer catch up lists of my relentless moaning and negativity. The quitters thing to do was to call a defeat and walk away, the stronger, wiser woman inside of Carrie O decided against it.
So you’re stuck with me…(for 40+ more days at least…)
These will be snapshots rather than word-filled ‘video’ footage (be grateful all you’re missing is my work frustration mounting to fever pitch)
314: A tutoring session that allowed me to rediscover the wisdom of Atticus Finch….
315: A bad night out: realising I’m too old to get ‘Groovy’ at the ‘Train’ and too clumsy too drink vodka and cranberry juice (a friend’s dress and another’s satin shoes will bear stained witness). A conversational highlight will a girl from work I never get to talk to…she is an inspiration.
316: Meeting Georgia and spending time with the exhausted and incredibly happy brand new parents. As twee and cheesy as it sounds: this new little life let me recognise things I seemingly ignored of late: that it is already autumn, that I love to sing in my car when no-one is listening, that Donaghadee harbour is beautiful at night and that I’m blessed by the friends my life has given me.
317: JG and I went to a literary discussion at the Aspects festival: neither of us had read the book but had been interested in the subject (soldiers executed, and recently pardoned during the First World War): it was an informative, thought provoking and strange occasion. I spent the time hoping I didn’t share too much in common with the rest of the overly dignified, incredibly middle class; rather verbose audience ( somewhere inside me is teenage/ high school rebel not yet fully exorcised): I’m an inverted snob: but this is not a new realisation.
But we skipped the wine and cheese to go for conversation; shared red wine and steak at Grace Neils: the perfect end to a social weekend.
318: More school madness: I can’t begin to verbalise my growing fury and frustration. But I’m grateful for remembering Lipstick Jungle (my latest TV fad) and a for that rare thing of sleeping almost as soon as my head hit the pillow and for that lasting until the alarm.
319: Today: the sets for the musical were knocked over and broken; one of my actors for a performance we’ve to do on Thursday has lost her voice; a difficult member of staff became entirely impossible, and today’s rehearsal was far from what it needs to or should be.
My work ‘To Do’ list is out of control: some things are already past being late; and are heading past ‘overdue’ into ‘Will you do the job you are being paid to do!’ terrritory.
One of my best friends, who is having an exploratory medical procedure tomorrow, rang me and I yelled at him about my day (He graciously accepted my apology).
But during the madness of rehearsal I again got reminded that small gestures can make a difference; that giving can be so much better than receiving; and had a great ‘teacher’ moment: the pupil (new to school) who is playing the role of the Butler came to rehearsal today to ‘read in’ for Joseph: he offered his services for any rehearsal, stating: ‘It’s just such a privilege to be involved; let me help Miss. Let me do what I can. I’m loving every second of this.’
… I needed the reminder that beyond the staff egos (myself the biggest Diva of the pack) and lack of support is this group of great kids who deserve a show; or rather a school experience to remember.
