Diary Of A Design Graduates Dreams

"Mothers are amazing!  The father is equally amazing, but in a different way".... as if to prove this point I was presented with a new t-shirt today.  Not good with words, father has a tendency to buy me things to cheer me up.  Before Christmas he brought home Cuddles the teddy bear to help me through my tears.  Today I was given a t-shirt.  I opened it up to see Wonderwoman.  Erm..... thanks?!  "Its you... its wonderwoman"  Aawww, thankyou daddy.  Once again, even though my own self-belief is low at least I know the parents still think I'm the best thing since sliced bread.  And as a big cartoon fan in his youth, still to this day he uses his childhood Batman mug when he goes to the grandparents house, I felt truly honoured to be labelled as Wonderwoman.  And if I'm honest, she looks pretty damn cool.  And it fits just right.

Today was a very sad day in the house.  It was time to say goodbye to Corrie.  She arrived about 2 years ago when one of the uncles flew away to Cyprus, the hairy little girl would never cope with such temperatures so she was adopted in to the house.  But now the uncle's wife is returning to study for a PhD and wants her doggy back.  I knew it was coming, I had been warned months ago that we would be losing her but it had been delayed several times so I had convinced myself she might get to stay.  But today the father came in the room to break the bad news to me.  I had to tell the boyfriend immediately, at times I worried that he loved her more than me, but there was nothing he could do, not even a goodbye.  I said my goodbyes to her, gave her one last breadstick to nibble on, and took the other little man in my arms to wave goodbye to her at the door.  He tried to stop it, he tried to keep hold of her lead but he had to let go.  So we waved to our favourite little westie and came inside for a little cry together.  But hey, at least she has only moved house... although with the brother moving out and the fat step sister meant to have gone weeks ago but still lingering, it did just add to the list of everyone else who is moving on while I feel trapped.  Not to worry though, I phoned the doctors and they can fit me in on the 9th of June... I could be dead by then [if I had some sort of illness, fortunately not] but at least it gives me chance to keep an eye on the moods to make sure it is worth the visit.

"You can never go home again, but the truth is you can never leave home, so it's all right"_ Maya Angelou.  Just the quote I needed from my calendar today.......

Time for a quiet night in with a bit of TV and 1984 to distract myself from the boyfriend's night out with friends.

Jobs Applied For_ 0
Tears_ 2
5-a-day?_ Oops

Upon reflection, I have come to the conclusion that I am better than them.

With the father still not home from his holiday, and in desperate need of company and parental cuddles, I walked up to the mothers house.  After all, mothers are amazing!  The father is equally amazing, but in a different way... and as I said, he still hasn't returned from sunny Spain.  As I arrived mother was already busy searching the job websites for me, determined to give me a boost as quickly as possible, unfortunately the suggestion of 15 hours a week walking children to school didn't really do the trick [it sounded like a slightly overrated lollipop lady job... if I'm going to be doing silly jobs while I wait for my moment to shine then I would at least like it to be full time, and away from noisy groups of children].  I was doing well, the emotions were under control after I had decided on the walk up that I would consider phoning the doctors tomorrow [it wouldn't do me any harm would it] but after about 10 minutes they resurfaced.  I cry a lot, but very rarely in front of people [other than the poor boyfriend who gets them far too often] because I have an outer shell that guards me from public breakdowns.  But today was too much for the shell to take and tears seeped through the cracks.  Luckily mother was on hand with much needed comforting words and cuddles... although the poor brother didn't do too well from it with her saying that he was a lucky one who could fall in crap and still come up smelling of roses with the job he got [I know parents aren't meant to favour their children but everyone knows they do, and generally my brains put me ahead of the brothers in the race for number 1 child in mother's eyes].  So once again she calmed me and set me to work installing Microsoft Word so that she could write a letter to her place of work on my behalf to request feedback [she is still furious and giving dirty looks to my evil interviewer on a daily basis] and then to use her secretarial skills to help me with future cover letters.

But now I am home again, the father still hasn't returned.  But having given it thought, I am now in the angry stage of rejection, I am way better than them.  I would have loved the job, merely to say that I had a job and to feel like I am finally doing something with my life, like it finally got started... but in fairness their idea of good design was a flick in the bottom corner of the front page to make it look like the page was turned, which I personally thought was hideous [perhaps they saw the disgust in my eyes?].  I would have embraced the opportunity to work there and boost my CV but I am better than them.  They would have been lucky to have my creative skills.  Instead another company, with a much better eye for talent and design, shall enjoy my input [someday] and this one shall continue down the outdated cheap looking design road that it currently walks down.  But for now, I shall continue to shop at Spar and launch a boycott amongst my friends against the company [which I shall not name so that I don't get in to trouble].   Now that the anniversary present is complete I shall get back to work with the website, and appeal to EVERY single design company I can find.

But for now I am going to catch up on my soaps and watch my new TV addiction 'The Rachel Zoe Project'.... maybe I should just go in to fashion with all my programme addictions and love of Glamour, they are filling my brain up with more knowledge than I ever thought possible

Jobs Applied For_ 0
Tears_ 3
Note to self_ Stop being a depressive maniac and keep remembering the good things in life like the family and the boyfriend, and the few great friends who are always there

A year ago today I was in a crazy sleep-deprived emotional state.  I was in hysterics telling the head of interior design that I hated my work and thought it was awful.  He disagreed and sent me home to bed.  A year on, although not sleep deprived or stressed by final deadlines, I am in a crazy emotional state.  A year since my final ever university deadline I feel like I havn't moved on with my life at all.  I feel trapped and can see no way out.  But I was coping better with the day than I expected sat in an empty shop reading 1984 to pass the hours between rare customers.  Then I got home.  I never expect to get jobs, EVER.  But for some reason that never makes the rejection any easier to handle.  The optimist that is squashed way deep down inside me always tries to hope that maybe the next one might be the one, but then when it isn't the manic depressive loses all control and sends me in to an emotional frenzy.  I hate my life.  Nothing ever goes right.  I'm NEVER going to get a job.  I can't see any way out of this dark tunnel, if there is a light at the end it must be night because I can't see anything.  Mother turned in to a man... you know the type, offering suggestions opposed to sympathy like a woman is supposed to.  I am an intelligent girl, I know the suggestions.  Its not the suggestions that I want, or need.  I just want love and support, and nice ego-boosting comments [although preferrably not Everything happens for a reason because I am sick of that one, I am sick of this stupid reason that this keeps happening].  In all honesty, the job didn't particularly excite me.  I wasn't inspired by their design or the prospect of their hideous uniform.  But I was excited by the prospect of having a job, of finally feeling like my life was going somewhere and getting a step on the ladder.  In her attempt to calm me mother suggested a trip to the doctors, I can't imagine any mother wants to hear their child saying they hate life, but I'm still not convinced I want to go down the anti-depressants route.  I would rather get through it by myself, as hard as it is I can at least look back and know that I managed it myself... but at times like this I can't help but think that maybe a few happy pills wouldn't hurt.  So much for signs though... and faith?  The Big Man isn't doing a great job of keeping me in his flock, only the fear of not believing is keeping me at the moment.

But I don't like to be seen as the depressive moaning type, even though I know at times I can be, so I'm going to think of something happy to say now.  Father is back from his holiday today, I barely see him about the house but I've been feeling incredibly lonely knowing that he won't be coming home each night.  Bit sad that I won't be able to free the dogs from their prison to sit and watch TV with me anymore though.

New amusing addition to the same anniversary card story... we have the wrong cards.  When I went to read it last night for a reminder of his loving words I was faced with my own red handwriting, the silly boyfriend picked up the one with his own handwriting in to take home.  Silly silly.

Jobs Applied For_ 0
Tears_ 1
5-a-day?_ Success

I'm sat at the boyfriend's computer with my heart pounding faster than I like... especially considering he isn't even here to cause the pounding.  Tomorrow I have an interview, and I think it is fair to say the nerves have just set in.  Well, the nerves have been coming on and off since I found out about the interview last Tuesday, but now they are definitely back.  I hate interviews... does anyone actually like them though?  I am scared of interviews for random jobs that I want just to keep me busy while I look for something better.  I am terrified of design jobs.  I am absolutely petrified of this one.  The interview is for a marketing assistant vacancy in the boyfriend's home time.  The mother had been telling me to see if I could find anything around here if I couldn't find anything at home so one day a couple of weeks ago I decided to just have a quick browse while I did my normal commutable searches.  This one particular job stood out; I've always liked the sound of a marketing career [when I say always, I mean this past year since the design thing hasn't been going so great] so I decided to apply for it.  I probably wouldn't get any further but at least I would feel like I have still been applying.  Last week I was offered an interview...... I keep trying to tell myself that they wouldn't have offered me an interview if they didn't think I'm suitable but I still can't see past the qualification issues.  Although many careers can be started with a degree, irrelevant of the subject studied, as an educationally focussed girl I can't see past my qualifications; regardless of my skills I lack the confidence without the official certificate to prove it.  So much so that I had questioned whether or not to even attend the interview; but who gains anything without trying?  And who can complain about being jobless if they don't at least try when they are offered the opportunity.a

Despite my dependance on qualifications for confidence, I am a big believerin signs.  They help to boost me, even if momentarily, so that I have some self-belief.  I had no reason to believe that I would get an interview for this job; I have never applied for a marketing job before, and I have certainly never searched in the boyfriend's town for jobs through worrying that he might think I'm some sort of insane stalker trying to take his space away from him.  But regardless of these facts I got an interview.  I took this as sign number one.  But I am a worrier so this sign has fallen deep in to the abyss of my worried mind many times through the week.  On the drive here last night came sign number two.  A rainbow.  At first it was a faint incomplete one but as we got closer another one appeared, full and bright.  Crazy or not, as a religious girl I always take a rainbow as some sort of little sign from God, so two of them filled me with a happy sense of optimism.  But once again, with it being the day before the interview the uncontrollable nerves and rock-bottom self-confidence levels have returned.  I feel sick.  I feel shakey.  I occassionally have to resist the urge to cry through fear.  Tomorrow I shall just have to put my faith in fate and put on the cheery happy face that comes to me in interviews and rely on my natural skills opposed to my specific qualifications.

In other news, yesterday I made the landmark 2 years with the boyfriend.  But is it weird to get each other identical cards?  Perhaps not... but is it weird when you got each other identical presents 6 months earlier too?  I like to think it is cute but can't help but wonder if he thinks it is a bit freaky and weird. 

But for now I must get on with my company research to help tame the nerves at least a little bit.

Jobs Applied For_ 0
Tears_ 0 [yet]

"It was a high counsel that I once heard given to a young person, 'Always do what you are afraid to do.'"_ Ralph Waldo Emerson

"You look a bit pale and rough" was the greeting I got when I walked in to the mothers house last night.  What a polite greeting.  The step father isn't one to keep these opinions to himself.  He can spot a make-up free day a mile off.  Usually I'm just lacking in the foundation department... and my cheeks aren't as naturally rosy as I would like without the aid of blusher.  Last night was different though, not only did I look rough, I felt it too.  I don't get ill, my allergies drive me up the wall sometimes but a quick spray and I'm back to normal again.  The second mother realised that I am under the weather she ran to the kitchen cupboards, digging out every possible medicine out.  The motherly instinct kicks in at the slightest sight of a sneeze... although she seems to have lost track of my ageing process, still offers me calpol every time.  And then, with it being the second leg of the play-off dreams she began to drink.  After her first drink I went from having a bit of a cold, potentially mild flu, to being a swine flu risk... if I don't get better soon I need to get on the phone to the NHS.  I know nobody from Mexico, nobody who has been to Mexico, nobody who has been diagnosed with swine flu yet... wouldn't that just be super luck if I somehow caught it from some dirty air.  She will be blaming miasma and worrying that I have the plague next.  It makes a nice change from her standard 'look at the light' meningitis test though.  I blame the dirty step sister personally.  I have little contact with the outside world, the father himself said he thought I had become a bit of a recluse in recent weeks because I have been in my room a lot, so really the only person who could have brought such diseases in to the house is the dirty school child... she is ill herself, I'm not just placing blame on people I dislike.  Makes me glad I'm free from the germ infested classrooms of my youth because I'm not enjoying these few achey, sore days at all.  I fear that I may have caught a serious case of....... MAN FLU!!!  What better cure for illness than scrambled eggs though?  I love eggs... poached, boiled, occassionally fried, but I never have scrambled eggs.  Only when I'm ill do such cravings come to mind... perhaps it was mother brainwashing me as a child, or perhaps the easy protein is good for the fighting anti-bodies, either way I am fighting my way through this with scrambled eggs and Lemsip, I'll let you know if it works soon.

Having lost my appetite through illness I decided to weigh myself today.  I weigh myself most days but I'm trying to cut back after the boyfriend said I have a disorder at weekend and my issues with the scales are a bit excessive in all honesty.  Today I weighed in at 11stone 13pounds!!!  Having been 9stone 7pounds on Monday this figure was slightly alarming... so I weighed myself again.  Fortunately I havn't been gaining weight at the rate of a stone a day, I'm not on my way to morbid obesity within the month, I am my normal weight... don't particularly trust the scales as much anymore though.

I heard back from the Pension Centre last Thursday.  Surprise Surprise, I wasn't successful.  I kept this to myself though, hoping that maybe I would have more luck with the other position I went for... but I didn't hear back from that one.  It was an emotional day, there were lots of tears... but I didn't want  I broke the news to the boyfriend in an emotional state on Friday night.  I had no idea how to tell the mother the news.  Apparently she spoke to me over MSN to tell me to phone them and find out what is going on... I didn't see this because the kind, thoughtful boyfriend hid it from me.  Had to face her sometime.  She asked again on Saturday, but knowing I would burst in to tears at the mention of it I cleverly armed myself with the letter for her to read.  It would be fair to say that she was furious.  I was terrified to tell her after them joking that any idiot can do that job... well not this idiot was my thinking... well only idiots was her thinking.  It was nice that mother and the step father jumped to my defence and were furious but still doesn't help my confidence levels.  Must keep telling myself.... everything happens for a reason.  What the hell is the reason for all this?!?!! It's starting to get on my nerves now!  Possible interview next week so maybe thats the reason?  Who knows?

Jobs Applied For_ 0
Tears_ Several
5-a-day?_ Food in general is on the low at the moment
Chocolate_ 1 little bar to boost my mood

Ok, I admit it... I read the back of the shampoo bottle when I'm in the shower.  It passes the time while you wait to rinse, and they wouldn't put it there if it wasn't meant to be read would they?!

However, I am now quite disturbed by Herbal Essences.  It wasn't enough that their ads involved a woman reaching the height of pleasure while she massages the shampoo in.  Although who can blame her, I come close to the occassional lesbian moment in the hairdressers when I get my hair washed, my head just loves to be touched... I do manage to control myself, I'm just saying its understandable.  But now even their bottles are turning in to sex frenzied marketing tools.  After the standard blurb about how good it is for your hair comes a little question... "What do women like light and frequent while men like it more strenuous?"  Want to know the answer, you have to buy the conditioner too... fortunately I wasn't left wondering what would be in store for me next time I visit Boots to find the answer.  The answer on the back of the conditioner bottle..."A kiss".  But then comes more filth, the conditioner bottle has it's own little question..."What occurs more in December than any other month?" with the answer back on the shampoo bottle.  The answer..."Conception"

I don't know if I'm just being a prude but I just do not see the relevance of these questions to shampoo?  I want to wash my hair, not start imitating the commercial.  Is it suggesting that people with unclean hair aren't worthy of child-bearing?  Most of all though, I just didn't like the way it was rubbing in the fact that I have no boyfriend here to kiss.  I'm going back to my Dove shampoo!!!

I spent most of the day at the mothers house today.  The boyfriend is having a reunion with his university chums so his communication with me is rather limited.  I would never stop him spending time with friends, I refuse to be one of those psycho controlling girlfriends, but it doesn't mean I have to like my lonely time.  So I spend as much time up at the mothers house as possible.  This house may have its advantages being a mini-mansion with my bedroom hidden away at the top of the tower away from the scummy step family, but it is a lonely place, so when I am feeling down or alone I much prefer the little house up the road.   Before I even got through the door mother told me to say hello to our guest, I was so confused... although a little hope was burning within me that we were babysitting a dog for someone.  So, it would be fair to say that I was disappointed when I wasn't greeted by a friendly barking face.  I wasn't greeted by anyone, or anything.  Is mother losing her marbles?  She was drunkenly telling me that she saw my great grandma the other night, the alcohol infused state made me doubtful of her ramblings, so I wondered if maybe she was referring to her ghostly visit.  I wish she was.  Instead, I was greeted by a box.  The only other box that has greeted me was a few years ago.  My beautiful dalmatian as nothing more than ashes, there was some pink in the mix too, do they add confetti to cheer it up a bit?  So when I realised just who the visitor was I shut down.  I shuddered at the thought of the realisation of my great grandma being nothing more than ashes [and confetti?] and refused to acknowledge it as anything more than just a random box in the corner.  I'm still not sure if I have to come terms with the fact that she is gone,  but regardless, I could not let myself accept the box as anything more than a box, I just can't go through it again.

"But I can say with all my ups and downs, I have been blest and I do think if we only look back the way we have been led, there is much to be thankful for, and so many things have happened in my life that are really worth taking note of, and do hope they will encourage all who may read them, and bear in mind that in the darkest hour there is a silver lining, and always something to be thankful for"_ Mrs Crowther.  Lots of historic gems have come from cleaning out my great grandma's house.  The history fanatic within me has been loving it.  From my great grandad's wartime recipe book to my great great grandads school certificate, I have been in history heaven.  But today has given me my favourite gem so far.  Who needs quotations from famous people when you have such special ones from your ancestors.  It was only four pages long but I could hardly sit still as I read through my great great great grandma's [is that right? my great grandma's grandma...] autobiographical account of her life.  I moan and I whinge that I can't find a job a year after I have graduated, while this lady lost her eye in a shuttle accident in a mill when she was only 25 [a week before she was supposed to get married I might add!] but still didn't seem to complain. Instead she appeared grateful that she at least managed to keep the sight in her other eye and got married 3 months later.  I do wonder to myself a lot why people today are so selfish and very rarely grateful for the good things in their lives.  I hate that I am one of those people, the fact that even though I recognise that there is always something to be thankful for I still can't help but whinge about what I don't have instead of just being happy for everything I do have.  I've written down that quote from the super great grandma as a reminder to myself to be more grateful and patient with life... everything happens in time.

That's enough of the deep and meaningfuls, I had an appointment with the nurse on Thursday.  I already got my repeat prescription but I made my appointment 3 weeks ago and I didn't want to become just another 'missed appointment' statistic, a number in the waiting room to shame those people who have wasted precious time that could have been used on another patient.  Yes, I am a goody two shoes!  I had already become quite obsessive with my food and exercise since a bit of water retention the other week fooled me in to believing I had become a big bloated bear who was eating far too much.  But I was still my normal 9 and a half stone so nothing too serious to worry about, I was even happy to tell the nurse when she asked me... that was until she told me that my last weigh-in in October I had been 57kgs.  I took a note of this number to convert it the second I left because apparently now I am 60kgs, which normally I would have been amazed by... until I discovered that before father bought the bathroom scales, I was under 9 stone!!!  I thought I was 10 stone, I thought I had lost half a stone, not gained it.  I didn't think my body had even been under 9 stone since I was a schoolgirl.  The anorexic within me was ANGRY.  And so the food obsession is on, hopefully it will only last a week or two and then I will return to my happy 60kg state.

And now back to work on the boyfriend's 2 year anniversary present, I have been working on it for a week and still I am only half way in to it.  He had better like it!  On the bright side of not getting to see him this weekend, I get him for 3 weekends in a row in May, I feel like the luckiest girl on the planet!!!

Jobs Applied For_ 4
Tears_3
5-a-day?_ Slacking a bit
Chocolate_ Who knew how much fat was in Chocolate Buttons... shocking!!!

ps - I know it is spelt 'blessed' - I despise wrong spelling and don't want to be accused of it but mother says it is Victorian spelling so who am I to argue?