Tired and in reflective mood

A while since I wrote; life has been busy and work has been hectic. 

I'm pretty tired today.  I went down to Dorchester and back yesterday, to go to the wedding of two very dear friends in Tolpuddle. 

It was a lovely wedding, and because I was booked on a train home fairly early in the evening I was able to leave before the drinking got too serious or the crowd got too overwhelming.  I even got to have proper conversations with two interesting people (as well as the bride and groom, obviously!), which is quite satisfying for someone who looks at a mass of strangers at a social event and wants to run away. 

It seems that my long-term policy is paying off gradually, over the years; accepting that I am shy and that's my nature, and then finding things I can do, like have a chat to one person instead of trying to socialise with everyone.  I envy the sociable; all sorts of things in life must be easier for them.  But I am what I am and I too have my strengths. 

I remember the glory days of Playcraft and how much I enjoyed get-ins and get-outs, and after-production parties; I had no problem with those crowds, but that was working with people I knew, doing something we all loved, and making whoopie afterwards.  A party with a crowd of people almost none of whom I had ever met before was a different matter entirely.

There was a time I would have ended up backing out of going to my friends' wedding altogether, because of that.  But as I say, I have been working on this for a long time, this business of finding coping strategies for being an introvert.  And it is working; because instead of hating it, I'm genuinely glad I went. 

It was a lovely wedding.  The bride and groom were radiant, and very elegant.  The weather held fine, dry and warm and mostly sunny, the church and the reception venue were both lovely, and the wedding ceremony itself was touching, a nice blend of very traditional and some individual notes.  The flowers and other styled things all looked great.  There was a lot of very pleasant bubbly to drink, and plenty of olives, cherry toms and cheese straws to eat with the drinks.  I had to leave before the sit-down meal started, but I got a Cornish pastie for the train back, so I was okay.  It was nice.

My other big bit of news is that I have an interview on Tuesday for the new role that my current one is metamorphosing into.  The job is actually changing in exactly the way I would have liked it to, if I'd been able to cherry-pick the things I'd like to do more of.  So I do hope that interview goes well!  The restructure at work is slowly beginning to get sorted out, at least in our section.  It's a protracted business, though.  Some departments have only just begun on the consultation stage.  But, as I was trying to explain to another friend a few days ago, it's surely better in the long term for this to get a bit dragged-out, but be done properly, or at least as well as it can be, than for it to be rushed, and possibly bodged, because the people at the top making the decisions are scared of missing deadlines they themselves set.  Whatever happens, in a situation like this, junior people like me are going to feel scared and uncertain.  At least this way we can have some hope that the final result will achieve some useful goals.

In the meantime life and work go on, steadily, and it's good to have plenty to keep busy with.  I've just acquired a nice task, drafting text for a new leaflet and searching out a range of possible illustrations.  Just the kind of thing I love doing.

There's been one piece of really awful news, though.  A colleague from the Jodrell lab, a gifted scientist who was highly respected in his field and much-liked at work, has died very suddenly.  Nigel was a lovely bloke, and I'm so grieved for his poor family.  He used to run our Christmas choir.  It just won't be the same without his enthusiasm at rehearsals, and his very beautiful voice in the final carol service. 

I've seldom met anyone who had such a talent for helping people find the music in themselves and bring it out.  A lot of very musical people are downright snotty about the well-meaning amateur singer with the strong but not-very-good singing voice (i.e. the likes of me).  Nigel was tirelessly encouraging, and never, ever, sniffy; he always found something good to say, even if it was only "You've got all the words right!"
     
I wish I'd told him how much he helped me feel better about my rather odd voice, simply by helping me try, and not blenching at the initial sound as others have done.  Now I'll never be able to do that.   I'm sad to remember the inner prompting in me that told me not to talk to him because he couldn't possibly be interested in anything I had to say.  What a shitty little inner prompting that was.  Doesn't everyone like to be thanked for their help? 

It's really very stupid, and in a strange way almost selfish, to refuse to thank someone for their kindness or their support, on the grounds that they wouldn't demean themself to pay attention.  It's hiding one's own sense of inadequacy behind an assumption of arrogance on the other person's part; and I don't believe Nigel was ever arrogant, so how stupid and how mean to have behaved as if he was, merely out of cowardice.

I say to myself, wake up, woman!  Life is ephemeral!  It is fragile and very short, and can be cut-off still shorter without any warning.  So befriend those you want to know better, love those that you love, and don't be ashamed.  Be good to yourself and to others, and be kind, in memory of the kindness of those now gone.  Live well and embrace life; embrace all things.  If an inner prompting tells you "Don't!  You mustn't!" about doing anything that is in essence good, then question that inner prompting closely, and be prepared to ignore it, no matter how scary that feels.  Don't shut yourself away inside with your private fear and pain and let them grow until they use up all the oxygen.  Seek happiness; and open the doors, and live in the world. 

I think of the chap I like; of the crush that has now settled to manageable proportions again.  I think of how interesting he is, and how ridiculous it is that having a crush has led me to hide from him and not to seek his friendship, although he's someone well worth knowing.  I want to go to him and say "I'm so sorry if this is embarrassing.  But I wish I could get to know you better.  You're interesting and I like the way your mind works; I appreciate knowing you so much.  I'd like very much to be friends."

But I'm not going to be able to do any such thing!  That's going way beyond thanking someone for their help.  It's just not done to say something that could be so embarrassing to the other party.

So much for that challenge of working on my shyness.  So much for opening the doors and living in the world.  I want to reach out; but I just haven't got the guts.

I'm tired.  Maybe it will seem better in the morning. 

Letter to Boots; latest developments (plus a sad goodbye)

I had an email reply from Boots The Chemists' customer service team. It came quickly, it was courteous, and it didn't contain any spelling errors or dodgy grammar.  So far, so good.  I was told that they were sorry I'd been having trouble finding the product I wanted, but not to worry, because it hasn't been discontinued.  Again, so far so good. 

Instead, they've been making some "changes and improvments" to it.

Ah.  Now that could be a good thing or a disaster, depending on what the changes are, and whether they really are improvements or not.

They gave me the correct product code, which should help, and said any Boots staff member should be able to assist me when I next want to find it.

Well, at the moment I still have a supply, thanks to my display of embarrassing hoarding-for-the-rainy-season behaviour in Hammersmith.  When that runs low, I will take this product code and go to look for these "changed and improved" sage capsules.  And I hope I find them.  And - since apparently "It's a good product, let's not mess around with it" is seemingly not the way business works - I hope I will find that they are improved. 

Good customer service, though, Boots. Fast and efficient.  10 out of 10 for that. 

Otherwise, it's been quite a busy week at work, and I've been doing some sewing in my lunch breaks and some writing in the evenings.  Then yesterday evening was Farewell Cake, followed by leaving drinks at a local pub, for the Redhead, one of my favourite colleagues.  She's going on to what is, for her, a dream job, so I can't begrudge her departure.  But I'm going to miss her; she's been a delight to work with.

It was a good evening in the pub, anyway.  Sometimes I sit at these things silently nursing a half of cider and feeling as superfluous as a spider's ninth limb.  This time there was a lively group and lots of people I get along with were there.  I ended up having a long intense talk about the theatre and what a great thing it is, with two people I like very much, my boss Daryl and the lovely Mr Dapper, the Man With The Answers.  It was good to get Mr Dapper, who is normally quite a quiet chap, into a proper conversation; and a couple of gin-&-tonics helped me to feel less crucifyingly shy talking to him.  He may be quiet but he's a very interesting man.  All silly crushes aside, I do enjoy his company and conversation; that kind of quiet, measured intelligence is worth its weight in gold. 

Then I had a catch-up with my previous boss, dear Paul, who seems to be busy as very 'eck but thriving on it.  Then some more frivolous conversations about random things, ending up with us going back to theatrical subjects and comparing notes on "my strange roles in school plays" - a tree, a hamster, a rock, a rose-seller, one of Emperor Ming's harem...  Sadly by this time Mr Dapper had left; I suspect he may have played the odd tree or hamster in his time.  The Redhead had got rather squiffy by the time I left, and I gathered this morning that she'd not got home till pretty late.  But she still came in to work today and spent all day writing up handover notes and training people on covering her role.  Good woman.  She leaves a gap.

Bank Holiday weekend now, anyway.  Have a good one, everyone!

Shyness

(I had a very nice Posh Afternoon Tea on Friday with some colleagues.  Good tea; I had an excellent Darjeeling, a lovely clean clear taste, and no-one bugged me about my not having milk with it, hurrah! (why spoil decent tea with milk?).  Also good sandwiches - especially the smoked salmon and the cucumber with capers - good scones, some very good cakes, even a glass of Prosecco to finish off with.  Lovely.  But oh, my heart; the chap I have a wee crush on was there.  I know I'm being silly; it's always good to see him, even now when I know he's not free.  He's an intelligent, articulate, interesting man with an immensely likeable sense of humour.  I enjoyed having the chance to chat a little and to get to know him just a scrap more outside of work-based conversations.  But because I'm not yet over the crush, I find I'm still painfully shy around him.  I wrote this afterwards.)

Shyness

Let no-one say

That shyness is a blessing

Or an attractive thing.

Shyness is a cord around my throat

A tremor in a healthy hand

A blind spot in the vision

An earthquake in the stomach.

Let no-one say it's charming

Who has not felt

That nausea of dread

At being among

Strangers, or friends.

Or seeing that chap you like

Pass by, when you've not

Had a chance to prepare

Anything at all to say.

Shyness is a fever

With no external symptoms,

Shyness is a wound

With no external scars.

The shaking hands,

The quaking heart;

Shyness is me psyching myself up

To go into that room

Full of my friends;

Losing a little more hope, each time

I see you pass by;

And never having

Anything at all to say.