So, it’s August. Don’t ask me where the year went, because really I just don’t know. I keep thinking, ‘what have I done this year that’s of any significance?’ – well, for a start, this year isn’t over yet, so hold your bastard horses. Secondly, I’ve gone from Employment, to Unemployment to (now) Self-Employment. My Mentors tell me this is the best of these three states, and so far I’m inclined to agree. During my Unemployment I did employ myself at feeling the full range of self-pitying emotions, my favourite of which was blaming it on other stuff (that pesky recession etc).
Anyway enough of that, you’ve heard it all already.
What you really want to know, is what I’m doing now, because even though my life isn’t exciting, it’s still more exciting than yours. OK well:
Remember that whole thing I had about not working for/with my dad? It was based on genuinely good reasons. For a start, my dad’s a big deal -people know him. I didn’t want to be ‘Pete Watson’s Daughter (own name not important)’, or for anyone to think I only got work/access to opportunities because I am his daughter (pride). I was also afraid that people wouldn’t be able to be themselves around me like I was dad’s secret snoop (whether or not I was). There’s an element of being self-made about shirking nepotism. Pride again, I guess. Also – and not least, my dad is a terribly demanding boss. Truth be told I’ve been doing work for him in one sense or another for longer than I care to remember. And I know that people automatically think that you never get in the shit if your dad is your boss, you know, you get some kind of familial leniency – I can tell you right now, it’s not like that, certainly not with my dad. I’d go as far to say that I’d actually get in more shit than a ‘regular’ employee because he expects more from me, and would be more likely to release the full force of his disappointment in me if I fucked up too.
I’ve come full circle on this though now. Pride doesn’t get you new shoes. And you’d have to be retarded to turn down an opportunity like the one I’m pursuing now because of what other people might think. The way I see it, other people get opportunities through being lucky, in the right place at the right time, or knowing the right person, or even shagging the right person – and what? If you make a success of something through genuine hard work, then that’s what really matters, ain’t it?
Also – my father isn’t the tyrant I might have made him out to be above, and I’ve plagued him since the day I was born for information and guidance – why be an ungrateful bitch and stop now? What’s best is, I don’t work for him anyway. Well technically I work for myself (teehee), but I’m answerable to the Top Boss, the guy who actually runs the company, his right hand man from BL, Neil.
So I’ve only been there a few months, and I’ve learnt so much already, it’s incredible really.
It’s a bit like when dad used to say to me ‘you don’t understand it now, but one day you will’, it’s like that day has come, now I’m getting some answers, and the best is, I’m getting all this information and I’m getting exposed to all these situations without anyone holding back. These guys know how to run businesses and they’re quite happy to let me see, explain things to me, get me involved.
And yeah it’s probably because of who I am in part, but also I don’t give a shit if people think that. I have a hard enough time getting people to take me seriously in a business environment anyway (shut up, I know I always whinge about it) but it’s bloody true though. What I’ve learnt is – if your bullshit seems credible enough, people will believe it. And there’s a lot of it about. So I’m less…. gullible. And also – you might be dead powerful or rich or successful or whatever, but you can still be a dick ( & there are women dicks too, Julian.) Business seems to be about people, and perceptions.
We’ll see how it goes, I’m loving it at the moment.
In other news, (I may have already mentioned this), I’m running a marathon. God – it sounds so impressive, even I’m impressed. OK so I’ll confess.
So far I’ve been to the gym 3 times and ran through the park once.
Mostly this is due to not getting home from work til late and having a social life at the weekends, and to be fair to me, I’ve only been at it 3 weeks. Ryan is training me – he’s such a good lad. I’ve been going to Oxygym which is a total muscle dummy gym, and I’ve only seen 1 fatty in there so far and one other female.
To put the following into context: I am unfit. Like, really. If a fiddle is fit, I’m a fucking double bass. You know? I’m the type of girl who’d rather wait 20 mins for the next bus than run for the one coming down the street.
I’m basically allergic to exercise.
However, I’ve decided to run a marathon, so I’m going to fucking do it. It’s not til April next year, so I’ve got a bit of time, and it’s looking like I’ll need it.
To begin with, to see where I’m at, Ryan had me run 1.5 miles on the treadmill, as this is apparently a good indicator of… stuff. Unfortunately, it seems I can’t run in a straight line (I’m working on it). I did it in 15 minutes and 45 seconds, which included a lot of slowing down, whingeing, and stitches which turned into what felt like my insides on fire, coupled with an intense desire to stop and lay on the floor. And honestly, I was trying pretty hard.
We also went on the crosstrainer (my favourite), the sitty down bikes (ouchy knee) and all the ‘girly’ weights (felt like a twat).
We then did a run in the park (Stanley Park), which was WAY harder. The air seemed thicker… like, harder to run through. I got a stitch in the same place which turned into insides on fire again and the same intense desire to stop. I tried less hard, and did it in 17 mins (some of this was walking). What a load of shit.
I am basically rubbish.
If that is 1.5 miles, how the FUCK am I going to run 26.2? How does anybody else?! I think I have genuinely underestimated the gravity of the task ahead. Ain’t giving up though, it’ll make doing it all the better.
However – it really, really isn’t going to come easy. Like, at all. Last week I did the 1.5 miles again in the gym, and did it in 15 mins and 25 seconds (an improvement!) I still had to slow down though, and I think I was affected too much by my immediate environment, that is, OTHER PEOPLE. Knowing that they could see the ripple of each strike on the floor go through my thighs and bum was almost more than I could handle, similarly I felt I couldn’t stop because they were watching me and they’d know I’d stopped… the pressure. I bloody hate the gym.
People go on about feeling amazing after doing loads of exercise, feeling energised. You can get out of bed easier in a morning, they tell me (pah!). I DON’T feel better after doing exercise. I DON’T feel energised. I feel fucking knackered and a bit pissed off. You know you see in films and stuff, glamorous women in lovely running outfits, bouncing along, barely out of breath. Well, that ain’t me.
Pops tells me it’ll get easier. He says I’ll become addicted to running. He says I’ll definitely get better. Ryan says so too.
I really, really, really hope so.
