Tummy issues

Dear Reader,

I've got some kind of tummy issue which means I've been unable to eat properly yesterday and today. I did try eating some soup last night but it brought on a bit more pain when I ate the one that the Cowboy made because it actually had vegetables in it, whereas the 'cuppa soup' one was fairly harmless. And this morning I tried eating some porridge but then had a sharp pain in my tummy while sitting on the metro, which I had to disguise all the way to I.P.Pavlova. Thankfully, Paul's bakery do do peppermint tea so I was able to start sipping that before I started my meeting.

The Cowboy got angry with me last night that this kind of tummy ache isn't normal and I should do something about it. But sadly, I think he's wrong. This is what happens from time to time when you've got IBS. It's irritating for sure, but there's not a lot you can do about it except go on a fast and drink peppermint tea. And have naps with a hot water bottle and a good book. Maybe this is my body's way of giving me an excuse to stop pushing myself so hard. Maybe it just wants some cuddly time of watching House episodes and reading in bed, as I'd've loved to have had all on my own over Christmas and New Year, but couldn't because I was in a studio flat with nowhere to go while the Cowboy watched TV. I suppose the up side is I'll finally lose some weight after the gluttonous festive period... 

Maybe I'll even look more ballerina-like for the ballet photoshoot that a Mexican photographer wants me to do this weekend. (She cancelled last weekend due to having lost or had stolen her wallet.) I only have to sit in pointe shoes wearing a tight-fitting dress, so it's not like I have to be able to hold a difficult pose, which would certainly be impossible in my current state. It's funny how you've no idea how much you use your tummy muscles until you can't. Then you realise that even standing on the tube carrying a heavy bag requires tummy strength. Damn.

Still, at least I can take it easy a bit. Not too many meet-ees today and none yesterday in the end, so apart from a whole pile of admin to do, I can feasibly take it a bit easier today than I otherwise would. I had an article to write yesterday and a client survey response to draw up (which took hours) so I did have to get that done, but I can have a break today until the afternoon when I have to go back to Pankrác again. And tomorrow is a bit full-on really, unfortunately, so I'd better clear out my system today and stick to just peppermint tea again and hope that by tomorrow I might be back to normal. (Tummy-wise.)

I'm feeling quite tired now actually, so maybe I should call it a day now. I hope, dear reader, that your start to the new year has been pain-free and that the glooms of January haven't descended on you too heavily.

Love,

Your friend from the Edge of the Platform.X

Starbucks, being a loser and a 'how to'...

I have decided on a theme for blogposts this week, in a sort of attempt at trying to spice things up a bit, as a cunning distraction from the current turmoil in my life. (More on that topic later...) 

As if to make matters worse in my desperate grief over having to leave my lovely flat, I discovered today that a Starbucks cafe has just opened up almost directly opposite Paul's bakery around the corner.  It's as though it wanted to point out to me how much this area is gentrifying and I am now too much of a loser to live here.  

I have resolved that if no new meet-ees respond to the many adverts I've put up over the last couple of months in the next week then I will have to accept that I do not have enough money to afford to move into another flat on my own and I'll have to move in with the cowboy.  Which fills me with dread because I need lots of support when I'm losing something as significant as my privacy and work and living space all at once.  I need extra support if I'm forced to move to a more suburban area too, which his flat is in, and all this means that I will have to run away for coffees rather a lot because the cowboy is not at his best when he has to be the kind, understanding, patient and supportive person in the relationship.

Enough.  I shall get to the point.  This week's blog post theme shall be...(drumroll) a series of 'how to' articles.  Starting with today's mini-'how to' with a stupidly long title:

'How to survive going to your boyfriend's friend's birthday party in a foreign country where you still don't speak the language very well and everyone is the same age as you but they act 10 years older and all have kids:'

1) Play up your posh British accent by exclaiming, "oh gosh, wow!" when tasting and almost choking on the 'vodka melon' pieces that were passed to you that you didn't really want.  This provides great amusement for everyone else, which means they won't hate you (yet)

2) Speak the foreign language in question so slowly that anyone who sits next to you and starts a conversation regrets it within minutes and uses their child as an excuse to have to abruptly get up and go somewhere else

3) Pretend you like cooking your own food while out at a party and grill some big fat sausages over a fire on a stick just to 'join in'

4) Keep your mouth shut and fake not having understood when an ill-informed guest asks your boyfriend how he met his wife (meaning you) and the thought makes you want to exclaim very loudly, "I'M NOT HIS WIFE!!"

5) Be enormously grateful when you get home that you don't have a bunch of screaming kids who'll wake you up in the morning and take advantage of this by having a 'recovery lie-in' till 10am the next day

Uh, that's it. 

Reisefieber

I have forced myself to take a "time-out" (oh yes, a 'PB' trip again!) because I've been quietly worrying for some time now and I can't seem to shake the underlying anxiety off.  I'm making lists, ticking off what I can as soon as I can, but some things are simply out of my hands.  And I can't quite discern where all this worry is coming from but I sense it's probably just ,,Reisefieber" - that pre-travel anxiety you get when you realise you've got to get a tonne of things done before you leave for a long journey.  (Or it could just be my Mum's genes and her terrible propensity for worry gone into overdrive due to my coming off the pill for the seven days off, which causes hormonal free-fall.)

I'm pretty sure the journey itself is going to leave me feeling almost dead and I'm only talking about getting from here to Chicago.  The horrendous 4am wake-up call and 5am check-in added to the four-hour wait in Amsterdam before actually getting on a plane bound for Chicago is what might be the end of me.  That coupled with general, 'did I meet all the necessary international flight requirements this time?' stress, is bound to send my cortisol levels through the roof. 

The thing about travelling from Europe to the States is that the jet-lag isn't too bad to get over on the way there, because the time change takes you back, so when you arrive, you can just try to kid yourself that it was a shorter journey than you thought, make it through till evening and then crash and wake up the next day on US time.  Except, on this occasion, we won't be arriving anywhere near evening and will have to survive a whole afternoon without collapsing to make it through to the evening before we can go to bed.  So it'll be a bit of a challenge.

But that's just the beginning of the trip.  The rest could involve similar challenges in staying awake / dealing with anxiety, being that we're driving across to California, aiming to end up in San Francisco for the final 5-6 days of our trip.  Ironically enough, as I sat down to have my coffee and pain au chocolat in P's bakery again, the first song that came on was the one with the line, "if you're going to San Francisco..." to which I smiled to myself and thought, "yes I am!'  

I have since checked this song on You Tube and found that it's a really hippy 'Mamas and the Papas' song all about flowers and love-ins and I feel a bit nauseous now.  I have a sneaking suspicion, that despite my excitement, there'll be a little part of me that will miss Prague while I'm away and I could find myself longing for a bit of European dress sense, or culture, or even a bit of the resigned pessimism and expert moaning that you just can't get in the US without being a hardened New Yorker.

There's a line in the film "Truly, Madly, Deeply" (which happens to be one of my favourite films) where the Polish guy Titus, says, "A man should never drink, he remembers only his country, his mother, his lovers".  In my state today, I think I need to re-phrase that to, "A woman should never come off the pill, she remembers only her worries, her insecurities and while watching 'Outnumbered' later, her daytrips to 'Rabbit World' with her ex-partner..."  It's tragic what a loss of progesterone and estrogen or whatever the damned contraceptive pill consists of, does to you.  I am most definitely calling it a day now and packing myself off to an early bed with girlie videos and cups of tea, and a small ration of chocolate, because I need to lose weight before I go to America so that its sweetened food doesn't entirely annihilate my body with unavoidable fat and carbohydrates.  Hmm.  Chocolate rationing at a time like this.  Tough-going...

Reflection and brunch at Paul's Bakery

"I believe sometimes we aren't always in charge of everything that we do creatively.  We submit to things as we're going on our own journey."  Madonna

I have continued to have a somewhat 'up, down, up, down' existence lately, trying to change my attitudes to things, trying to alter my perspective and, above all, stay in the present.  But there's something about the human brain and the way it perceives time that can mean you can't out-run your personal history.  You can try to focus on the present, but what do you do when an old song comes on on the radio in a cafe or shop?  Music is that powerful that the things you associated with a song from the past can come flooding back at you.  

If music is the industry you're involved in, your work is continually informed by the past.  Songs that refused to let themselves be finished sometimes come back and ask to be looked at again.  Ideas started with no funding to finish get overlooked for other things you can afford to complete and the result is thread after thread of notes and pictures, vocal melody lines and chord sequences pulling you back, just when you hoped you were finally moving forwards.

Thankfully, by escaping to Paul's bakery for brunch this morning, I'm only being reminded of quirky French singers and they haven't started playing Maxime le Forestier yet, so I'm safe.  I needed to get out of the house.  As a writer/self-employed person working from home, you soon realise that getting out of the house from time to time is an absolute necessity and one that cannot be avoided purely on a "but I need to save money!" basis.  It doesn't work.  The extra productivity that comes from getting out and eating elsewhere so you don't have to deal with the washing up afterwards saves untold time and energy.

   

They've spruced up the place too, which is lovely (though my photo came out blurred) and they've now got nice chairs that remind me of the antique ones my ex-Swedish teacher has in her converted barn in the middle of nowhere in northern France. So I feel more at home now.

And what's really ridiculous is, the architect has had some good news on the job front, so I really am going to be going on a US road trip and I really will get to stay in San Francisco and see the Golden Gate bridge and see the sea and be free of Europe for almost a month, starting in Chicago in a month's time!  It is really happening.  And it really is my life in which this miraculous stuff will be taking place....I need to pinch myself!

Maybe the songs will come back, unhampered by debilitating emotional attachments.  Maybe they'll call me back in a new way.  Maybe I'll even write some interesting stories about my encounters with people there.  I'll certainly take some pictures to have proof.  

Things are looking up.  For now.

Day in the life

(Feb 6th)

16.30  Seeing off meet-ee.  Miserable meeting.  Both of us were tired.  

16.40 Grab my things to get on down to the post office to pick up a parcel that had been waiting for me for ages as well as do some supermarket shopping on the way back.

17.30 Long wait at post office.  Woman behind counter says something I don't understand and I feel huge wave of shame at still not speaking the language of the country I now call home.  Despite huge efforts and financial investment, I'm still on the 'basic language only, don't give me anything trade-specific now!' level.

18.00 Walking into Tesco.  So glad to get out of the cold that was biting into my face and chilling my nose to so close to freezing that I expected an icicle to come out the next time I blew my nose.

18.15 No bin liners in Tesco for the sixth visit running.  How am I supposed to clear-out anything in my flat?!  They've finally got Earl Grey tea though.  Bonus.

18.25 Popped into Paul's bakery.  Current level of misery dictates I MUST have a chocolate-coffee combo dessert thing.  Stand in line, reading the damned thing in Czech, trying to work out how to say it: 'Čokoladový-Kavovaný rolada'.  Or something.  Waitress/Shop assistant scuppers my plan of standing and reading it off the label by asking me to walk over to the other till.  Manage to get the thing out in understandable pronunciation and from memory.  Congratulate myself for this.  In Czech.  (So can't be that f***ing useless at it afterall, eh?)

18.45 Home and things in fridge/cupboard.  Make tea.  Urgently.

18.55 Sit down to tea and dessert thing.

18.56 Remember that package from ex-partner and his new partner I picked up from post office.  Feel sick at thought of 'joint' birthday present.  Immediately inwardly reprimand myself for being so childish.  The mature thing to do is be grateful for something from two lovely people.  

19.00 Presents opened.  DVD of a Czech band I don't really like that much because I can't understand their lyrics.  Strange bird-like pottery thing.  Wing broken off.  Don't know what to do with this.  Book with weird but nice illustrations.  Search for any extra note slipped in that hasn't been seen by ex-partner's new partner.  Remember that she's too clever to get that kind of thing by her and he wouldn't want to do that kind of thing anymore anyway.  Or at least, not enough to go out of his way to do it.  Card is a watered-down version of the cards he used to send.  None of the usual words.  Nothing in English infact.  His stars are drawn without the little appendages that made them unique and pertinent to me.  I know what's missing.  He knew what was missing.  She probably didn't.  It just looks wrong.

19.05 Cry uncontrollably.  Try to put the things away somewhere I won't see them for a while.

19.15 Listen to latest obsession song.  "We Found Love".  (Rihanna)  Video of which is hedonistically depressing-and-euphoric all in one.  With a few anomalies for someone supposed to be living in a British council estate thrown in.  (Sanex bubble bath for one thing.)  

19.23  Decide to watch an episode of CSI NY while eating dessert thing with another cup of tea.  Dessert thing bit of a disappointment, due to consistency of chocolate mousse element.  It's too rich.

20.00 Have given up on CSI NY as can't concentrate.  Crying again.  Reach out for more dance tunes and rock/hip-hop tunes to blast in my ears in an attempt to get the sadness out.  It doesn't work, but it helps to feel like there's something to hold on to.  Decide to make a new playlist on iTunes.  Imagine driving along at speed to the tracks I add in, by way of distracting myself from my currently hopeless seeming reality.

21.30 Decide that if I'm to get up early tomorrow, I'd better get ready for bed now, as period pain, painkillers and crying have all made me feel extra tired already.

21.35 Try calling current boyfriend, but no answer.  Email him instead, saying how low I feel.

22.35 Finished watching CSI NY episode.  Hasn't made me feel better but I'm ready for sleep.

22.36 Boyfriend calls.  I'm too sad and too sleepy to answer but the ring is so loud, it's waking me up.  Decide to make new hot water bottle and then go to bed.

22.45 Check email to see if 'the boy' has written an email instead, seeing as he couldn't get through on phone.  He has.  He says he's sorry I'm feeling low.  Feel tiny bit better.

22.57 Finally attempt sleep.  But can't.  Toss and turn for a while.  

23.20 Get up to go to the loo.  This has to be the most pathetic attempt at getting an early night.

(Feb 7th)

05.00 Alarm goes off.  Yes, I did decide that having an extra half an hour to try to wake myself up would be better today.

05.09 Get up. Switch off alarm before it goes off again.

05.10 Fill kettle for tea, but decide I'm going straight to coffee this morning.  Turn on heating in bathroom so that it'll be bearable to have a shower in there later.

05.20 Sit up in bed and check emails.

05.50 Get in shower.

06.20 Getting ready to go, putting on make-up feeling like no amount will hide the tiredness.  It's a lost cause.

06.32 Leaving house.  Stupid hallway light switch provides illumination for whole 5 seconds before going out again, leaving me to have to feel around for how many more steps are left till the next light switch.  Repeat process at every half flight of stairs. 

06.34 Notice snow on ground as I get to courtyard.  Dammit, now I really am going to be late this morning, because it's going to be a nightmare walking downhill on Václavské náměstí.  Nothing I can do about that now.

06.45 Offload bag of paper and cardboard into recycling bank before continuing on to Václavské náměstí.  (Don't know why I chose this morning to finally catch up on that task, but oh well.)

06.55 Walking at barely one mile an hour, like an old lady, because every step is slippery and I'm convinced I'm going to fall over and look like an idiot.  

06.56 Realise I already look like an idiot for walking as slowly as this.

07.05 Already late for meeting, receptionist won't let me through without checking my name off on a list.  (Wish he would make my day by saying, "if yer name's not down, yer not comin' in", but of course he doesn't.)  I take a look at list, knowing my meet-ee won't have put my name on it.  As I read through, I realise it looks like the list hasn't been used since 1993 anyway, probably the last time they had a security upgrade involving actually asking visitors' names instead of just buzzing them through.  I relay that my name's not on the list and am asked for ID.  Show receptionist my passport, which he takes in hand as though it's a most tedious and cumbersome piece of documentation, but seems to be enjoying pointing out to whoever might be watching his attempts to 'beef up security' that this is how long it takes and - see! - he's doing it right!

07.07 Finally let through.  Already feel jet-lagged.

07.10 Start meeting

07.40 'Can I go yet?' starts to repeatedly run through my head.

08.10  Seriously. Want. To. Go. Back. To. Bed. Now.

08.35 I can finally leave.  Looking forward to the 'joy' of dealing with the receptionist again to let me out...

08.45 I'm free.  I'm cold.  I need a coffee.  I want to treat myself to that Snoopy book about feeling sad that I hoped ex-partner might have thought-read and got me for my birthday, but hasn't so I'll have to get it myself.  Appropriate cartoon found therein almost immediately about waiting till the next day and everything being all right.  Only to find out the next day that everything's the same.  Suggestion being, wait until the afternoon to get up.  Hmm.  Should have thought of that myself.

08.51 Can't face going straight home.  Who knows how noisy the building work is today.  Stop in at Starbucks to get a mocha.  My bit of Czech needed comes out fine, if a little tired-sounding.  Get nice seat.  Check emails and try to read the Guardian online but it's no use, jet-lagged feeling persists.  Looking outside window at people gingerly walking downhill, I feel a sense of dread at having to find the energy to get home after this.

09.35 Get up and start lengthy process of putting on all the layers necessary to deal with the cold I'll soon have to face.  This is the tiring bit about winter.  I'm fed up of it already.  What an utter grumbleweed I am.

09.50 Finally get home to find scaffolding up in the building downstairs (yes, indoors!) and I have to duck to get under it to be able to go up the stairs.  What next?  Seriously, I'm so fed up of this.

10.00 Another check of emails and then bed.  I've had enough and I need a break.  Sleep.  Ah...thank god.

10.15 Banging from builders will NOT prevent me from sleep.  I have my headphones in and I'm listening to music more loudly than they are banging.  Result.  

12.30 Wake up.  Still feel a bit jet-lagged but what the hell.

12.45 Decide that a second breakfast is the only way forward.  Have tea instead of coffee this time.  So glad for the Earl Grey tea that Tesco finally had yesterday.

13.00 Contemplate the idea of having a restful day instead of doing things I hate.  It makes such a big difference.  I can breathe!  I can live!  I could even do some writing...

13.05  Back to Rihanna (this time 'Umbrella') loudly in my ears to help me really wake up.

14.00 Another hot water bottle necessary.  As well as tea.  I've still got tummy ache.  It won't go away.

14.05 Writing:  Getting.  It.  All.  Out.

15.55 Back to crying.  Listening to this old Plan B track.   Hello depression, my old friend...

16.21 Marie Forleo video break.  God bless that woman.

New bakery and other reasons to be thankful

Welcome to another grey-skied Thursday in Praha.  

('Thanksgiving Day' for some, just another working day for me.) The reason for the lack of posts lately is down to working like crazy to fit in a drama workshop for three days, that cost quite a bit, as well as lost me a day and a half's wages.  So I've been working like a wheel-runnning hamster with an evening cage-cleaning job to just about recoup the expenses.  It's ok.  I've made back the money (just) but I haven't got the extra, better paid work from doing it that I'd hoped to get, so saving up for the inevitable down-turn of work in the lead-up to Christmas, taking time off for a visitor as well as being able to buy Christmas presents is still in question.  (As such, I haven't got a full day off today either, and I'm not just talking about having to do preparation work for tomorrow's epic day of back-to-back meet-ees from 12-19:30 with an extra meeting in the morning from 8-9.30.) 

I'm seriously considering putting a pot on my meeting table with the words 'Christmas Bonus' on it, in hope of some kind donations.  I fear this would just get laughed at though, because Czechs don't believe in giving tips.  At least, not to people like me.  While feeling sorry for myself about all of this, I did at least treat myself to a book via amazonmarket place.  (Thanks to a certain donation from a loyal reader, which I've been careful not to spend all in one go!  You know who you are!  Thank you!)  I was pleased to discover the seller is actually Oxfam books.  So I've contributed to a charity this week.  Isn't that good?

Anyway, I wanted to get out today, while I had a bit of time, so I ventured out to the newly opened 'Paul's' bakery around the corner.  Yes, it has finally opened TODAY!  So, I went along to get myself a pain au chocolat and a croissant, to 'test out'  (for research purposes only, of course) their wares.  

A pain au chocolat is called a 'čokoládová rolka' here though, which just seems funny, somehow.  And I was lucky enough to get served by a reasonably friendly member of staff (quite a find among the usual grumpy types here in the Czech Republic) and I even got a discount on the croissant!  Along with a flyer with a 'free coffee if you spend more than 50Kč' offer on it.  So I'll probably be making friends with these people, as money and trying not to end up the size of a house dictates...

In the meantime, I purposely set aside a tiny bit of 'me' time today to flick through the Czech Marie Claire I got yesterday (buying a Czech version is a third of the price of an imported UK or US one) and I'm actually quite impressed with their fashion pages this time.  They've still got a few silly articles in there that I'm not all that bothered about reading, but I was quite entertained by a number of sparkly things I found photographed on their pages.

I'm not normally much of a gold person, but I quite like the idea of a gold sequinned top reflecting the sun or a lamé top or skirt for dazzling people on a dreary winter evening:

I would also settle for a nice but sparkly jumper:

And if I wanted some new boots and money were no object, why not go the whole ostentatious hog and get these (swoon):

So there's a little bit of Thanksgiving dreaming for you.  (If I'm not going to get some turkey out of today, then surely a bit of ridiculous wistful longing for stuff I can't afford is perfectly allowed, right?)  I am grateful that I at least have a computer with which to continue writing these silly musings and a printer/photocopier/scanner which happily does its job when prompted.  And donations from kind readers who keep me going with my books and coffee fund!  Thank you!