If I had a bullet and a gun right now I’d kill myself
I’m definitely going to kill myself
I am sending texts to my work husband. People are walking between the tables like prison guards at The Maze and I’m half expecting a baton to come crashing down on my illicitly texting hand.
I’m at some sort of unconference but I think they could have better marketed it as an alternative to a fume filled car. It’s kind of ironic that this mental torture is happening in Amnesty International’s HQ. I want to start screaming about human rights violations but then I turn and see the pictures on the wall of refugees and starving children and guilt swallows my temper tantrum. I decide to focus. On what my feedback comments are going to be.
At 1.01pm I can be found propping up the bar in the Barley Mow where I have fled so fast that the other people at the conference are probably still rising from their seats to join the queue for limp sandwiches whilst I am already pouring a cold beer down my throat. I contemplate staying here all afternoon making friends with Negro Modelo but then a woman with a voice like she’s been dragged over hot coals whilst smoking 50 B&H all at once sits next to me and orders a double baileys. I see the future and decide to be brave and return.
Refreshed from my pint and a quick spin around American Apparel (one skirt – check) I bounce back into the room. Within 5 minutes I’ve had to leave a conversation before I speared someone with my chicken satay skewer for being a twat. I think the beer has made me aggressive. No, I smile at myself, that’s just me.
The afternoon trudges by, though they cut the last hour – something which I feel I can take credit for – sometimes having an unpoker face works. Without saying a word I have curdled the atmosphere to such a degree than four grown adults feel the only cure is to bring proceedings to a premature close. Bliss – there is now time for a quick file and varnish at Nails Inc.
Like Alannis Morisette, everything seems ironic to me today. Yesterday I was waxing lyrical about how great work was and how I was having second thoughts about leaving. Well now life, that great, wise teacher has ripped the rose tinted contact lenses from my eyes and reminded that there’s quite a lot I don’t enjoy in my day to day working life. Today has once and for all cured me of my fear of jumping off the cliff. I am now running full tilt towards it.