It’s a rare afternoon when I get a couple of hours to myself but today is one of them. Eddy and Pud have gone off to cricket and I’m hoping they don’t come back within twenty minutes like they did when football training was cancelled this morning. I fear that Eddy will bear the scars of witnessing me doing a workout DVD in my Elmo pyjamas and no bra for a LONG time to come. Molly has her best mate round and they’re upstairs, doing some sort of live stream on some sort of social media which I unwittingly got caught up in when I popped my head round the door earlier and asked what they wanted for lunch, and they had to stop streaming while I moaned that I didn’t want to cook sausages for Molly when she asked for them. It’s rock and roll in our house.
I decided to use this unexpected interlude to do a bit of writing. Unfortunately though, I don’t have anything in particular to write about today. This happens sometimes; some days I have loads I want to write but no time to write it, other days I have the time but no inspiration. Today is one of those inspiration-lacking days.
So instead of racking my brains to come up with something witty and entertaining, I’m going to write about something that a colleague said to me last week as she left the office. On her way out, she stopped at my desk and told me that she’d read my latest blog post (the one about Molly leaving us for a week to go on her jollies) and really enjoyed it. She said that I had a talent for writing and was funny with it as well. I told her that I’ve never had a talent before and it’s true – I’m not sporty, I’m not creative, I’m average at cooking and you’ve seen my attempts at DIY dear reader. The only talent I’ve ever possessed is to be able to eat three Wispa Golds in one sitting and not vomit (I didn’t tell said colleague this as she would probably have been repulsed by such an admission and retracted her kind words immediately).
I can’t tell you what her comments meant to me, and what particularly struck me is that she didn’t have to go out of her way to say these things either. We don’t know each other too well and have only had the odd brief chat here and there. She doesn’t follow my blog and only read it by chance as a mutual friend had commented on it, but she was so positive about it I could have kissed her (I didn’t though; things may have quickly taken a turn down the sexual harassment route at work if I had).
I guess what I’m trying to say in a rather clumsy way is that in today’s competitive, go-getting world there seems to be a heck of a lot of talk and crappy ‘inspirational’ quotes about being the best, stopping at nothing to be the best, stamping on your Gran’s head to be the best, being the best version of yourself and so on and so forth, when in my humble opinion sometimes it’s not about being the best. If you’re one of those rare breeds that lacks a little self-belief from time to time, sometimes it’s enough that someone has made the effort to recognise something that means a lot to you, even when you know your limitations. And I do know my writing imitations…which is why I appreciated my colleague’s words so much.
And considering I didn’t know what to write about today, I seem to have delivered a bit of a self-indulgent sermon haven’t I? But fear not dear reader – normal service will be resumed next time when there will no doubt be mention of walking, complaints about my husband and bragging about Eddy’s latest cricket achievements….