A friend and I were talking the other night about what I might do career-wise once I've been restored. She's coming up for retirement and was a journalist at the time when anarchists ran newsrooms, reporters lived and drank and died on the job, press statements just didn't exist and rebelling from anything you were told by authority was actively encouraged. In short, when it was still fun.
We both share a cynical wit about stuff and in particular, when as a Public Relations specialist, you are invited along to a company meeting about an 'exciting new initiative that needs promoting'. Most of these aren't new, exciting or used much initiative to conceive and when you have launched ten awareness campaigns you have launched a thousand.
"The trouble is, " I said," I think I would have a real job being employable in a conventional sense as I spend too much time in big meetings resisting the urge to shout 'this is all dog shit' and walk out."
"Then my girl, you need to invent a time machine or work for yourself because i've been resisting the same urge since the seventies," came her reply. So, it's led me to think what grown up job I will do once i'm better because if anything, being ill has made me even more outspoken and more rebellious and less likely to sit through three hours of meetings which could have been watered down to a ten minute chat if we all didn't just fancy an easy afternoon. All ideas welcome.
Talking of being outspoken, it does back fire at times. Namely yesterday when I decided to blog about my day of no poo. Despite being a baldy on chemo, i've been keeping up with the online dating. It's surprising but it's not been the put off I expected it to. I forgot I had mentioned to one chap I had been talking to that I blog and as we added each other on Facebook he has been able to see my updates. He would have chosen to read yesterday's, wouldn't he?! I awoke this morning to a suggestion of 'try green tea to improve motion' with a ton of crying laughter emojis. Its not your usual topics of conversation when dating and the sheer horror of what happened made me think of running outside and burying my phone in the garden to make it all go away. Must remember to censor self or create alternative 'normal' profile. Still, I think the gravity of the situation did the trick; )