Dear Rain

I don’t appreciate you making my walk to work uncomfortable

I don’t appreciate my shoes being soaked through or arriving to work with damp clothing

You make me angry

I hate your dark skies and annoying wind, blowing stray raindrops in my hair

Rain, because my trousers are wet and my feet are cold

I now have a sore throat

You are an inconvenience during the day

Why can you not visit at night when most of us are tucked up in bed or between 9am-5pm when most of us are safe inside our office buildings?

I know that you are not useless

You make things grow

Keep them nourished

But today Rain, I wish I’d never woken up to you. 

Inside a bubble

Something happened. Something, that I can't really explain, happened to me this weekend and now my world is in a state of change. 

Things I thought were solid are not as stable as I believed, and my emotions are all over the place.

I switch between a completely rational mental state to an almost coma like paralysis. I can't breathe, I feel fidgety and unstable. I can be laughing at something one minute and be struggling to breathe through my sobs the next.

I am in limbo. 

Something happened. Something, that I can't really explain, happened to me this weekend and now my world is in a state of change. 

Stuck in the FUNK

Do you ever feel like you're in a funny head space?

There are times, when the grey clouds cover the sky, and I feel myself tuning out of life. My mood shifts from 'general sunny disposition' to 'don't even fucking look at me as I do and will bite'.

If this mood happens to fall on a weekend you should count yourselves lucky, because I spend my time stuck to the sofa, flicking from channel to channel muttering expletives because I cannot find anything worthy to watch, stuff my face with crap and then get really annoyed at myself being I feel fat, and so restless that I could scream - NO, this is not PMS if that's what you're thinking.

If I have to go to work, I don't talk to anyone, reschedule my meetings and spend the entire day with my headphones in, sporting the best bitchy-resting-face I can be arsed to muster. These are potentially some of the most productive days in my working week because I do not put up with distractions. If I have to answer questions, I do not speak them, in fact I'm sure any form of verbal communication comes out as an actual bark.

Motivation is at an all time low, if I can even be bothered to get up it'll take a few hours for me to get in the shower and get dressed - many times I've just sat around in a towel all day. I feel lost, confused and a little upset. I start to question what I'm doing with my life, my worth, and WTF I've spent my months wages on.

BAD times.

Sometimes it only lasts for a day, maybe two.

Then I'll wake up the next day and before I've even realised, I'm in a better place. The clouds in my mind have dissipated and I can see clearly again.

I try not to let this mental rage hurricane darken my skies but sometimes, just like you need to cry for no particular reason, I just need ride it out. I'll pre-warn my friends and family so they know what they're dealing with and just get ready to face the storm.

If you find yourselves feeling the same, here's a cool blog post I found with 20 ways to pull yourself out of a funk.

Thanks for your time

British people do not complain... we get shit service and we accept it, right? Well, in normal circumstances I don't really and get really angry about it afterwards. However, this blog post is actually an extension of a complaint that I've taken with the BUXTON Group for the last two months.

I'll give you some context and then I'll be sharing my, and the boyf's, communication with this stupid company. So, we rent a flat through an agency based in Shoreditch but the building we live in is owned or managed by the Fuckston, I mean, Buxton Group.

The boyf and I had been living in our one bedroom flat for 6 months before deciding to buy a sofabed so friends could stay. This meant we had to store the current sofa somewhere. We decided that it wouldn't hurt to put the sofa outside in our hallway in the meantime as there had been chairs sitting there since the day we moved in and it hadn't been a problem.

One day, I was leaving the flat to go to work and there was a man dismantling our sofa. I asked who he was and he claimed that he worked for the Buxton Group, that the sofa was a fire hazard and he had to take it away. I told him that it belonged to our landlord and that I'd need to inform the agency we rent the flat through. He said he'd get in touch with them himself. Anyway, I left and emailed my agency that day explaining what happened. But when I got home, this is what I found....

As if that's NOT a fire hazard now!! Before the sofa was pressed against the wall on the right, out of the way of the window. I was fucking fuming! So I wrote the following email....

Dear Scott, 

My name is Amy Gentles-McKie and I am a current tenant of 15 Turin Street, E2 6NJ. 

I'm forwarding an email I sent to a general information email address for Buxton Properties as though I was told the building is serviced or managed by the Buxton Group, I needed to report an incident I experienced last Monday. 

As I rent my flat through an agency I had no means to confirm your company details except for the Cleaning Attendance signing sheet we have taped up in our hallway. Our agency was kind enough to pass on your email address but only after I sent the original email. 

I do hope you can help as I'm slightly concerned that what I experienced may have potentially been a burglary in action.  

I hope to hear from you soon. 

Fwd: To whom this may concern, 

On Monday morning when I was leaving my flat for work at about 8.55am, I came across a man who said he worked for your company, dismantling a sofa that was being stored at the end of our landing. The sofa belongs to the flat I live in and we rent it through Bridge Estate Agents. 

This person said that it had to be removed immediately because it caused a fire hazard, even though it was neatly positioned out of the way, not obstructing any exits. We had already spoken to our neighbours that share the floor about storing the furniture out there and they had confirmed previous tenants had used that space to store items. My partner and I had just bought a new sofa and were making plans to put the old one into storage at the weekend anyway. 

I was a bit concerned that we were given no warning of it having to be moved, therefore not giving us a chance to arrange our own removal seeing as it is not our property but that of our landlord. I immediately contacted our agency, who were also unaware of this happening. 

When I returned home that evening I was met with the sofa partially dismantled and more of an obstruction than it had initially been thought - see attachment. We have now had to move the remainder of the sofa, as the legs and arms are now missing, back into our flat for safe keeping. 

This person said they would report to our agency as I had clearly said the property was that of the landlord and therefore managed by Bridge, but the agency have not heard anything as yet. This is the reason I am now contacting you.

I am deeply concerned especially now I have realised parts of the original sofa have been taken which could result in a cost to us through no fault of our own. 

I have also attached a photograph of the signed sheet for cleaning attendance that is currently taped to the wall of our main entrance hallway - please be aware that no name was signed on Monday this week. 

I would like to contacted, or at least my agency contacted, with an explanation and a time for the legs and arms of the sofa to be returned. My contact at the agency is Michael Murphy, whom I have cc'd in this email. 

Regards,

This email bounced and so I went searching online to find another email address or telephone number. I finally found another email address and sent the above to them, followed up with several calls that never got answered. By this point I'd had enough so the boyf's took over - he has more patience.

He finally got through to someone five days ago. The person on the phone wouldn't help - yes I said WOULDN'T HELP - but gave yet another email address to contact. The boyf sent this:

I've just been given this address following a telephone conversation with one of your colleagues.  She mentioned that you are out of the office today but would be contactable via email.

I'm a resident at 15 Turin Street, Bethnal Green.  Last month, my girlfriend and I purchased a new sofa and had placed our old sofa out in the hallway ready to be put in to storage.  As my girlfriend was leaving for work one day, she found a man dismantling the sofa, saying that he worked for the Buxton Group and was removing it as it was a fire hazard - it was not blocking any stairwells and was placed where two large chairs had been situated since we moved in to the property.  My girlfriend explained the situation, before heading off to work.  We arrived home to find half of the sofa gone.  We brought the remaining parts of the sofa back in to our flat and contacted Bridge Estate Agents and a Buxton Group representative about getting the rest of our sofa back.  We have not received any correspondence from anyone at your company and Bridge only direct us to you.

Obviously we would like the original sofa back or a suitable replacement, as we will be liable to pay for the sofa at the completion of our lease.

Please advise on how we should proceed.

Many thanks

No response. RAGE! So he called again yesterday and then sent me a text saying:
"Just spoke to a woman from the Buxton Group, so dismissive. I remained polite, but put the phone down and called her a f*****g w***e". 

She must have been a bitch if he got angry because he is such an easy-going guy. The agency contacted the landlord who called the Buxton Group; end result? They said it's OUR fault for leaving it out there. OUR FAULT.

I'm now going to contact the local police and seek advice as, as far as I'm concerned, that sofa was stolen and the Buxton Group are not taking responsibility for their dodgy employees.

So a word of warning to all those looking for a flat/apartment to live, renting or buying; double check who owns your building because the Buxton Group looks after number one!

My rant is over!

Summer weekend - there's nothing like it

So, Saturday night saw me celebrating 2 years of being in love! Awwwww, I know. But it's totally something I should celebrate because my beautiful boyf is someone who is strong enough to pull me up on all my bullsh*t behaviour/excuses/outlook; is supportive enough to let me cry on his shoulder or chest (whichever is readily available) just because I need to cry and for no other reason; as well as being kind, and silly, enough to play-fight with me late at night when he has to get up at the crack of dawn because I am restless.

Blimey this boy needs a medal for putting up with me :)

Anyway that's not the point of this post, the point is that I booked us tickets to see Thriller - LIVE and it was totally awesome!!!!!

At first I wasn't entirely sure what I was supposed to be watching because I didn't read anything about the show leading up to the date we had tickets for it, after all I was going because of my love for MJ hits not the shows ratings. Within minutes I was singing away to some early J5 hit songs, initially quietly because I'd already partly embarrassed myself by accusing the girl sitting next to me of being my one of my booked seats before I realised that I had in fact read the seat numbers wrong in my excitement to get in there. Then they had us up dancing, part-taking in the show and I loved every second of it.

The performance to Dirty Diana, one of my favourite tunes, was just as erotic and 'dirty' as the tone of the song. When it was over I had a sore throat from screaming, hollering, hollering and whooping and a sudden urge to dance the night away.Unfortunately the boyf was pooped, so we walked through the busy streets of Soho until we got to our bus stop, singing an array of Michael's songs to each other in the cool Summer breeze.

Sunday brought with it an energetic start, for me anyway as I am lazy remember, and I hit the boyf's studio for a run through of a new circuit session. As I type this a day later I can confirm that my pecs and shoulder burn a little but it's that good pain. That kind of pain that tells me I did something my muscles are not used too. Don't get me wrong I still need all the motivation help I can get when it comes to not eating crap and hitting the gym but as long as I can get myself there 2-3 times a week I'm happy.

After a cold shower, because the heat makes me a freaking hot mess, the boyf and I packed up an impromptu picnic and headed to Hyde Park for some summer sunning with a couple of friends. 

All in all, it was a great weekend full of sunshine, friends and laughter. Such a shame everyday can't be as perfect :)

Feeling HOT, HOT, HOT

Sweaty doesn't even begin to describe it. Add sticky, thirsty, uncomfortable and, for some, a little smelly to the mix and we might be getting somewhere.

Now don't get me wrong, I LOVE the sunshine. It makes most people happier, friendlier sometimes more outgoing!

We wait months and months, praying for a summer to rival The Med islands we now pay a fortune to visit for a week or two and when we get it, EVERYONE starts to complain.

HA!

I may have a need for a cold shower and reapply the sweat smudged make-up by the time I've walked to work but isn't it glorious?

This is from my lunch break!!!!

"I'm loving it, loving it, loving it"

Mission Impooible (instead of possible)

Now this might not be to your taste but I have something to declare....

I have to be sneaky if I want to do a 'number 2' at work.

Please feel free to leave now if you're disgusted, I don't blame you, talking about poo has always been taboo. WHY? We all do it.

I've always been funny about going to the toilet. There was a point about ten years ago when I had to go to the doctor and get it all sucked out because I was so backed up I couldn't go without a little help.

I'd go to the toilet when I was comfortable, which meant either when I was in the house alone (I lived with my ex boyf), at my mum's - a 40 minute drive away or at my grandparent's who live 2 and a half hours drive away. Basically I did not go often enough and it was making me seriously ill.

I remember the woman who was 'clearing me out' turning to me and saying: "Lovely, you gotta go when you gotta go. This is not healthy." Since that day I make a conscious effort to go when I need to go.

Still it took me at least 6 months to be comfortable enough around my boyf to be able to go when he was in the house, which was the complete opposite to him - who is open with me about his daily bowel movements - it must be love.

Anyway back on topic, I work on the 1st floor of my office building and there are two toilets, one for the males and one for the females. On the floor below there are two sets, the floor below that (-1) one for the ladies, one for the boys and finally the basement.

Today I have been down to the basement on a secret mission twice. I'll take a laptop, a notepad but most just my phone, so if I get stopped I can pretend I just needed a quiet 5 minutes for a task when really it's so I can poo in peace and not have to worry anyone will hear me or worse... smell it!

*shudders*

That morning after the night before feeling

I'm in a bizarre space at the minute. I'm not sure if I'm just in a mood or suffering from a hangover. 

To give you some context, I spent a lot of yesterday in the sun. I'm not pasty as the few days of sunshine we have had this year, I've been blessed with catching some colour but even so, it's always nice to sit out in the sun. I drank lots of water to keep well hydrated, watched some of the Lions game, a little of the women's final (tennis) and then went out to a party last night that I didn't really want to go to but was duty bound. Had an okay time but I drank a lot of cheap, horrible tasting wine to get through it.

The result was that I slept badly.

I dreamt that I was in a place surrounded by tall glass buildings, with people I know from work but also some family members, and bombs kept exploding causing shards of glass to rain all round me. I spent most of the dream trying to figure out the location of the next bomb to go off in order to run from it, dragging a friend or family member away with me.

So now I'm a bit 'meh'.

I'm currently at the boyf's parent's house in Devon and tomorrow morning shall see me up at the crack of dawn to catch a train back to London so I can go to work. I am not a morning person so you can imagine, I'm not looking forward to that AT ALL.

Maybe it is just a mood brought on by the wine, which essentially means it's a hangover. I hope it f***s off soon because it's doing my head in.