Dictionary

Anticipating (aka Trying To Focus On The Good Stuff)

Pronunciation: /an-tis-uh-peyt-ing/

“I’m taking off; I’m going to Rio; I’m getting lost to find an alter ego” from:  Rio by Mika

That’s it. I am taking off. Seriously considering doing what Mika sings about in his song Rio. Maybe I will really be myself when I’m someone else, who knows? I do know being me has stopped being fun for a long, long time. Honestly, the only good, nice, positive thing I have right now to look forward to (apart from seeing real life pandas next weekend) is Mika’s concert in Amsterdam.

And I swear, I feel as if I am coming down with the flu that’s kept my mother down for the past ten days, but I don’t care. Nothing, nothing is going to keep me from going to that concert! I already instructed my mum on how to drag my dead body there in case I die before September the twenty-second. I WILL be there!

I am upset and the reason is a mixed one, but mostly it’s my work schedule for next week. I receive a new one each Thursday for the upcoming week, and usually it’s a bit of the same. But next Monday we have a meeting planned, which is fine because we were told in advance so I knew about it.

What I didn’t know is that they would squeeze in one extra address between my first client and the meeting. Which basically means… stress.

Here’s the situation: normally I start at nine a.m. on Mondays. That’s a three-and-a-half-hour address, so I get off at half past twelve. But the second address, the extra one, is a three-hour appointment, and the work meeting starts at half past three p.m. sharp, so I’d never make it there in time (taking into account the time I need to get to and fro).

In order to fix this problem, my boss (without asking me) scheduled me in to start half an hour early at my regular client’s. “Solved!” is what she must have thought. Although I doubt she thinks at all. I believe she lacks that capacity. But whatever, breaking down the fun stuff/my problem:

  • Address One is located in City A
  • Address Two is located in City B; according to Google Maps it will take me at least eighteen minutes to get here from Address One, but I’ve only been given fifteen minutes for the travel. Ergo: I will be late! (If I have to work until twelve, it doesn’t mean I’ll be in my car at twelve. And that means I have about ten minutes to get to Address Two, but the travel time is about twice that much, so I’ll never make it in time)
  • The meeting is in City A; I have been given fifteen minutes to travel there from Address Two, which brings us back to the problem of why I am going to arrive late there in the first place.

So not only do I get to jojo from A to B and back to A, another question that rises is: when do I eat?
Officially, I am not allowed to eat when being with a client. So, again: when do I eat when all I get is time to clean and race around in my car? I can only assume my boss thinks I am fat and don’t need food, just as I think she’s brain-dead and didn’t need to reproduce.

I have no idea what I am going to do about this. My boss is off tomorrow afternoon, so I can’t reach her by phone since I have to work all morning and start before she’s even in. I tried composing a decent email but all my tries ended up sounding aggressive, which might not be the best way to go (something about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer).

I think I am just going to do my job on Monday and be half an hour late to the work meeting. At least.
I also think I am not going to wait until the end of the year to quit my job, as planned, but am going to tell my boss not to prolong my contract after it’s ending date (November twenty-nine).

But mostly I think I am going to anticipate Mika’s concert more than I did before. It’s sad, but it’s the only light I have. A teeny, tiny light in my otherwise dark horizon. I am going to grab it and hold on to it until the magic’s over, wondering what songs he’s going to perform and if I can memorize his new tracks beforehand.

And afterwards, I’m going to Rio (well, my plan is Canada but who cares), getting myself an alter ego. A snappier one.

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