I have been in the office for 40 minutes. I have eaten a chocolate croissant and am confident in my decision to never invite my French friends to visit London, lest they too fall prey to a moment of bad judgement and buy a Tesco bakery “croissant” (that is, an abomination seemingly constructed from damp cardboard and some sort of grainy chocolate substitute, a bland, disappointing and tasteless insult to French pastries). They would believe that I brought them to London to demonstrate how Brits take the piss out of the French on a daily basis by mass-producing disgusting breakfast items and calling them “croissants.” My French friends would leave immediately, and then I would be sad so we can’t let this happen. I have also finished my orange juice which is good because apparently it is important for me to get my vitamins (namely C and D, says Doc), especially what with the winter arriving and my mood crashing daily.
I have been in the office for 48 minutes. Thinking about croissants took longer than anticipated and J keeps loitering behind my desk, trying to read what I’m writing. I have read an article listing the top 10 Eliot poems that everyone should read. I was relieved that Prufrock was on the list because I’ve noticed that sometimes when people compile these types of listicles they deliberately omit the obvious choices in order to appear ‘edgy’ or ‘unique.’ This article can be read here. I like Interesting Literature’s blog- it’s informative but easy to read, so you don’t feel overwhelmed with information but you always learn something new. The Raven by Poe is one of my all-time favourite poems, and Interesting Literature posted a great article on how Poe actually wrote the poem, his method of composing The Raven (you can read this article here).
I have been in the office for 67 minutes. I have also had a look at the blogs of two wonderful women, who both have bipolar like myself, who are both experiencing similar struggles with daily life, who are both doing a damn good job with recovery. I always read their latest posts to check on their progress because it inspires me with my own recovery. And it makes me happy to know that there is hope. To discover that Becky finally got the Masters degree classification that she deserved despite a long, hard personal battle with her inner demons actually put tears in my eye (I was nearly crying on the bus and people were looking at me like I’m insane, but I am insane, so it’s fine). Her posts about alcoholism are enlightening, providing new angles that I’d never considered before. I like the way that her posts are intelligent and pragmatic: we see her actual thought process on the page, and we read the questions that Becky is asking herself as she continues her journey, working out what is truly best for her and what makes her happy. Awesome stuff, check out her blog here: Only See Your Good Side.
I have been in the office for 82 minutes. The second personal blog I regularly keep tabs on belongs to Kait Mauro, who documents her life through her stunning photography and diary-style posts. Again, Kait is on a journey of self-discovery: a bipolar diagnosis earlier this year as well as struggles with anxiety and diabetes, plus studying, plus all the other shit that 20-somethings have to deal with means that life for Kait at the moment is about trying to new things, being comfortable, looking after her little dog (so cute) and doing what makes her happy and stable. Read her stuff here: DON’T FLINCH. And, I mean this in the least creepy way possible, it’s a relief to see a new post from these girls come up on my feed because it means that they’re safe and stable, and not in an emergency room somewhere. And if they can keep going, then so can I. Thanks, ladies!
I have been in the office for 93 minutes. I just looked at my own blog. At the top of the page there is a link to my participation in last year’s NaBloPoMo. I posted a journal entry on this blog every day during last November apart from one day in which I relapsed and was too ill to write. I wrote those posts a year ago. A year ago, when I was at university, and was still with R.L. Everything has changed. When I think about this time last year, I want to throw up. I am sitting at my desk and my cheeks are flushed and my stomach has got very tight and I feel like I’m going to be sick. Usually, after a year has passed, people reflect on all that they have achieved during that year and ponder whether they are happier than they were a year ago. I don’t know how to answer that question for myself. Am I happier now than I was this time last year, November 2013? I don’t know. I don’t think so. I don’t know.
I have been in the office for 106 minutes. My colleague hasn’t turned up. This means, hopefully, that I can work at my own pace for a couple of hours and then skive off and go home at lunchtime. I. Am. Ecstatic. I just pray he doesn’t turn up, then I’ll have to stay until after 5 and the thought of doing that makes me want to smash my head against the wall. I’m going for a cigarette. I’m going to say a silent prayer that he is not sitting in his desk when I get back.
I have been in the office for 113 minutes. My colleague is at his desk.
I have been in the office for 113 minutes. I want to cry.
I have been in the office for 114 minutes. I want to go home to bed.