Bite Your Tongue

43e39040You know how I feel about picking your fucks

You know that try as I might I am not your average ‘No Fucks Given’ kinda person. It’s a crying shame and I wish I was more inclined to think that way, however, I am already starting to give too much of a fuck about not being that person so I will stop now. Step away from the fucks.

This weekend I was full of angst for no real or good reason (life) but I talked it through with my lovely mum and she said “Bite your tongue for now, if it isn’t worth it” – and you know what – it isn’t worth it.

It’s not worth it to be shredding myself up from the inside out because I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future (the economy, the government, the Kardashian/Swift feud).

I might not be fulfilling the secret ambitions I don’t even know I have and I might be freaking out about turning 40 but I can’t do anything about it. Time turns and I will be that age soon and then way beyond it, whether I like it or not.

I may turn into a troll with a wrinkly neck and I may get fatter, I may get thinner and I may lose friends and make friends and lose jobs and save money and spend it all again. And I may sometimes lie awake at night and wonder if all I have is built like a house of cards, destined to all come toppling down with the faintest wisp of breath. Or that I will upset someone or hurt them or dismiss them accidentally and lose them forever. I will be loved and disliked and I can’t control every person I meet and it doesn’t matter anyway, does it?

So here’s to biting your tongue if it isn’t worth it.

Here’s to respecting the love and friendship we have and enjoying life as much as is humanly possible. The world may crumble around us but we still have so much good to really give a fuck about, to really yell about. In those moments, never bite your tongue, shout your joy from the highest window, as often as you can. Fight for what is right and true in your heart and use up those fucks, flap that tongue then – but only then.

Thanks Mum ❤

Doing What You Love

There were several times last week when I uttered the defeatist’s favourite words: “I can’t do this”.

I cried on a friend over cheesy chips (thanks Beck), stopped sleeping, eating and talking; and made my husband worry. Why? A stupid pointless project at work.

For the record, I don’t operate on brains, seek cures for disease or make political decisions that can make or break the nation: it’s a bloody website.

Work. Of all things, driving me mad. What is that about?

Where usually I am proud of how I work and what I produce, this fortnight I’ve been reduced to an (even more) over-apologetic lamb, worried about every decision I make, every potential mistake I haven’t even made yet.

That says a lot about the lack of real support we get as a department as much as it does about me. But I don’t see that changing any time soon.

I’m a creative goddammit being placed in a position of management (without the authority) and I never wanted that. I like tech without having the technical know how. I like learning new things but I need to be taught first!

Anywhoo, these last weeks have been a wake up call. I’m becoming all too aware of anxiety and stress. Work may have tipped me over but it’s not just that, it could be anything really – for a while it was a minor tax blip that kept me awake at night. Often I feel I’m about to lose everything and everyone, and I might as well walk into a river with stones in my pockets like Virginia Woolf.

My coping mechanism is rusty, I know that’s all it is. Close friends know exactly how I feel because they go there too sometimes and it’s not a rare feeling. Self-doubt is common but it’s also a little shit that needs to be disciplined.

I talk about self-care a lot on my blog but my main goal for the next few months isn’t ‘book a holiday’ or ‘lose 3 stone’, it’s ‘learn to deal’. I can’t let something so ultimately meaningless derail me, nor can I let the next big thing break me. I want to enjoy life.

Something Becky said over those delicious chips made me think. Maybe I should just do something okay that pays the bills for now, so I can do and pursue the things I really love outside of that, like writing.

That’s what I enjoy doing, what I’m good at and what I’m confident in.

Whatever that ultimately gentler/less taxing job might be, perhaps it’s time to start looking for it.

What’s your coping strategy when dealing with stress? Meditation? Vodka? Shopping? ❤

Dealing with Work the Riot Grrrl Way


  • [Called into boss’ office for a rollicking]

Boss: What have you got to say for yourself then, Christa?
Me: *Lifts shirt to reveal ‘FUCK THE PATRIACHY’ etched across belly in black eyeliner*
Boss: …

  • [In meeting]

Boss: Where are we at with that thing, Christa?
Me: *Pushes knuckles together to spell out ‘Revolution’*
Boss: No, but really
Me: *Stares*
Boss: Get out

  • [Boss enters office]

Boss: Where’s Christa?
Colleague: Dunno, but she stuck that to your door with an envelope opener:
Boss: Not again