Monday, September 16, 2019

The Place Where We Belong. Or Don't

At the moment, I am feeling quite content with the job I have and the work I do. I'm even starting to feel a tiny little bit of belonging. I know, now I've said it.  Even more importantly, I really get on well with most of my immediate colleagues and even though Bestie Boy has just left the company I don't feel I'll be lonely there, the way I felt at the Firm when the Empress went to Paris or the Gazelle went on maternity leave and I felt quite deflated. Metaphorically, you could say I am slowly starting to unpack my carry-on suitcase at the office, no longer feeling I should not get too comfortable there. Well, also literally, my locker suggests that I have already dumped a lot of stuff there, too.
Myself aside, I know of some seriously unhappy bunnies who feel frustrated, unvalued or hard done by for a variety of very valid reasons. Last week I talked to several friends who'd leave their current job today rather than tomorrow if something suitable came up. Despite the fact that I am quite happy now, I can immediately relate and it makes me sad and furious at the same time. We spend so much time every day at work (or if we work remotely, at least "with work") and it is just awful to feel miserable all those hours. I know of some men who feel like this as well and suspect a few more to be in this situation, but it is mostly women who are vocal about it and/or show the signs most. Yes, it is our own decision if we want to stick it out and decide to stay, or leave, but sometimes we are just too deep in it in order to be able to pull ourselves out of it and even see all the other options and opportunities. Hating your job or even worse, having the nagging feeling that you are hated at your job is beyond horrible and nobody deserves to feel like this unless they are a nasty bully themselves. If you are reading this and feel like you are trapped in a hellish work situation, just remember that you can walk away with your head held high and unless you have sold your soul to the company, it is only a job and you can find another, better one, even if it might take a little time.

Monday, September 09, 2019

The Unicorn

There are some things you need to experience yourself in order to believe in them. Like finding a fulfilling job in a team of lovely people who totally swim on your wavelength, with a manager as an added bonus who appreciates you and the work you do.
Sometimes these manifestations are very trivial, like actually finding that perfect pair of jeans that is both comfortable and makes you look like a long-legged goddess.
Sometimes they are way more profound and almost come as a shock to somebody whom (recent) experience has taught to be cautious and always expect the very worst: finding somebody who ticks all the boxes, says all the right things and does not play games, but makes you feel secure and wanted. It sounds so simple and obvious, but it is not and you are almost afraid to blink and break the spell.

Monday, September 02, 2019


I think we can all vividly remember what a "stretchy" concept time seemed when we were children. The hours between lunchtime and dinner on Christmas Eve: ENDLESS! Enduring a boring church service (or even a regular school day): NEVERENDING. Summer holidays: WAY TOO SHORT! Despite the fact that years have zoomed by since then at the speed of light, not much has changed. A day in the office filled by procrastinating boring and/or unpleasant tasks can feel like an eternity while spending time with someone you love seems to go by in a heartbeat. When you are looking forward to a certain event in the future, you (at least I do) want to have a big magic "fast forward" button that you can press in order to have that moment arrive immediately. Well, either that, or teleportation. At the moment I find myself in exactly that situation: waiting for a day to arrive and the time until then feels as endless, with days stubbornly stretching like stale chewing gum...

Sunday, August 25, 2019

Going Strong

I am not a very competitive person at all when it comes to professional challenges (sometimes so to a shocking degree), but I am weirdly competitive when it comes to childish and completely irrelevant things, such getting my money’s worth out of my 3-months ticket for Vienna’s summer pools. It will expire in two weeks and I have already used it 32 (!) times. I even went swimming when the weather was cold and grey, which meant that I sometimes was completely alone in the pool. I did not only do it to get value for money, but this little piece of plastic motivated me enough to go despite the weather.
This is just one example of silly competitiveness that keeps you motivated and makes you challenge yourself a bit. Doesn't hurt anyone in the process, but rewards you with a sense of accomplishment you get addicted to.

Monday, August 19, 2019

Tan Lines

I was recently talking about watches with a friend when she mentioned that she only ever wore hers in winter as she tried to avoid getting a tan line on her wrist. Whaaat? I could not believe it! How can you regard this as an unattractive thing?! Watching the progress of my summer tan on my wrist was so incredibly satisfactory when I was a teenager and I still love ALL my tan lines. I do not even want to have a seamless tan.
When I was a teenager I read a novel neither the title nor author of which I can remember. What I can remember vividly was that it was a coming of age story with a passage about the protagonist trying to impress the object of his juvenile desire and outdo his competitor by placing a love message in mirrored letters (cut out of newspaper) on his chest and patiently roasting in the sun until he was tanned enough for the white letters to be clearly visible for her. A true labour of love in my book!

Monday, August 12, 2019

Autopilot Holiday

This week, I am on my annual weekly summer vacation in Klagenfurt. As I spent the first eighteen years of my life here, I am of course still very familiar with the town. Last week I was in Nice for the tenth time (not counting my first visit passing through with my parents as a child). In autumn, I will be in Sydney for the fourth time. After Vienna, Sydney is probably my favourite city and thanks to a three-months work stint there, I have fond memories as I do of other places I have visited several times. 
Everybody understands that I come back to my birthplace where, after all, my parents live. Definitely not everyone understands why I am so keen on visiting Nice in the heat of summer or spend hours on planes to visit Australia, that many Europeans regard as a destination you visit once in your lifetime and then you're done.
For me, returning to places I have already been to (provided I liked them in the first place, that is) is a form of luxury and I relish the feeling of moving around like a local after a while. 
It is exciting to discover new places and to get to explore new destinations, but it is just as exciting not to have excitement, in the sense that there are no sights you feel obliged to tick off, no must-see places to take pictures of and most important, you can just navigate the city on autopilot, knowing exactly where you want to go. Despite that, you still discover new corners and get to witness gradual changes over the years, but you don't need a map. 
In a sense, I am addicted to this autopilot feeling and I also love being able to show other people my favourite spots like I did in Sofia, where I visited for the 25th time this June.

Monday, August 05, 2019



For most part of my adult life I absolutely despised cucumbers of the raw variety. I loved pickled ones in the form of gherkins, but I really, really gave cucumbers a wide berth, painstakingly removing them from Greek salad and elsewhere. In short: cucumbers and I just did not get on with each other. Until, suddenly, about two years ago, I started craving these baby ones I kept seeing in supermarkets and I have since often bought them as a snack for the pool or lake in summer. I am still not a fan of the big old cucumbers with thick skin, but can also eat these now.  Isn't it weird how our tastes change as we age and we suddenly enjoy something we used to hate? And it's not that I had never tasted cucumbers before and just decided I didn't like them like I am with sea creatures with tentacles or some Austrian traditional food of the very "rustic" variety (black pudding for example) that I won't even taste. Even weirder, when I met up with l'Italiana who was possibly an even worse cucumber-hater when I had last seen her, it turned out that she, too, now really loves them. What next?!?
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