Why can't some people choose...A or B or C or D or E

For as long as I can remember I've always just assumed that what I decide is the 'right' way to go. Oh certainly there have been BIG decisions that I have agonized over for a week or so, but typically no more than that. I get irritated when I can't make up my mind, and frequently turn to this blog to vent my uncertainty, and my frustrations with said ambivalence. But on the whole ask me for my opinion on something, virtually anything, and I'll give you a fairly quick answer.

For a large portion of my friends however this seems to be something of an impossible task. Asked whether to eat at one restaurant or another, it might takes them a dozen minutes to reach a choice. Me... 5 seconds, unless I'm trying to be diplomatic ie. let the ambivalent people have a voice (and invariably get annoyed that they can't make up their minds, or don't seem to want to, and make the choice anyway).

For a long time I've just assumed that for some reason people who don't like making choices don't like doing so because they are trying to appease those around them, and don't want to make the wrong choice. What made this line of reasoning worse for me, was that it was that apathetic approach which instead of appeasing irritated. I realize now it is nothing of the sort - ambivalence is a new psychological field and scientists have done some interesting work in working out some fairly straight-forward differences.

People who make choices quickly (me) feel a pressure to perform, to act. They don't know why - some say: oh because in the developmental stage when inaction resulted in a negative experience, action resulted in a positive, thus reinforcing quick action. I don't know if I buy that, it seems as if we place far to much emphasis on childhood developmental trauma. The inverse is true from those who cannot make a choice, or who feel the need to take things to a far greater level of understanding before choosing.

Now here is where the Human being gets wonderful. We are all proactive and reactive on different levels. The gods (and you dear reader) know that I agonize over certain decisions, typically emotional ones, whereas in terms of making a call when it comes to everyday life I call it at the drop of a hat. And I am sure that my friends who cannot make a call in social life, make them elsewhere... the bedroom perhaps? Or the kitchen. Or the computer game simulator.

And then you get the people who are balanced... don't you always? These fuckers are the ones who make the rest of look bad. Balance is apparently the goal of all humans, but I maintain, and will do so to my dieing breath, it is us, the Unbalanced, the bring life to the world. But I digress. The balanced are those who can take a moment or five, look at as much info as they can get, and then make a call based on fairly good reasoning.

I admire these people, although I have found that these people tend to be very circumspect, and very isolated. They don't seem to want others input. My guess (quick decision) would be that others opinions and answers are tainted or skewed. If so the balanced thinker is then unbalanced insofar as not wanting others thoughts in their heads. I am generalizing but well... generally I'm wrong in a right kind of way.

Is there a way to change how you think? Can the decision-makers learn to slow down, to think about things? Can the decision-avoiders learn to follow their gut more and make on the spot calls? Can the balanced-decisioners (new word) learn to trust others more?

I don't know. I often try to change myself. To see if I can, and to see if maybe I can become a better person. I have long tried, perhaps contritely, to be more amenable, to consider my decisions more, and to let others try to reach a decision before I give my own. I find it incredibly taxing. It is like having a blood-hound tied up next to a blood trail, and waiting for a cat to decide to follow the blood. I am sure that there are cats out there who hate the over-eager blood-hound who never seems to pause for a moment.

And when I have tried to force those who don't like to make decisions to make decisions I end up getting angry at their persistent refusal to do so. And the balanced guys are even worse as they finally reach a conclusion but don't explain their reasoning. They understand it, but bugger anyone else who's failed to apply the pro's and con's and reach the same goal.

Now flittering around the back of my mind is 'How do I make a call?' Where does my sense of imperative come from? Is it pure arrogance? Is it gut (lord knows I have enough of that) feeling? Is it a quick wit? To be honest, I think it is all of the above. Logically I can't see things very quickly, but I do get concepts, and assimilate information quickly. I like things to move forward to I can see the whole picture, but not to spend a long time looking at it. I feel there is a need for a decision. But why?

And what do the non-deciders feel? A desperate need to make sure all angles are thought of and covered before making a choice? But then a circle of indecision as all angles seem to demand a different answer? I think it boils down to two things:

1 - Self Defense

2 - Self Positioning

1 - Self Defense

Not what you might have been thinking, by self defense I mean, the acceptance of defending one's self decisions. If I choose A, I need to be able to, prepared to, and responsible for making that choice. I should have clear reasons for doing it, explainable reasons. I should be prepared to tell others why.

What prevents this from becoming a form of bully/arrogance is also being prepared to change one's choice, and not forcing it down others throats. I frequently have to admit that I'm wrong, but do I do with grace? Sadly I think not as often as I should. But I am open to alternatives provided they are equally well defended...

2 - Self Positioning

If one positions oneself within a group as a follower who provides useful services, but doesn't want to take charge of a situation, then, those who have positioned themselves in authority will take charge. And it will become very difficult for the roles to swap. Those in charge won't understand why those who previously submitted, now want to be in command, and similarly they won't want to relinquish control either (because they wanted to be in control in the first place).

So if you put yourself in the position of an acquiescent that is how others will treat you, which will entrench that position. Whereas if you place yourself as a decision-maker (I initially wrote Leader, and then deleted it because I felt decision-maker was less domineering and more accommodating... do I see decision-makers as leaders? And if so, does that mean that I covert leadership? If that is true, what makes being a leader so important? Why not be a follower? Where does that desire to be seen as 'in charge' come from? Is it that subconsciously I feel that I am not in charge and need to vilification of others to hide from it? And if that is true, why do I not feel like I am in charge? My decisions are my own. I run my life according to my choices... and yet perhaps those choices are more reactions and actions... wow. Blog part 2 methinks) you entrench that position.

I can imagine as we get old and inculcate those positions of dominance/submission we become more and more dominant/submissive. So the time to change is - as it always is - NOW.

What are you? In which spheres of life? Quick to decide? Or mired in a sea of indecision? Or balanced but isolated? And is it worth changing or should we just accept these states, acknowledge that the world needs all three types, and be happy that we're not those fucking arseholes who make all the decisions, or the wankers who sit and do fuck-all because well... they can't seem to make up their minds (how did they get dressed in the morning one wonders), or that we are not those cold calculating androids who have as much personality as used condom?

8 in 5...

So now I'm a freelancer. It's 20:27 and I've just 'called it a night'. I am working solid right up until some mates arrive for the weekend, and even then I may sneak in an hour or three when they're sleeping. I have never worked so hard and so furiously in all my life. And yet, tonight when I go to bed, I can sleep a little easier knowing that I've put in a good hard days work, and have really earned my money. Sure I still wake up wondering what the fuck I'm doing and just how I'm going to find the fifteen odd thousand a month I need to survive.

That's a lot of money! But at the same time it isn't. And yet it is. And this is possibly the one quandary I now find myself in. This is purely a mathematical one, but I find the figures are not balancing. In the past they would have, in fact in the past it wouldn't even have been a maths equation. I am of course referring to the dilemma of the 'low paying day rate'. I am billing myself out at the modest rate of R1800 per day. Maybe a little higher if I can see there is room for it, and maybe a little less if it's long term stuff. My lecturing is the cheapest I'll go which is half that after tax. But it's easy work, and I love lecturing.

So when I'm offered an opportunity to work on a computer game to develop material it would, in the past, have been an easy answer. I would have done it without thinking. Now however there are two big minuses to that one big plus of novelty/coolness/awesomenessness. The first minus is that the date rate is roughly what I earn at Damelin after tax. So once tax is deducted from that, it's even less. Again in the past, I wouldn't have thought for a moment about it. The second problem is that because the rate is so low, I can't be collaborative. Initially - to get the job I hired a second animator and we worked on the gig together. It was awesome, and the end result was much better than I could have done on my own.

Now couple that to the fact that should I land a job from someone else on a freelance basis, I get to charge my full rate (or more) the problem grows. How then am I to choose between agreeing to take a job that in four days of work, generates roughly what two days of normal work generate? Do I let it run purely on figures? Do I coldly turn down the work? Or do I soldier on, generating material and blindly praying for no jobs to come in? The old saying: A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, is a constantly pecking at my head (for which I feel vaguely heterosexual with all this talk of birds and bushes...)

And this leads me to my next point: How much do you feel justifies your time? Working for myself my personal time is now totally at the mercy of 'the next job'. I don't mind the work, I actually enjoy it. It's a nice neat little puzzle that I can usually solve (unlike my forms of relaxation which is an interesting point). But at what point does one say: Hey my free time is worth XYZ and I'm not going to take a smaller job just so I can make money...

I wish humans came with different power levels so we could see: Happiness, Tenseness, neutralness, anger, boredom, frustration... This would be awesome and would solve a lot of problems. I wonder if we could genetically breed humans with little radioactive level indicators on their arms or something... Just imagine that old expression: read you like a book. OK so it would be: Read you like a nuclear power stations stats read out... but the point is there I think.

I will say this however, I have never felt more satisfied than I have working for myself. Truly setting up meetings, planning events, and then making them happen. And then - and this to me is the key - getting paid for it. Properly paid. None of this bullshit R90 and hour crap that full time offers. (Just wait until the end of the month this blog will be replaced with a whiney 'were's my paycheck' blog.)

So how much is your free time worth to you, and what kind of job satisfaction are you really realizing?

Or to be blunt: Are you truly paid enough to do the shit you do?

Resigned to jigsaw puzzles with a picture?

So I have resigned. Again. A friend commented that it's in my DNA. Another said that I'm a bright lad and will make my way. My internal voice said: What an asshole, you're an idiot. But I've been thinking a lot recently about life and how it leads us, and how we are lead by it, or kept at bay by it. I've been on holiday for almost a month; in which I spent enough time at home to wonder about why I go home, where I met up with friends and had a jolly time, where I didn't meet up with other friends and felt sad, where I had sex in a public toilet for the first time with a stranger (technically it was just heavy petting but hey, it's my scorecard and I'll mark it how I want to thank you very much [ and yes it was stupid and I could have been arrested, and he could have been given a disciplinary warning from his company, and it shouldn't have happened but you were not there, so stop judging me {and yes I realize I have failed that wonderful self-generated 'level of standards' that you're thinking I now sunk below and have started to wonder if perhaps I'm on drugs or fallen off the track or hanging out with the wrong people ... hang on, I've run out of brackets... so this will have to do ~ on which topic, those self-created standards, I encourage you to ask yourself: who is hurt by my apparent lack of adherence to non-public sex acts? ~}]). (Can I get an award for the use of almost all punctuation marks usage in a single sentence?)

Anyway my point is that I've had a lot of spare time on my hands, and since returning to Johannesburg I've had even more time on my hands. It's been filled with a new hobby which I have taken to with my usual other-enthusiasm. That same enthusiasm allowed me to resign from my job - which brought my to Johannesburg in the first place. I sit here pondering why. Why is it that I dive head first into a new job, bringing with it my creative energy which I've seldom found matched in others. I subsume myself into my projects becoming for a few months an arm-chair expert. But just as quickly as I become an authority on say, the Boer War, I loose interest. Just as quickly as the ink dried on my contract, I wanted to erase it and find something else.

This is the exact opposite of my mother. She is obsessed with things staying the same. To her, change is the most terrifying option. I actively cause it to happen, and when I can't cause any more change in a place, I leave, and seek something else. At least in my career choices anyway. Except for one place: Lecturing. I did not want to leave my last lecturing post. I was genuinely happy there. But I had to leave because the money and the option of moving to JHB was too great. I remember saying to my boss: "The irony is, I'm the only one here who actually wants to work here." Almost all my other conversations upon terminating my work place has been "I'm leaving because I've been offered a better job." Even today when I told my boss (again... I've resigned from him before to go off to lecture so it shouldn't have come as a surprise to either him or me), I told him I was leaving to lecture.

I think this is what is called a Vocation.

As much as I'd love to think that my vocation is directing or scriptwriting or have random sex with strangers, I have to admit the one job I've returned to again and again and again is lecturing. My mom made me laugh this evening when she said: I guess you'll have to go back to preparing lectures again... Preparing lectures? Me? Lecturing is so easy that I don't find I need to prep for them. Sure I look at what I'm supposed to teach them, and maybe make a call on which film to use to do it with, or which book to quote from. But it's done in a matter of minutes, because I can see the link. And I honestly feel, as have been told by several students (held over a heater and threatened with cause toilet sex) that I get my point across, am clear, and am engaging.

Should I be sad that I'm not going to direct the next great season of 'Egoli'? Or that perhaps my scripts are ... mildly entertaining but not genius? Or should I rejoice that I've finally pinned down one aspect of my existence that I can say: Yes this is the right fit in my great Jigsaw puzzle that is my life? I think I am. I'll get to direct small things with my students, and I'll get to write a dozen screen-plays that no one will read, but I'll get to mold my students into people who can write, who can direct, who can move into the next level of television production. And that for me seems to be enough.

The rest of my universe however is not so clear, and the jigsaw is still in pieces with most of the edge... most of the edge in place. It's just filling in the pieces now... so why does there have to be so much pink? Perhaps it's a picture of my bottom as most of my life seems to revolve around it and it's ... wow. Even I'm a little weirded out by that imagery. Hmmm.... man found freaked out by own thoughts. That doesn't happen often...

So two questions for you:

1 - Reflect a little on your habits and routines. Is there a common thread? Something that repeats or that you find yourself looping back to? Perhaps instead of pulling away from that, or fighting it, you should explore it? Who knows, you might find you like it there.

2 - Do you ever freak yourself out with your own thoughts? Suffer from a sudden head twitch as your mind throws up some idea that makes you pause for a moment to wonder where the fuck it crawled from? And perhaps feel a little guilty when you realize it crawled from inside you?

Blerg, blarg, and bugger

The Four horsemen of Unsatisfied Staff are: Miscommunication, his brother, Dis-information, their cousin Assumption, and the bastard boy known as Total Self Centered Cunt. I hate looking up and seeing the four horsemen of this particular scourge. Miscommunication is the always the first to arrive, always keen to have fun with peoples minds. But, like that annoying cousin who just never leaves after a family braai until you've packed away all the dishes, washed the cat, and put on your pajama's, and finally told to fuck off and die (and then is hurt that you said such horrid things), Assumption follows.

Assumption is the mother of All Fuck-Ups, which means that Miscommunication is a distant cousin to All Fuck-ups. Now, Miscommunication and Assumption can be banished fairly easily if you say hold a meeting that clears up Assumption like a case of 24 hour diarrhea, and with a little line of questions like who, what, how, why, when, and where, Miscommunication will leave, having gotten bored. It's when dis-information comes along that the shit starts to slide towards your desk.

Dis-information is a military term meaning - to feed the press something not totally based on actual events. It keeps the general population from panicking when the aliens land. However dis-information in the office environment is a nasty little troll. It's bosses not wanting staff to panic, or worse yet, know the true state of events. Whilst certain bosses may feel dis-information about certain impending events is good in keeping the peons from forgetting about their present work, and instead daydreaming of a future full of bonuses and freedom, if the dis-information is allowed to join the party of Assumption and Miscommunication, dis-information becomes a wonderful weapon of malcontent. Instead of the staff blissfully continuing to work, rumours, scandals, and most importantly dissent begin to spread.

The quicker staff begin to look for ways to cover themselves, and begin to furiously send out emails to prove their innocence, and shift whatever potential blame to their colleagues, aka friends. The slower staff just get worried and wonder what to do. The smokers begin smoking more furiously, meeting in nervous little clouds of lung cancer, regardless of the torrential downpour to suck one another's dirty air whilst hyperventilating about the assumed miscommunicated dis-information.

Now, all of this goes away when the boss, the leader of these neurotic shit shifters, asthmatic smoke-suckers, and dim-witted drones, holds an 'lets unpack all this into useful bits, and form a collective plan'. Most often these work. People feel relaxed, comfortable that there is some reassurance that the shit is still a long way off, and not sliding in their general direction, and that their pay-cheque is in the mail (damn that's a dated saying; it should be: that their automatic EFT is being processed).

The total fuck-up comes when the spoilt boy arrives: Total Self Centered Cunt. This little arsehole will hold a meeting to discuss the problem. Not in terms of the company, but in terms of the staff themselves. Instead of realizing that everyone at the meeting is desperately hoping that the world will continue to spin, and that all they need is a little reassurance that although tough times are ahead, things will work out, the TSCC will blame the staff for all the worlds problems. Sayings like: Productivity is down, lack of self motivation from staff, no initiative taken by staff, lack of focus, general apathy towards work, and my favorite one: chairs spinning at precisely 16:30.

So the shit shifters feel like shit because their ploy didn't work. The smoke-suckers have fresh-air panic attacks, and spend even more time smoking. The dim-witted ones wonder just how they have lost focus, when all their work is done on time, and is duly accepted. In short, the TSCC has taken all the work of his companion horsemen and tripled the trouble. A month later the shit-shifters have sent so many emails covering their trail they don't know how to maneuver, have no friends, and are feeling miserable. The smoke-suckers are all ill, suffering from break-downs, and stress induced bad health. The dim-wits are carrying all the work, and have by now begun to think that perhaps with all this new work experience if they couldn't become a shit-shifter or a smoke sucker, and so make plans, however slowly, to leave.

Then when the shit does hit the fan, everyone jumps ship. The shit-shifters have lined up work in another city, they had to, no one in their current city would accept them, the smoke-suckers are off to rehab and lung replacement, or to another smokers click somewhere, and dim-wits are no longer dim-wits, but highly skilled and valuable employees, who find placement elsewhere with ease. The boss now finds himself alone on a sinking ship, with no allies, and a stack of bills. If he's wise, he'll realize his staff - although a bunch of self-serving people (and we all are when it comes to business) were to a large degree fairly important in the running of the business. Now without them the only option is to hire new staff.

And the cycle begins again. The company doesn't grow, how can it? If you keep pruning back all the experienced leaves, and keep importing new ones, you're not growing, you are staying the same size. When I find myself in a company that is beset by the four horsemen of Unsatisfied Staff I wonder how it happened. I myself being a bit forward, and perhaps a bit loud-mouthed and vocal about issues, tend to try to raise the issue with management. I am then seen as the herald of the Four Horsemen that most companies dread the most: Staff Empowerment, Increases, Bonuses, and Honesty.

I usually get told to politely go away, and usually I then leave the company because of disillusionment. When my students, boyfriend, and at one point complete strangers pointed out to me that my wardrobe was a bit old fashioned, out dated, and sucky, I had two choices: stick with it, or change. I asked myself: was it such a bad thing to change? Could I change? Was I perhaps over looking some fundamental of fashion? I honestly ... well needed to go to a therapist and only then could I answer those questions truthfully. My fashion has changed a little, updated a little, and certain items are no longer worn.

Bosses need to have the same ability to see when something is wrong, and not blame everyone else. I had to laugh. I was sent a mail saying: When people are like sandpaper, and just grind and rough you up, remember that you'll emerge later a polished and smooth object, whilst the sandpaper will be spent and torn. I had a good laugh. The individual who'd sent it clearly had not checked to see if before sending they were the polished knob, or the shitty paper. Consensus was shitty paper.

So my beloved reader: Are you a herald of Unsatisfied Staff? A shit-shifter, a smoke sucker, or a dim-wit? And if you're the boss, are you the TSCC? Or the solution? The knob or the grit?

Me? Relax?

Well the weight has now stopped falling off. But I'm not worried. Well I am a little bit, because I'm eating nothing but birdseed and cardboard, but I had my blood pressure taken the other day and it is I am delighted to say sitting at a cool 127/74. A perfect score. This means several things or nothing: either my new eating preferences are working, or my medication is working, or both are working. I'm hoping it is the eating preferences, as this would mean I don't have chronic high blood pressure.

That's the good news. Now the bad news. Brace yourselves: I want a holiday where I can just sit and relax, and do nothing. Plan nothing. Time nothing. Just arrive and do nothing. No computers, no cellphones, just perfect stillness. I found myself the other day laying in the sun on a friends rather shoddy veranda... well it is. But laying there with the sun slowly burning my flesh just feeling the slight breeze on my cheeks was absolute bliss.

And now it seems my brain wants more. I was stuck a couple afternoons ago as a wonderful Johannesburg warm wind blasted against me, carrying the hint of rain, the sweets of jasmine, and the aroma of my irises, and I felt such peace and contentment I wanted it to last forever. So now I find my thoughts turning to a holiday where I don't plan on visiting local historical sites, or learning something new. Or spending it locked up inside a room staring at my computer screen. I want to sit down in the sun and just be.

This is something I have NEVER, let me say it again, NEVER experienced. I hate not doing something. It's boring. There are a billion things more interesting than not doing anything. I just can't think of any at the moment... sigh. I'll keep this short because well I've run out of things to throw out into the digital clouds:

Dear reader, do you from time to time find the need to get out into the sun and just exist in the moment? If so, do you do it often enough, or can you even remember when you last did it? It's the weekend. Take a moment this Sunday, find a shady spot with a sprinkle of sunlight, and just... chill man. Chill.

FAT UPDATE

So it's been a couple of weeks - about three or four I think - since I made a vow to change what I can. Well. Here's my monthly update. Don't worry, it's not going to be boring - I'll put in some jokes to make it worth your while, I promise.

Well I've now totally given up milk, added sugar, as many processed foods as possible, and consciously attempt to by low-carbohydrate content, low fat foods. I try to eat fruit as often as possible, and I'm quaffing on average three litres of water a day. As a result of giving up the milk and sugar, I've also indirectly given up coffee and tea.

What is the result of all of this cold turkey you might be asking? Well it's interesting, as far as I'm concerned. My willpower has been sorely tested, many times. September is obviously the month a large portion of the planet (western world) was born. We've had four birthdays in our office. four cakes. Did I abstain? No. Did I eat two pieces of cake like I normally do? No. I ate one slice. Man it was good.

Most food tastes so much better as a matter of fact. I suppose it's because I'm not drinking sweet tea, or eating sugar every day. when we go out, I try to look for food that has a large portion of salady stuff with it. I leave off the skin, and most of the time any additional fat. Instead of snacking on biscuits or chocolate, I eat sesame seeds, or an apple.

The other day I was shopping, and accidentally walked down the milk isle. For those of you who know me, or who knew me, I could drink about two litres of milk a day without batting an eye-lid. Now, I'm drinking 0 litres of milk. I still have a yoghurt now and then, but not to excess. So I was walking past all these bottles of fresh milk, and I had to look away, I had to force myself not to stop. It was very difficult.

Now, when I walk past sweets, biscuits and so forth, I just look at the back of the box. If it's more than 50% carbohydrate I put it back. They usually give you the values in terms of 100 grams portions, so it makes life easy to do the maths. It's amazing how many things are full of carbohydrates. But look at this little bit of info I've gathered.

the next time you tuck into a standard pasta dish, know that the bowl pasta only contains 10 - 14% less carbohydrates then a bowl of maple syrup! Isn't that a gross idea? Instead of eating the pasta, just fill the bowl with syrup and down that. It's revolting to think that in terms of how our bodies see what we're eating, there is only a slight difference between a squirt of syrup and a spoonful of pasta...

Anyway, so I haven't yet started exercising. I've been in Durban, all over, running around like a mad man. There hasn't been an opportunity. Well at this moment in time, the willpower is so bent on keeping to the eating plan, that there is little room for adding gym to the equation sadly. I suppose once the food thing becomes a habit, the gym thing is next? I have resolved to go and buy some weights... yes I know the last ones I bought were used to prop up a bed and rusted into solid blocks of pig iron, but I've got to do something right...

So in the net result is that I've dropped a few kilo's... 4 to be precise. At the beginning of this enterprise I was 118, just shy of 120 or 240 pounds! Now, I'm on 114, which is what I was before winter last year. When I drop below 110 - which will be a weight I was in 2004, I shall be very happy. My goal is to crack 100 by the end of March or April next year. That gives me six months, or roughly 2 kilograms a month. I can, and will do it.

I have to. I made a vow. Next Gay Pride... I'm not going this year, but next year ... 2011... September I'm going in a speedo. Regardless of my shape or form. It will happen, and I will I know, have not an ab-washboard from heaven, I don't yet see myself as having one of those, but certainly as someone who is say around 90 kgs, and can wear a speedo without providing his own lower abdominal shade...

Fat, Lazy, Liar, know it all...

In about twenty two days and eight hours I'll be turning 30. This scares the hell out of me. Don't roll your eyes, this isn't one of those blogs... well actually it is. Sorry. I wanted to write this last night but my leg hurt to much. Yes. My leg. I was watching Boston Legal. It's a great show. But in it, was this huge - and I mean huge fat guy. He was sueing some drug company or something. But the episode wasn't about that specifically. That was just one theme. Danny Crane was taking some drug so as to not loose his memory. He didn't like what he was becoming, and here was a fat guy who didn't like who he was. Anyway, half way through the show the chair I was... the brand new fucking chair I was one. Shattered. One moment I was quietly sitting amused watching the show, the next minute - CRACK! FUCK! THUD! FUCK! ... FUCK!.

I was on my back, and my leg - as it has unconsciously flailed outwards in the hope of not ending in a foot (as it's done for nearly thirty years) but in a hand (as it's ancient DNA code once did) - had tried to grab hold of my desk. A lovely example of wooden 1950's desk-building. The leg is now bruised. The chair is now broken. This is the second time in as many months where my weight has caused my body, my person to fall uncontrollably to the ground. I am a big, fat, person. I am rapidly getting to that 120 kilo mark. And there is nothing in sight to stop it. As a matter of fact, just the other day I was at home working, and I ate on day 1 an entire box of Romany Creams. Day 2 saw me eat 8 twinkies. Am I depressed? Do I eat because I'm depressed? I suppose so. I do know that I eat for the taste or sensation. The sweetness or the smoothness, the tartness or the crunch.

OK so he's a sad fucker lamenting that he eats to much. Deal with it bitch. Eat less. Drink more water. And that's what I hate. It is SO simple. That's all I need to do. But then I got reflective, as I lay in bed last night. What do I dislike about myself. These are the points I came up with:

1 - Overweight

2 - Liar

3 - Financially inept

4 - No self control

5 - Unfit (different from being overweight imo)

6 - Being a know-it-all

7 - Not speaking my mind

8 - Not standing up for myself

These are basically the eight points that I don't like about myself. I haven't included not being able to play the violin, being afraid of snakes etc. As I feel that is next decades problem. If I am turning 30 in so few days I need to know that I'm going to want to continue into the 30's. The 20's have been one hell of a roller-coaster.

If I'd known what they were going to have in store... America, accepting my sexuality, coming out to everyone, having sex, moving to JHB, lecturing, starting a career, finding debt, buying a car, getting so drunk I wanted to die... it has been one amazing ride. And yet, when you boil it down, it really just has to do with accepting who I am.

So if the 20's are for accepting who I am, perhaps the 30's should be for restructuring who I am. Now that I roughly know my inner being, it's time to change the bad points. That is what my 30's are for. My 40's perhaps will be where I set up myself for getting older. The 50's, more of the 40's. The 60's, more of the 50's. The 70's, more of the 60's. The 80's - perhaps I'll have a little time to relax. But I like this game plan. I haven't had one before - apart from living to 121 so I can win a bet. But I haven't had a personal plan to achieve it. Now I do. I suspect I'll revise this blog in about eight or nine years when I'm facing 40.

Is 10 years too long though? Am I going too slowly? I don't think so. You see the first couple years - say 2 years you're trying to identify just how to change things. It takes time to effectively alter the previous 10 years of thought. Then after 2 years, you now know what you need to change. So you work on the change. But after another 2 years, you achieve your goal, only to discover that that was the tip of the ice-berg. Then you spend another 4 years in this kind of morphic limbo, finding, checking, correcting one's self. That leaves you with 2 years to relax, enjoy who you are, and find out that in a years time, you'll enter another decade, and another round.

When will I have time to have fun? All the time. The things I've listed can all be changed with fairly little impact to my world. I'm fat. So I need to eat less, cut out milk, and go to gym. But I also need to be financially stable. So that may mean cutting back on stuff at the house. Less internet time and more personal time for myself. Why should I accept hollow, digital victories when I could be accepting real victories on this planet. When I die, I don't think the great scales of worth will judge - lost 180000000 matches of Starcraft 2 to a 13 year old Korean. Right in you go. I think God's online gaming team wants better...

So I know most of my friends are staring at 30 or 40 coming up. Have you needed to change yourself? Have you needed to accept something about yourself? Or are you fucking perfect, without hang-up and the world is just peachy? Do other people out there have the same issues I do? Do you dislike/hate/loathe something about yourself and yet not ever get around to fixing it? Why not? What's so important that you can't be bothered to make your own world better by fixing yourself? Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go look at the milk in the fridge for a while, and have a little cry that it's silky, smooth, creamy, taste is something that I need to go without for a while... say the next 90 years or so...