Sick and Tired of Being Sick and Tired

I am so bored at work. Yes, I said it. I feel like I am wasting my talents sitting at this desk every day doing pretty pointless stuff.

The only thing that keeps me going is the promise of a paycheck. With my money I can pay rent, I can treat myself to nice things like clothes and shoes, and I can save for the rainy day.

I would like to be elsewhere. My dreams have varied during my lifetime, but usually they’ve had something to do with performing; my first dream job was to become a model, but I never grew tall and skinny and pretty.

I visited the UN building in New York at 16 and decided I wanted a career within this NGO. I dreamed of managing public health projects in small communities in Africa. I eventually went to university to study social sciences in the hopes of becoming a UN official.

Dream tattered after a semi-pointless degree that only took me as far as enabling me to get an admin role at an insurance company, I started re-thinking about what I could do. I realized I’d want to be a news anchor or a foreign correspondent, and enrolled on a Master’s course in Broadcasting.

A year of struggling through a tough course, and multiple bank loans later I found myself having to find yet another office job because I couldn’t even get an unpaid internship in TV. I labored for a year in a secretarial role until it made me sick to my stomach, and I left. I just quit my job and moved to Africa.

My four months in East Africa were unreal – I felt alive for the first time in my life; nature, work, people…everything was so … tangible and colorful and I could really feel that I was living inside my body.

I went jogging in the evening on the red hills and watched the sun set over the mountains, I partied like there was no tomorrow and danced my ass off every weekend at the local clubs, and I met so many people, did awesome things and saw a lot of that part of the world during my weekend excursions.

I remember sitting on a rocky beach in Kenya every evening for a week, watching the waves come in and enjoying the sight of pink clouds and setting sun against the backdrop of the Indian Ocean. The smell of the sea is intoxicating, and the slight breeze makes you feel alive. I will never ever forget the memories, and even today whenever I am really upset I try to go back to that moment, feeling the rocks with my hands and watching the crabs scatter whenever a bird flew by.

The moments that have been vividly painted into the canvas of my mind are few, but very powerful. Kenya for sure, but also Barbados, the US, and Finland.

I will never forget the moment when I was floating in the sea in Barbados in 2006 when the sun was shining, I felt warm and supported by the ocean water, and all I could hear was kids’ noises as they played in the sand. Or 2002, San Francisco, walking up and down the hilly streets in the spring sun, and ending up by the Golden Gate park where I sat on the bench and watched the world go by.

Or when I was young and I had a pony, and I would rush home from school and take him out for long rides in the woods around the house, and he’d gallop on an open field with me hanging on to his thick mane, screaming with joy.

I used to sing to him too. Talk even. We were best friends, and in his company I felt safe, like nothing could hurt me. He was my world and when he dies, so did a very big part of me. I am not quite sure I ever gained that part back, but sometimes when I walk on a dark quiet street I imagine hearing the faint sound clip clop behind me, and I think of my pony who must have gone to heaven and assigned as my guardian angel and now he watches over me when I walk alone in this world.

I think he’d want me to keep going. He’d want me to chase my dreams and keep smiling. I know this is so silly and childish, but I do think that he was sent to me to make my life a little bit better considering the circumstances, and no matter how many years go by from his death, the memory of his beautiful brown eyes makes me sad, but happy at the same time as knowing him was like knowing what unconditional love is like, and I’ll never forget that.

The memory of his love gives me hope. It is what keeps me grounded, and I am fairly certain now that I can do things I never thought I could. I just need to take that leap of faith and chase my dreams…Like R Kelly sang, “I believe I can fly, I believe I can touch the sky. I think about it every night and day…Spread my wings and fly away.”

 

Have a very blessed day xxx And don’t forget to dream.

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