Unapologetically Pink

Things will always go wrong. FACT!

But I fundamentally believe that the size of a problem depends on the way in which we respond to it. A few things that happened to me this week:

1. After a twelve hour day of studying and numeracy practice on Thursday, I went to bed at 10:30pm. I was so excited: I was going to get a full eight hours sleep before my Friday morning run. Then the firebell went off at 11:00pm. And kept ringing until 11:45pm. (Note: they usually turn off in a few minutes. It had never been this long before.)
2. Somewhat tired on Friday from the interruptions of Thursday night, I took a midday nap. For fifteen minutes. JUST fifteen minutes. What went wrong here? The firebell went off. Again! Twice in two days. It has never gone off this frequently before.
3. Friday evening. I was cold, so I put on my newly washed beautiful cream jumper from Sri Lanka. (I’d had to clean it because of a stain, and hence be without it while it was drying.) I made dinner and ate it watching Friends. What did I do? I promptly got ketchup on the sweater!

Learning to giggle when things go pearshaped is a huge accomplishment. The problem is always halved: because the bad mood that our reactions create is half of the difficulty.

Thursday evening … I grumbled, I glared, I cursed and I moaned. Friday lunch time, I made a wry smile. Friday evening: I laughed.

I went home for the weekend and enjoyed every minute of the comfort and familiarity I find when surrounded by my family.

I had a ‘blip’ on Sunday, though. Not wanting to come back to the pressures of job applications and numeracy refresher books, I got upset at the prospect of leaving home. My Mum saved me with gentle words and sound advice.

Today I received a handwritten letter from my wonderful friend Jo, updating me on her pregnancy, and signed with the declaration of “love you loads”.

I think I would be truly lost without such unconditional support. Whether the people who care are family, friends, colleagues or teachers … seek them out. Their love will raise you up like nothing else can.

I auditioned for the Oxford salsa team on Saturday, but didn’t get through.

I had really wanted to make it. I came home to the comforting arms of Cem and Tim. We watched the X Factor, I had too much pizza. I napped, feeling very ill from the food.

I woke up and remembered something that one of the audition girls had said. Her name was Mandi, and she was Sri Lankan – she had seen me in Sri Lanka in summer! She had asked if I was going to a salsa night that was on.

Something in me changed; I decided that I was better than this. I phoned Mandi. “WAIT for me!” I said. “I’m coming with you.”

That night, I partied with the people who had made the team. The people who beat me. It wasn’t self-sabotage: I had SUCH a good time. We danced and danced and danced, I was spun around and around and around. A lot of laughter, a lot of fun. Great people.

They say, “if you can’t beat them, join them”. I didn’t regret it.

My dear Cem was ill today, so I ran alone for the first time.

The jog was nothing short of invigorating. The cold has really set in now, so I was almost the only one awake and outside. I reached the parks and discovered that a frost had fallen! It was beautiful, serene … beautifully serene. The world felt silent, though my iPod accompanied me. “Still”, perhaps, would be a better word. Walking and running, running and walking, the immense parks seemed to open out before me. I ran through an orange sunrise. The earth seemed to bask in its newfound warmth.

It was cold, it was fresh, I felt breathless and fit and alive.

Then … I got lost! Yes, my dear Cem, I really do need you with me. How I could quite lose myself in the parks I don’t know. It wasn’t that bad – I just came out a different entrance, but it did take a few wrong turns before I came across a familiar road.

Oxford is tiny you’ll tell me: yes, and I’m rubbish with directions, no matter what.