Posts Tagged ‘Ambition’

Me in 5 Years?

I actually picked up 20p off the floor today. It’s come to that.

Before you judge me, let it be known I gave it a hand sanitiser bath before popping it into my purse next to that losing lottery ticket I couldn’t quite bring myself to throw away.

Who knew you can’t get a loan for a Masters? Not me. Hats off to NatWest really for allowing me an overdraft the size of Brazil. Not that I’m worried about it or anything, I love a good challenge, and digging my self out of that one, is going to be just that.

I remember earning some money somewhere along the way, but since the only thing I ever invested in was my feet, we’re back to square one. My maths is rusty at best, so correct me if I’m wrong, but with the help of my blackberry’s calculator I worked out that over the years, I’ve spent approximately £3000 on shoes.

My next pair perhaps?

Now, I didn’t want to have to whip out the finger of blame, but I’m convinced that my parents have been encouraging this unfortunate obsession on the basis that without savings I’d be forced to live with them until the age of 35.

To any other culture this would seem an inprobable explanation, but us Greeks like our kids where we can see them. Where we can ensure they are eating four square meals a day, and only bringing home acceptable suitors (wealthy bankers who grown their own tomato plants and are in possession of a stereotypically Mediterranean  long baby finger nail).

“Love grows” my Grandma tells me, “what you need is stability”. They may as well give up this pretence of happiness altogether and nudge me down the aisle, to Abba’s Money Money Money proving my fellow students right once and for all.

I should elaborate. Way back when in sixth form, I had been voted “Most Likely To Marry For Money”. I personally don’t know where they got such an idea.

Yes I’d like to be rich, who wouldn’t? (Walk in wardrobe’s don’t build themselves you know). And yes it’s probably going to take me a while (because as I’ve discovered, working in the media industry involves a lot of working for free). And okay, if I were the “sleep your way to the top” type of girl I’d probably get there a lot faster. But damn it my morals are always getting in the way of an easy life.

So until success busts a groove over to my ends, London keep dropping those 20p’s and I’ll keep picking them up. And one day, when I can spare them, perhaps I’ll drop a few back.

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How To Be Happy.

I took an online optimism quiz the other day which informed me I am a pessimist (as if I needed a quiz to tell me that).

What threw me off was the little encouraging note at the bottom of the page saying “don’t worry you can change!” Never a good sign when you’re computer starts giving you life advice is it? I am only left to wonder if the subsequent pop up I received 30 seconds later entitled “stress management” was a coincidence.

I remembered someone once told me, if you smile for one minute every morning, it tricks your body into releasing happy endorphins into your body and in turn makes you happier.

Having been struck down with a momentary bout of optimism (and wanting to put my computer in its place) I decided to attempt a one-week trial. And it seemed to work well enough until one morning I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, un-brushed teeth, frizzy hair, pink fluffy bathrobe and a Cheshire cat smile. I looked insane (a look I’ll admit I’m not totally unfamiliar with, but not one I’d ever want to be optionally submitted to again).

In fact I’m convinced the person who came up with this theory worked as a secret spy for crème-de-la-mer or Olay and whose job is to provoke the production of deep-set wrinkles. The only thing better than unhappy women, are unhappy women wanting to spend a fortune in eradicating their new smile lines.

Someone else once informed me eating a chocolate bar a day helps with inner happiness. Their explanation involved something or other about neurotransmitters and mood levels influenced by chocolate, I phased out almost immediately, they’d sold me at ‘chocolate’. Come on now, using chocolate as a mood elevator, yes please, what next, fudge cake for toothache? Because you can sign me up for that trial too.

And while the Mars bar solution to life made me happy for a while, the subsequent £100 gym fee I had to pay so I could fit into my jeans again did not make me happy at all. In fact the opposite, I wanted to find the person whose great idea this was and ram an airport sized Toblerone down their throat. Somehow, I refrained.

Then, upon my quest for permanent happiness, I stumbled upon this thing called optimism; rumour has it, it does wonders for the heart. So if you happen to be a glass half empty kind of person, take note:

If someone knocks off your wing mirror on the way to work, the world isn’t against you, you just happened to cross the path of moron. You go on a bad date… you’re not going to end up a spinster and this isn’t a sign that you should stop wearing makeup and shaving your legs- you simply need to think of it as one frog closer to your prince. You’re best friend hasn’t returned your call in three days and your convinced he’s found someone less mentally imbalanced to watch Match of the Day with? No, he just has the memory of a goldfish.

Why none of this had ever occurred to me before, I’m not quite sure. Forget mood elevators and Jack Daniels, the solution to all of life’s problems is a lot of optimism with a pinch of denial.

However before we get too ahead of ourselves with all this glass-half-full business, I’d like to make a point that a little cynicism never did go completely amiss. Floating away on a little bubble of optimism just sets you up for disappointment: and that if you ask me (which I think you should), is the worst kind of unhappiness.

The best way to live is with a lot of ambition, and not too many expectations. And while apparently money can’t buy you happiness, as a lover of high shoes and fast cars, I’d tend to disagree. But for those less materialistic seekers of joy I suggest you wake up every day, and aim to do at least one thing that is guaranteed to make you happy; be it eating 4 custard doughnuts in a row or listening to David Guetta’s new tune twenty times in row – because everyone knows butchering is a song is the only way to show your love for it.

But whatever it is you do that makes you happy, for goodness sake don’t smile too much, because those wrinkle creams do not work at all.

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