Shattering the glass ceiling

Hello All, 

And so the moment has finally come. No not the lockdown ending (although I won't lie, that is certainly peaking my mood), no not the fact I am less than a day from my pork scratching advent calendar and no not the fact that I am less than a few days away from seeing my nail lady for my Christmas inspired tallons. No. Now is the moment we discuss moving on ... 

Arriving at work, it suddenly hit me that this was it. There were no second chances and that once it was done there was no turning back. Up until getting out of my car that crisp Tuesday morning last week it hadn't even really seemed real. But now it was very real. The next time I stepped into my car the dynamics would have shifted and all would have been laid bare. I was nervous. Trying to think of the perfect moment was awful. I mean I had some time to think since it had nearly been a fortnight. Nevertheless, I thought I would let management grab a coffee and settle into emails before telling them my news. 

But then started the normal morning rush and before I knew it lunchtime was upon us. After telling a few close colleagues I knew I had to seize the moment and if not now then when. And so, alone in a quiet meeting room I slid the white envelope across the desks (you know COVID-safe and all). Smiling, my manager asked what it was. I explained as best I could without taking up any more of his valuable time although I felt as though I was rambling and not really making much sense. I blathered on about this and that but when it really came down to it, what was there in his hands was quite simply the final nail in the coffin. My resignation. 

I joined the company over four years ago and in that time life had changed immeasurably. I had got Clifford, my big red car after my beloved Vivienne was written off. I have gotten engaged and planned a wedding. I got my best ever freebie, my little pup Frankenstein. I even managed to get myself on the property ladder after years of wondering and dreaming about if it will ever happen. Yes, there had been many a happy time shared amongst my office space and colleagues. However, in recent months and even going back as far as last year, I have not been happy. 

Standing there in a silent meeting room with my manager I explained that it was a decision I had made not lightly, given the situation the team would be left in and considering the pandemic. But I knew in my heart of hearts that now the wheels were in motion I couldn't turn back now. Who knew that walking through those doors all those many moons ago that I would not only acquire the skills for dealing with difficult customers and colleagues but also that I would learn things about myself, my values and my value to others. 

I never expected that I would get a taste for anything more than just a job to pass time and fill up the years before I settled down to have children. I know now that I want more than that for myself and my future. I want to have a job my children can be proud of, doing something that I am good at with people whom I enjoy being around. But there is more to life and I needed to spread my wings and fly off for a new adventure. 

So where am I going and what is next?! Well, following a successful interview I had a phone call one Friday morning before I started work. Switching on the grinding coffee machine in the office kitchen I listened to the voice at the end of the phone tell me the news I had been hoping for. I had bagged the job. But which one? I remembered interviewing for the job, but couldn't find anything on my emails as I desperately scanned through. The lady explained she would send everything over and looked forward to working with me soon. 

The following week I finally received all the finalised paperwork, information and new starter forms. Working normal office hours I will instead be heading in the opposite direction to the other half in the mornings come the new year and into the hustle and bustle of Milton Keynes. Along with the normal benefits package the offices are super easy to get to and is right by the lake, so the "healthy-me" is thinking it would be a great idea to invest in a bike or for a walk or maybe even a run (haha) around the lake maybe two or three times a week. The "fat-me" thinks about all the amazing places I can order food from in the city and how it will be delivered to me by a man on a bike or even better - A robo-delivery-box-a-mijig! 

To say I am excited is putting it softly, but despite my enthusiasm, my heart still aches for my situation and the reasons which have lead me to where I am now. I hope that one day I can talk openly about them, however as most of you know who have been reading along for a while now (can you believe it has been nearly TEN YEARS!) I don't talk about work or employment and keep them and blog very distance. 

And so I suppose this is probably the most honest or open I have ever been about my work-life, but with the next few weeks until Christmas laying ahead of me, things are changing all the time and who knows what curveball or spanner will be thrown into the cogs of my life next ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Fear is interest paid on a debt you might not owe

 Evening All, 

And so it has happened. I mean it is not like I knew it wouldn't, it is written into my contract. It is pretty unlikely that things would not have gone back to more of a normality, or whatever this new bullshit is now especially since shops are now open not to mention the restaraunts and pubs as mentioned last week. But as I sat in the hairdressers today on my day off, scrolling through my social media pages, flooded with back to school pictures, the anxiety I felt peaked. Why? Because tomorrow is my first day back in the office.

Week number seventeen and whilst the virus has no end in sight yet, we are being told from media outlets and Government alike to 'Get back to work'. On 17 July, Boris Johnson announced that from 1 August the Government’s advice for England on going to work would be changing and instead of telling people to work from home where possible and if they can to contain and cntrol the virus, employers were given more discretion and in turn asked the country to return to work safely. Workplaces up and down the country started to make decisions about how staff can work in a clean and COVID-secure enviroment. 

"Whatever employers decide, they should consult closely with their employees, and only ask people to return to their place of work if it is safe" said the Prime Minister. However, on 31 July following some local outbreak of the Coronavirus in the Midlands and North West, the postponement of some planned lockdown easing in England had to be halted and ergo the 'Back to work' chants. Since then the Government have updated the 'Working safely during coronavirus' guidance, but with the changes to the relaxation of restrictions and the potential for regional restrictions to be put in place should a spike appear continuing, is it sensible for businesses to consider beinging staff back, even on a part time basis? Everyone will need to have the capability to move quickly from one scenario to another as local lockdowns and quarratining from foreign countries changes by a daily, sometimes hourly even basis. 

This virus is still out there and figures from the BBC released today (Monday 07 September 2020) confirm that whilst the number of new cases of coronavirus is continuing to rise, the death rate is just 3 in the last 24-hour period; A stark cry from the blog post I wrote my first few weeks working from home in late March when the figure was already at over 1,400 which has already been dwarfed by the 41,500 deaths the nation has seen and it is still being added to. Prime Minister Boris Johnson had yet to update us since the 23rd of March with the rolling news and science or the growing number of deaths or what it would mean for Mr.  Warehouse and I as a family and all of the summer fun and activities and parties we would miss out on not only then but looking forward to the rest of the year also; Halloween, my birthday, Christmas, Christmas parties, New Years Eve and not to mention the effing wedding. This being said, however, his strict curb on life in the UK to tackle the spread of COVID-19 Coronavirus has certainly shaken things up 

I spoke right at the beginning of all of this madness stating that whilst the last few weeks in the run-up to the UK's lockdown had been strange, the whole working from home situation had started off feeling odd. Slowly getting better as the days turned to weeks and weeks turned into months I became more and more settled. I had my own little morning routine and even during my lunch half-hour and breaks I would occupy myself with putting the washing on, cleaning or sticking the dishwasher on. I have enjoyed my time working at home all in the knowledge that I could organise a oven clean or some workmen to come round and I would be in. I could order something and know I could open the door to receieve it myself. I could look after the dogs and have cuddles whenever I wanted. It was bliss. 

I, like many workers will be concerned and anxious about even the prospect of being in the workplace. Thankfully I dont have to worry too much about travelling there and back as I don't have to use public transport. But alas it had to come to an end at some point I suppose. Now some of you may already be feeling this way and will want to know that your company or  organisation is retaining the support for physical and mental health as well as its current thinking about flexible and remote working both for now and for the future. Now whilst I accept that we all need to start getting back to our (post-apocolyptic it seems sometimes) new normal, discussions about returning to the workplace, be it a shop, bar or office should be at the heart of any decisions and plans that business makes and every effort should be made to make sure people feel safe and secure in an enviroment they spend more time at than at home, at least pre-COVID. However this is something I feel people aren't talking about not nearly enough. 

The last time I stepped into that office was back in May 2020, before summer, before heatwaves and before any thoughts about postponing the wedding. Even then I only went in to collect a few things from my desk to make it easier to work from home, or WFH as some people are now referring to it. And even before that optional visit it was back in March before lockdown when we were all back, crowding round the doughnuts someone had brought in or queuing for the coffee machine. But I have been assured it is safe with weird heat detection systems, air-cirulation units and socially distanced desks, I am sure it will be, but the communication out is a little sparse for my likling and I cannot, at the moment at least, hold my hand on my heart and say I feel confident and safe returning to work just yet. 

Despite all of this and how tiresome I and many others are finding this lockdown crap, regardless of its "easing", I am glad to just be getting some sort of news and clarity on what the future may look like, even if it is just up until the end of the year. But things are not over and to say that I am scared, anxious, worried, daunted and generally overwhelmed by the whole experiance now as I write to you all less than twelve-hours to go, is an understatement but I know it is for the best and hopefully it wont be so bad ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Glimmer of Hope or The Crack of Lightning

Evening Everyone, 

So with work starting to get along in the flat, not by Mr. Warehouse and I pulling our finger out and doing some DIY but by our Landlord, whom whilst slightly slow at getting anything done quickly is now in the process of remodelling the kitchen and bathroom so that we have brand new tiles and flooring, although the job maybe left with much to desire as the bare minimum has been done with what was originally discussed and needed doing. 

I suppose with the constant reminder of how crappy our situation is in terms of not having the capacity to just do it ourselves and get it fixed how we want it and when we want it without having the worry of workmen coming in and out as they please and potentially being left unattended in our home seems to have maybe worked its magic. Either that or someone is teasing me bad. With my mood cloudy and stormy of late and certainly not feeling myself at all, the good new that I have been striving hard for may have potentially paid off. 

Last week whilst at work I had a phone call. As it was near lunchtime I decided to take the call and eat lunch on the go outside in the sunshine. Trying to avoid the falling Blossoms I sat and listened to what the gentlemanly voice said on the other end of the line. He was calling from a very well-known Mortgage Adviser's in England and was explaining about a company that has recently released what was called a no deposit scheme. In the most basic of terms it means that we can borrow 100% of the value for our first home. As it has taken me nearly nine months to save just under £2,000 I was certainly appreciative of the phone call. But surely there would be a few hoops to jump through and something that would catch me out that would take it away from me. It just simply can't be that easy when I have been working and trying so hard to find somewhere or a way of being able to afford to buy. 

The Mortgage Adviser explained as I already knew that products like this did not come onto the market very often and even when they did, they always came with a weird or wonderful loophole meaning that it would not be possible for myself for Mr Warehouse to apply. Questioning it I thought that it might be too good to be true and so took some details and made a date to call him back when I had more time to go through it all. Again I had my questions answered with honesty and integrity from my Mortgage Adviser. Allowing myself for a second to believe that this might be the beginning of my house owning a journey I went through a few preliminary questions in order to get what is now known as a Mortgage In Principle / MIP. Mr Warehouse and I had been applying to probably ten or twelve different Mortgage Adviser's and companies over the last 18-months, so answering questions about our debt and outstanding monies owed was certainly not issue. With our Mortgage In Principle in hand I looked no further and immediately spent the rest of my lunch break calling up estate agents and housing associations looking for any properties that might be within our budget. 

So far Mr Warehouse and I have seen just one property and that was offered to another person due to the fact that they had the premium bond that was slapped on top of the asking price in the bank and ready in cash essentially. As frustrating as it was to let go of a property we could not afford nor have was hard. I think that however in the long run this would have been a better outcome due to the fact that we would not have wanted three bedrooms, nor would we have probably wanted the longer commute or indeed somewhere that we had seen only once and especially with the first property we had seen. As gorgeous and as perfect as it was it was definitely a good choice to not go with the first place we saw. 

Now I am not going to lie and say that it was easy nor in fact that it has been fully confirmed yet that we can buy, but one thing is for certain and that is that there appears to be a silver lining to be otherwise cloud that hangs over me. Over the last couple of weeks I have felt slightly more sunnier and I am solely holding the housing situation as fully responsible for making me smile more. I wouldn't say that I was fully back there and recovered as whilst getting a Mortgage In Principle is a big deal it certainly won't make up for some of the other issues that I have going on in my life at the moment. With me struggling to shift this darkness, I have sought to find some help in the form of a therapist or counselling again.

As frustrating as it is I attempted to go through the normal avenues of the NHS and waiting for doctor's to confirm my mental health and a diagnosis and then a referral and blah blah blah. That was until my workplace stepped in and with several different people's input and help over the last week or two I have been able to hopefully secure myself with a counsellor or a therapist, fingers crossed starting this week or next. I really think that therapy and counselling will help me as it did last time. I just need to focus and concentrate hard on me and not others and hopefully one day I can learn to deal in the cards that I have been dealt. Who knows maybe I'll win ...

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

The Night Of Lola The Showgirl!

Hello!

Another long week over and done with I was certainly more than happy that it was finally payday. It felt as though February had been a lot longer of a month than the payday between Christmas and the end of January. Maybe it was the fact that all of my money was ploughed into a savings account ISA in order to desperately try and save for a house in order to move out before Christmas this year. This, coupled with the fact that my weight has now started to slow down after losing so much over Christmas and New Year despite all the personal training sessions and gym visits has all in all left me feeling slightly deflated. With no holiday to look forward to this year and very little planned in the calendar I was certainly struggling with my motivation for losing weight and saving for my first home!

Deciding that I was not going to spend another month not going out and being a complete antisocial recluse, I organised a works night out. Following the works Christmas party and how much fun it was, not to mention just how messy it ended up, I was certain that a good old-fashioned night out to paint the town red! On sending the email out to my colleague I eagerly awaited their response. But nothing came, only a few replies on how some people were not able to make it. There were a few suggestions that involved team activities that were not alcohol related but on trying to obtain numbers no one seemed to care. So it seemed up until last minute it was just me and a couple of the girls going out for a quiet drink and maybe a dance. 

Heading for some pre-drinks round one of the girls house's, gossipping away about music and the likes, trying to decided on what pair of shoes goes with what dress and whether anyone can see our VPL - Visible Panty Line. Frosty air nipping at our legs we were finally in a pub keeping warm and refreshed with some Prosecco or two. Later on the music started to pump and in between scrolling though social media and nattering over the tunes there would be a Selfie or two. Unfortunately none of us out saw the arrogant twat walking towards us like some sort of Andy Warhol. Dressed in an overly tight top that saw the blood supply cut off to his exterior limbs, he waltzed over to our table and failing to introduce himself like a true gent (or to be honest anyone with any ounce of dignity or respect) and practically snatched my Smart phone out of my hand in order to "help" us clearly failing and weak women take a Selfie. 

Five minutes he was still there and despite our efforts to move him along politely we had given up and lost our patience with him and his poxy photography skills fast. Insulting him as only women know how to by emasculating the little toe-rag he eventually got the picture and pissed off, leaving my phone back in my safe hands and with a dozen or so badly taken and blurred images of three women on the Razz. 

Carrying on throughout the night we were joined by some other work colleagues whom were also on a night out with some of their friends, joining together in a drunken stupor I felt like the fifth wheel in all of this. Not wanting to interrupt anyone's conversation and boring of looking at my phone I went off in search of some company. Male was my choice preferably as they were normally more friendly and usually happy to see anyone of the female variety taking an interest, even a Hepher like me! Or so I thought. The first lad I made conversation with was tall with light brown curly hair in what the kids on the street call a "Meet Me At McDonalds" Haircut. Wearing a dusty blue grey jumper and being typically British I mentioned how cold it was and we struck up a chat which eventually lead to him asking for my number. Before I even had a chance to turn around and run back to my friends or tell him I had a boyfriend I was thrust a phone and asked to put in my number. When I handed it back and said I had done it, I was promptly told that this was not true as Mr. Meet-Me-At-McDonalds-Haircut had been watching me the whole time and I had not given my number. "Persistent I'll give him that" I thought as I typed a random number into my phone and saved it under 'Lola' - And yes she was a showgirl! 

Heading off from one public house to the next I found myself in the wallet-sucking auction room and whilst its nice atmosphere, relatively good music and nice cocktails are always welcome in my books, the price you pay for a dribble of Blossom Hill White Zinfandel (my fave) you could walk up the road to the corner shop and buy a whole bottle and still have change. Separated from my work buds I made some new ones with a guy who was sat alone and looking melancholy. Striking up conversation in probably the most intoxicated way possible whereby I thrust my hand out and introduced myself. The gentleman obliged and we got chatting, later on his friends joined and I got talking to some more guys and they asked if I was single. "Wow two lots of guys in one night?! Surely this cant be happening? They must all have that 'Shallow Hal' thing going on!" I pondered. Laughing it off I found my friends and I danced the rest of the night away without many cares in the world apart from having a good time. 

I never knew that I would have been so popular with the lads. I mean granted I did make the first move in terms of walking over for a chat and introducing myself in a proper way as opposed to our All-Muscle-No-Brains "Photographer" earlier in the evening. Being the size I am (UK Size 18/20) I would have thought that men would have turned the other way, ignored me or worse made a joke but in actual fact I think they were just pleased for the attention and the fact that someone was maybe interested in talking to them for a change and not them having to do all the chasing, not that that was what I was after. I kinda feel sorry for lads sometimes as they are damned if they do and damned if they don't in many a moral dilemma, especially when it comes to dating and anything concerned with the opposite sex. 

Now I know some people may criticise me and ask why I did all those things on Friday night when I had a perfectly good-to-me boyfriend sat at home. The thing is that I did not intend to go out with the intention of pulling, cheating or handing out myself like sweeties. I have respect for myself regardless of when I am in or out of a relationship. I know how to conduct myself and am confident in the situations I put myself in. If I wanted to cheat I could and would have done it months if not years ago. But I didn't and don't. Why? Because Mr. Warehouse and I have a strong relationship which means he can go out, chat with other girls, dance with other girls and even mildly flirt with them if he so wishes just as I can and did on Friday night, but the difference between us and other couples is that we trust each other and that each night one or both of us goes out on the piss, we know we're coming home to something much, much more special, meaningful and precious than some twenty-something in "Da Club"!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Greener Grass and Flecks of Gold

Evening All, 

Only a week after payday I really wondered how I was so poor. I did not have to look far though as my bank balance for our new house fund was slowly growing. Soon I hoped that I would see that little comma appear proving that I was doing the right thing by saving all my pennies but I never knew how stressful and broke it would make me feel knowing I have money but it is tied up and away. Now don't get me wrong I knew that this would not be an easy journey, saving every scrap of money that both me and Mr Warehouse have between us was certainly going to be a struggle especially when I am giving up on my summer holiday this year with Mr. Warehouse, something that makes me deeply sad and frustrated for this was going to be the year that we were going to have a blowout holiday were by the head off somewhere hot by the beach relaxing for a week or two. 

Anyway enough with the same old same old, and back to the good old good old. That's right, after far far too long apart, me, Miss Hackney and Miss Sugarcoat along with her latest Beau met in a local eatery for some Mexican food and what I hoped would be a change to the normal schedule of shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots! It had been a long time since I saw them and it felt like I was going back to something familiar. I enjoy their company separately with Miss Hackney's laughter and down to earth approach mixed in with some gritty tales of the dating game (some more horrific and hilarious than mine I might add) and Miss Sugarcoat's intellectual conversation and ideas on life along with the added spice of strong controversial opinions (some of which I back entirely and some I try to hide from and pretend she is not with me), yet together we seem to create so much noise that it is sometimes hard to hear myself think. 

Harping back to the good old times in which we used to fart around in the office not doing much work or course, we reminisced well into the evening and chatted about life as we know it now with our new relationships, friendships and jobs. I had so much to tell them as they had for me although I felt that we were all talking over each other and that the noisy restaurant did not help. Both Miss Hackney and Miss Sugarcoat seemed to have developed and carved out good careers for themselves, expanding on their talents and skills in order to obtain well paying jobs. This left me slightly questioning if I ever made the right decision moving, even though I knew in my heart that's a good decision was made. OK so I am not earning £35,000 working for a plumbing and heating company and I am also not spending my evenings and weekends attending events that I am hosting in aid of cosmetic beauty. Am I happy I jumped ship? Yes certainly and with everything that has happened in the last year and a half I think I have a fairly good deal where I am at the moment especially given the pay, ever-growing relationships both in and outside of the office as well as the fact that I now have a similar relationship with my engineers as I had before with my old ones. 

As the shots kept coming I knew that my hopes of a quiet and sophisticated chat over dinner would not be the case this evening. Maybe another night I thought. Maybe a quiet evening in with a bottle or two and a comfy sofa to put the world to rights would be just what we all needed to calm down a bit for the atmosphere of a busy restaurant on a Friday night and then a loud pub with DJ were probably not the ideal places to share stories from the last eighteen months or so since I left. This was not to say that I was not enjoying myself knocking back shots of tequila whilst sipping on Prosecco, trying to keep an ounce of classy about the evening of course. As we rambled through the evening, drinking more and chatting less I was enjoying myself but in a different kind of way that I was used to and an alternative way I would if I was with my current work colleagues. 

I suppose in the grand old scheme of things that this is the big difference between my old workplace and where I work now. The majority of the time that I spent with my old work colleagues was getting drunk and talking about shite. That is not to say that given a problem or issue I was experiencing I could not talk to my old work colleagues and looking back on my time there I got some brilliant advice from some amazing people who I would like to consider even now as friends despite not talking in quite some time. A night out on the tiles now consists of going round to someone else to pre-drinking in a sophisticated fashion all whilst helping each other to get dressed and gossipping as women do, then heading into town for a nice meal and some cocktails afterwards. And whilst I don't feel like I have achieved that level of conversation with anyone of my current work colleagues at this moment in time, that is not to say that if something was bugging me or I needed to talk to someone that I would have no one to talk openly to as I am sure that there would be plenty of people to offer a sympathetic ear - I hope at least. 

Nevertheless my Friday evening spent with my old work colleagues or certainly a laugh and certainly something that we will make sure not to leave so long again. Isn't it funny I thought to myself and as I later tried to explain to Man-Brain Mr. Warehouse - You spend a good majority of your life working and those people you work with, if you are close, know everything about you and your life as you do about them and theirs. From Monday to Friday, Nine 'til Five you spill your guts about how your feeling and what happened at home or over the weekend. The kids, the other-half, the house, the in-laws and everything and everyone in between. You get to know their social networks and circles without ever actually meeting them and are able to provide comfort and warmth in a time of need. They know your relationships better than maybe you do yourself and can even offer advise that could change everything. With the staples and cellotape and paperclips galore they help you as much as you help them in times of joy, sorrow, support and laughter, colleagues like mine at my old job were like literal tiny flecks of gold dust, blowing into your life five-days-a-week. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Still Got It!

Evening, 

So following last week's incident with the house fire I was adamant to get back to some sort of normality before the final  few days before the Christmas rush hit. By this time of the year I wanted to be settled with everything bought and ideally wrapped, sacks and bags ready to go with a plan for the big day on where we were spending it and who with, not to mention to be spending our first morning waking up in our new home for the festive period and maybe even hosting some people over the holidays. But alas, here I was trying to juggle visits from the Landlord in between going to work, calling insurance companies and that's without even making a start on the wrapping or the ninety-odd Christmas Card I have to write this year. But with it all nearly over and done with, insurance settled and the necessities done away with I can finally start to enjoy what I can of this time of year. 

This week was the Christmas party at work and whilst I don't normally talk much about my colleagues and what my day-to-day life is at work or what we do socially I suppose I best touch on my time during what is supposed to be the one night of the year you can really let your hair down. Some people get amorous, Some people get mildly flirty. Some people cop-off with one another. Some have a bust up. The Christmas Party at work has always evoked many a good tale on the Monday morning and alas there was none to tell, and even if there was I wouldn't spill. Saturday morning I woke however with a pounding headache and a serious need to re-hydrate. On asking what time I came home I replied to Mr. Warehouse that I thought it must have been maybe two or half-two in the morning only for him to explain it can't have been since he was up until quarter-to-three in the early hours of Saturday and I was still not back, meaning I must have been out to the lights came.on. Proud to say I still got it. 

Now I have been to many a Christmas Party and works night out, maybe too many to count and certainly too many to remember. There were some of my first encounters of a night on the tiles with work colleagues was probably back in College when it would start on a Thursday lunch time with a hour-long liquid lunch down the pub and then on through Thursday Night, Friday Night, Saturday Night and Sunday night, only to roll up to college on a Monday still drunk or at the very least hangin' out our tree. 

Work life soon progressed after College where I went into my first proper full time job working for a IT and technology company in Northampton. Nights out were sophisticated and started with maybe a brief glass of Rose at lunch down the local Harvester and then home for a quick change before picking everyone up en route to town. Setting our roots down in a cocktail bar one of my colleagues husband's owned (I know, friends in all the right places) we would sip away until the club's beckoned. The night would usually end with Mr. Workaholic coming to collect me or sharing a cab home. Nights out rarely involved Mr. Warehouse in Northampton, we would normally head out of a weekend with his Sister who seemed to know every bouncer in Dunstable and as a result would queue jump and get the best protection, but this was hardly work.  

After moving back home to the 'Shire, and it was then that the work's night out on the razz dried up. Mainly I put this down to just not being able to find a job or company I wanted to work for. There was always a reasoning for the role not working out. Roles were boring. Roles were too stressful. The commute was too far. The public transport was a pain in the arse every day to and from the office. Life was just very unstable, as it had been for the last few years really. That was until I walked through the doors of my last company I worked for. 

Being introduced to more or less everyone that worked there, less than eight-weeks later there I was on a night out. And getting pissed every four-weeks on pay day seemed like a tradition of sorts. It was on this night out, all those many moons ago that Mr. Warehouse and I met. Crushing on me since I joined I had recently split from Mr. Cheese and I think as a ploy to get me to come out some of the guys in the office arranged a night out, to take my mind off it. Betting with the store-man that I would / wouldn't be late I arrived at the designated time, only to be met by a red-haired Mr. CWG and a smartly dressed gentleman in a lilac pinstriped shirt. "Oooh a sales rep" I thought to myself, assuming he would be at least in some money and therefore a good catch in terms of conversation, ethics and morals - Not just a fuck-boy like the rest on Tinder! As more and more faces turned up we headed to a club to dance the night away, but not before some of the girls from the office collared me to ask if I was interested in Mr. CWG or Mr. Warehouse. I played it coy but had no idea that both of them were vying for my attention like some sort of horny peacocks. 

After that night out a girl from the office messaged me and asked if she could pass my number onto Mr. Warehouse and I suppose the rest is history they say. Although when Mr. Warehouse explained that he was not a sales rep and indeed did work in the Warehouse I refused to believe him, until Monday morning came and I met a rather awkward and shy man in the Canteen. From then onwards there was a night at the dogs, quickly followed by someones birthday party, followed by another works night out for one reason or another and then there was the Annual Christmas Party, only to be followed a few months later with an all expenses paid awards ceremony, again drinks included. It was amazing. Like living my college years all over again. Friends soon turned to what I would class as a close knit family and will be forever looked upon as one of the most enjoyable periods of my life. But then things began to change and our little family went out less and less. I was starting to dislike my desk and whilst the people really did keep me from walking on many an occasion I knew it would not be long until the end. 

This time round with my not-so-new-anymore job I feel it is more of a sophisticated affair. Everyone is over the age of twenty-five so have done the whole falling off the curb and bundling into a kebab shop at 2am. Work life nights out now include going on dinner dates, pre-drinks putting the world to rights and talking shite, heading to cocktail bars and paying over the odds for a glass of wine when you could have bought the whole bottle at the shop round the corner. Life is much more mature, but don't get me wrong oh how I do wish I could have a messy night out again with my old colleagues, or maybe with my new ones. A good old sticky night club floor, someone to bum menthol's off in the beer garden and a mediocre argument about how I can walk home as I live so close to town and not needing a cab. Maybe this is something I should initiate. A proper dirty night out! 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

One Size Does Not Fit All!

Afternoon All, 

So the moment has come (nearly) when the shops start blaring out Christmas hits and everyone starts barging in Tesco for the last box of mince pies! But as everyone clammers for that Gold Sequin number in Topshop, here I am wishing I could fit in to Primark sizes let alone any of the other High Street or Online party dress offerings. 

Ever since I can remember I have always been a larger size. At my High School Prom I look back on the photos of me that will take him that evening and think about how skinny and then I was. I looked a bit odd with my large head on my small underdeveloped frame. True to my Emo / Scene kids self I wore a handmade "Cold November Rain" inspired prom dress compromising of a corseted bodice and a graduated hemline skirt of black silk and pink neon chiffon. I had a collar bone and arms with shoulders to be proud of. I was a size 12. Now, a decade on, I am four dress sizes bigger and with the High street now struggling to cater to my less than agile physique, three weeks ago I decided to finally do something about it. I joined a new Gym opening for less than a tenner a month and have decided to also invest in a personal trainer to help kick start the weight loss and journey to a thinner, happier and hopefully more attractive me!

My inspiration really has to come from somewhere I have spent most of my time and that is at work. One girl there has grabbed the bull by the horns and has thrown herself into the exercise and fitness regimes like a female baaws I have never seen before. Triple-Thursdays are now a thing where three back-to-back classes are in attendance every week along with work out Wednesdays and Gym-Time-Tuesday. OK the last two I made up but Triple-Thursday is a real thing. A the beginning of the year I admired her. By the Summer I was in awe of her achievements and now, I look back as we all do on the transformation she has made and applaud her for all the hard work and effort she has put in. But in all fairness it is not you or I that see the difference or reap the benefits, nor even the lucky man she has on her arm, but her. She worked so damn hard because at some point she reached where I am now in the fact that I don't want to be that Mommy that sits on the park bench watching the kids play. I want to chase after them and run around too, not sitting reading a book I don't like because I get out of breath just looking at the roundabout. I want to be able to run round the park after my step-pooch and one day my own little fluff ball playing hide-and-seek and chase. I want to run up the stairs and not almost pass out at the top. 

After my first week I was hella nervous and on entering the new Gym complex where I was to begin my Personal Training Sessions I was a little scared. Normally friendly and bubbly to the point of being in your face I couldn't have become more opposite, now preferring to be a wallflower, fading into insignificance. Although I am a plus-size gal so that ain't happening any time soon. Starting off on the treadmill I was OK, a little breathy but OK. But that was just the warm up. Next were kettle bell swinging and steps. Again, a little more out of puff but still managing to hold a conversation. following that my PT decided to crank it up a notch by introducing me to the ropes and medicine balls. Again, looking at them I thought that they might be a little more tough but something I can handle. Yeah it was OK but I was certainly starting to feel it. Sweating in all the places I never expected to I carried on, trying to battle my way through. Finally those reps were done and I rewarded myself with some water and a moments rest. But then. Then came the dreaded box of doom. 

Twenty-inches high, the cube came up to above my knee. "I have had skirts longer than that" I thought to myself. "But you also couldn't fit into them now, could you fatty!" the devil on my shoulder said in retaliation. Spurring me on I soldiered through the gruelling task of simply stepping up onto the box and stepping back down. Sounds easy enough but by ten repetitions in I needed to stop. My vision was blurry and becoming tunnelled. I could feel waves of heat washing over me and every movement of my head or body made me want to be sick. Not wanting to Vom on my PT I took a rest and sat down for fear I might stumble. I knew my limit and I was super-unfit. Regretting the cigarettes and booze and takeaways I walked out of the venue bidding farewell to the staff thinking that I could do what I always do and just never come back. 

The question is would that really benefit me? The brutal answer is no it wouldn't and in less than six-weeks time I would be wondering why I am still the same size as I was last year and the year before and the year before that, all in the hope that somewhere does nice dresses in fat sizes for my Christmas party at work. Now I am not trying to say that all people size twenty (UK) and above need to go and join a gym and get on a strict diet of lettuce and carrot sticks, but what I am saying is that I am sick and tired of looking in every shop at beautiful dresses or outfits and all in the knowledge that they are not made for my frame or size. I have had enough of seeing stylish and sexy clothes that I cannot wear because they do not fit either on the arms, bust or waist and on the odd occasion I will hit a hat-trick of all three being completely wrong in an outfit that looks stunning on the size eight model. 

I returned last week for my first full paying session with the personal trainer. She is now costing my £45.00 for six-sessions of thirty-minutes every week and at a value of less than £7.50 per session I think that works out fantastic value and gets me exactly where I want to be. I wasn't as nervous as a first time walking through the doors, and in actual fact being greeted by people that already knew my face was quite a blessing. Oddly enough I had been looking forward to it. And whilst it was hard with more of the ropes, medicine balls and kettle bells, plus a few squats and lunges for good measure I was pleased to not feel as out of breath as I was the week before. No nausea. No blurred vision. No having to stop. Powering through it like my own female baaws. I have not quite got the Triple-Thursday crave yet, but I certainly walk out of the place now feeling more confident, achieved and even with a smile of my face looking forward to my next session. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Taking One For The Team!

Hallo!

Following the fun and frolics of last weekend at Bovingdon Market, this weekend was a lot more laid back and easy going, despite Mr Warehouse working on Saturday morning that is. Nevertheless I was glad for the relaxed weekend that we had together as come Monday morning I had a big challenge on my hands. 

For one reason or another during the office move from our old establishment, it would have appeared that the holiday board had been mislaid and therefore lead to several key kingpins in the management department being off at the same time, two of which are from my department in service. At first when I learnt that I was going to be heading up the service team for the next week I was nervous, but I soon realized that maybe this is the opportunity to prove my worth and make people realize that I am not just a twenty something looking for a job. I am a serious woman that is looking for a career before settling down to have children. I want to earn my money and gain a higher position within the company and the only way to do so is to prove my value as a team member and also as someone who will be able to lead. 

Today was my first day of the week (obviously being Monday) and whilst I had started on the back foot with another member of the team being off sick I felt that I was able to handle the day well, managing both my engineers and also the customers. I shan't go into great detail about what the issues were throughout the day however there was the normal stuff as well as a few Curve-balls and sticky problems that I eventually resolved, even if it did take me to 6.15pm. 

Did I enjoy being in charge? I think to be honest it is too soon to say, especially since it is only Monday. However, it is safe to say that I am thoroughly enjoying the fact that I am the one that people look to for help. Now I know how big headed that sounds and that I am really blowing my own trumpet, but with the amount of pitfalls that I had today I am almost certain that tomorrow and the following days I can handle anything. A part of me really misses being the only one there and in charge of the whole team. Back when I worked with Mr Warehouse at our last job's, I was the only one in charge and although the division that I was looking after was small, almost overlooked in some instances when compared to the Nationwide company, it was still my baby and I had brought it up from the absolute dirt ground. When I left, the division was blossoming into something seriously worth considering for future development and growth. Over the years that it took me to build up the rapport with customers as well as the engineers and sales people, I earned my respect both internally with work colleagues as well as on a national level with directors and big-wigs alike. 

Whilst I can look back on my time at the company with Rose-tinted-glasses I sometimes need to remind myself that it was far from perfect and take into consideration the fact that things were starting to go downhill and from a management perspective, it was probably for the best that I jumped ship sooner rather than later, only to be forced to find something else. Now don't get me wrong I absolutely adored the people that I worked with and my job I lived for. Some people say that if you love your job you will never work a day in your life and working for my previous company could not have been any closer to the truth. However the money that I got was not great and as an employee I felt undervalued and underpaid for the amount of work I did, with very little thanks along the way. 

Moving to my new company (I say new but it has been almost a year) has certainly been a breath of fresh air and this week can only confirm for me that I am desperate for something more than just a job to pass time until I have a family. I can see myself in years to come running my own team and looking after people beneath me. Maybe customer service or customer relations, maybe a smaller division of the service desk running my own team of engineers. I don't know, but what I do know is that I will ace this week. Women run this country throughout the two world wars and we're probably the only reason why we were able to be so successful, so I am sure that I can hold down the fort for the service team. And despite the initial setbacks and the fact that there was a major hiccup in the holiday-authorisation department, I am kind of grateful for it happening this way as I feel that I have the time to shine and show everyone what I am made of. Being a manager, I don't know yet but I am definitely willing to give it a go, at least for a week anyway ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

New Life, New Swag!

Heyy Heyy, 

Following on from last week's cheese Saga, Mr. Warehouse and I have since binned the smelly, perfumed cheese and instead bought a stronger variety and something a lot more palatable. And to think that the next shop I will be doing for our monthly food will be after our holidays. Speaking of which, with exactly a month to go today, me and Mr. Warehouse I'm nearly fit to bursting with looking forward to our first beach holiday together. After nearly three-and-a-half-years together I can hardly believe that we have never had a beach holiob. 

In preparation for such event it would only be fair that we would hit the shops for some new clobber. Now despite having a wardrobe fit to burst I still have the absolute urgency to buy holiday clothes. I have tops and skirts, and along with my myriad of kimonos, dresses and bikinis, all of them virtually worn a handful of times, all in all I know in my heart of Hearts that I really do not need any more clothes. However a unicorn pool float and a towel with pockets is still on my shopping list. Normally I don't care too much about what I look like or how I will look in photo's as there is a common understanding in the female world that we will just simply edit our way to perfection. Mr Warehouse is a boy and to put it bluntly does not understand it. Whilst I am told almost everyday that I am beautiful without all of the make-up and hair by my wonderful boyfriend, I still want to make sure I look good on holiday, and even more so when we will be spending so much time together. 

You might hazard a guess that Mr Warehouse was much more of a simple person, buying something only if he needs it and not because it's on sale. And for the most part you would be right in thinking this, as throughout the week he wears a uniform (lucky bugger) and as a result never wears normal clothes unless it is a date night or it is the weekend. However, this weekend after just been paid, both of us decided to head off to Bovingdon Market, which was originally Miss Tweedle-Dee's idea just to have a mooch around the 'designer brands'.From household goods such as knife blocks, pillows and carpets right down to the knock-off-nigel Timberland boots, Ralph Lauren T-shirts and Michael Kors handbags. You name it and Bovvy had it. And all for a fairly reasonable price. Well most of it anyway. Arriving to pick Miss Tweedle-Dee up for once I was earlier than expected. I even had to stop so someone (AKA Mr. Warehouse) could feel his face with a McDonald's breakfast, complete with extra hash brown. Nevertheless I chose the healthier life and opted for Latte with a Banana and Yogurt from home which I never actually got to eat as I was driving. As I explained to Miss Tweedle-Dee as she got into my newly MOT'd Vivienne; I am not on a diet  - I am just simply healthy eating. 

With less than four weeks to go until I am on a beach in Tenerife I certainly feel more pressure on this holiday with Mr Warehouse then I do with the girls. I don't know maybe it is the environment that I now find myself in on a daily basis. Verses my old office where I spent my days with a ragingly posh lesbian, a hackney city girl and an old man verging on retirement. Now I am in an office full of beautiful girls and women (As well as you men - You know who you are) who make an effort every day with their appearance. Applying make-up and doing their hair nice and pretty, a part of me honestly wonders why they bother. I am not single and there is no hot men to flirt with at work so what is the point. Equally I feel it is nice that we collectively all seem to make an effort maybe not necessarily for our co-workers but more-so for ourselves as women. 

I also get the feeling that life in my new(ish) office is to be constantly looking your best at face value is not the end of it. There is the Instagram's, Facebook updates and selfies to contend with. I feel like such a typical 'twenty-something-girl' by being desperate to get an invite to a fitness class or invited out for dinner or for a quiet night in with a bottle or two. It is a more sophisticated way of socialising that I am not sure I am accustomed to yet, although I am sure than in time the constant conversation about Love Island or what is at the top of my Spotify playlist will make a difference. A little part of me wonders whether I can ever go back to feeling my absolute self at work, discussing every little niggle in life and talking through all my problems with girlie work colleagues, both inside and outside of the office - But on the other hand, maybe I am not meant to be my full self at work, just the professional version of me. Maybe its just time to move on ... 

Anyhoo, arriving at the market it bought all the fun of it back when Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I would all come down with one of our parents and I would look at all the handbags and shoes, hoping that one day I can afford to buy whatever I wanted and not just what the pocket money in my purse would get me. After scouting round from top to bottom of the market, perusing all the goods that everyone had to offer and working out which places we were going to buy what from we walked away with some supposedly John Lewis plush pillows, some pretty ballerina pumps with pom-poms on them, RayBan Sunnies, some T-shirts for Mr. Warehouse holiday wardrobe and some gorgeous smelling bath-bombs for me. A successful weekend I would say ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx