Lethargy, Thy Name is Dan!

God, the feeling of utter boredom and cannot be bothered-ness (I know, nice new word created there) has made a home in my mind the last few weeks. Ever since handing in my notice pretty much.

So let me explain. I’m not generally one of those people who, when faced with impending departure from a job, sits back and say’s “Sod it”. Generally, when I’m leaving a place, it’s for a career move and although that normally goes hand in hand with more money, career is normally the way. This time, I’m leaving purely for financial reasons. Times are tough, I’m drastically unpaid in my current job and the management knows it. Again, not normally an issue, you part on amicable terms and everyone is happy.

The only difference here is the fact I like it here and I thought I was a valued member of the team. I have a good relationship with the management team and the managing director. So when I handed my notice in, I did expect them to fight to keep me. I understand times are tough and as the accounts manager, I know only too well the company’s financial position. But nothing came. All I got was a letter saying thanks and good luck. The MD hasn’t even been bothered to talk to me personally (which for a small company, I find quite upsetting). My manager did offer me £x amount extra, but it was no more than a bog standard pay rise and to go with it, I would need to take on MORE responsibility and work! So not a pay rise, but a job restructure. I don’t want a new job, I want a fair wage for a damn good job I do (especially taking into account the fact I saved the company £12,000 in my first 3 months).

So if they can’t be bothered, then neither can I.

Add to this my holiday is in a few weeks, my “get up and go” has definitely “got up and gone”. I cannot wait to get out to sunny Spain and sip away on a few cerveza with my good friends we’re going with. My little girl is much older now than when we took her to Egypt. This is either going to make things a lot of fun as she’ll be able to play a lot more, but can also make for relaxing times to be few and far between. When we were in Egypt, she was only 6 months old and was happy chilling in her pram while we went out at night etc. Now she is 17 months, I can’t see her being quite so content to sit in her pram while mummy and daddy enjoy a nice meal.

So all this combined has brought me to the conclusion that I need to chill out now. Combine that to my new addiction to Google+ and you have a very lethargic and “cannot be bothered” Dan.

I Need Anger Management

I have a short temper.

There it is, in black and White. It’s something I’ve always had (along with no patience) and something I guess I’ll always have. It’s never been an issue before. Usually I can surpress my rage and cool off. I’ve never lost control. Yet.

And that’s my concern. Since my daughter’s arrived, I’ve been getting very angry when she crys. This is down to the fact I can’t help her. If I’ve changed her and burped her, I can’t do anything else (we’re breast feeding). So I feel helpless and this frustrates me and boils my anger so much! I’m truly concerned that one day I may lose it.

What riles me even more, is I’m so ashamed at getting angry. I know she isn’t trying to upset me or wind me up and my poor wife has to deal with a crying 6 week old and a husband on the edge. I’m a weak man and need help.

I’ve looked around on my local councils website and can only find help for under 25’s. How pants is that?!?!? So I’ve emailed the Samaritans. If you’re interested, I’ll let you know how it goes.

Being a Protective Parent

Fatherhood is looming for me. My wife is expecting to give birth in the next 7 weeks and to tell you the truth, I’ve not thought about it a great deal. Thats not to say I’m not over the moon, but I’m not the sort of person who gets all emotional very easily.

That being said, I have started to worry about my unborn child.

It started the other night when I watched an episode of Glee in which they had a disabled character appear as Sue’s big sister. I’ve known people with Downs syndrome and other disabilities and it’s never been a problem for me. I believe that with love and support, everyone can lead a normal life. But it worried me. I felt the first twang of a worried parent. What if my child was born disabled in some kind? Then I rationalised that, although be EXTREMELY difficult, it wouldn’t change a thing of how much I’d love and support it. I guess every parent feels this way and it was strange knowing the feeling of wanting to protect my child for the first time!

I thought nothing of it, an emotional blip on my radar of hard-bastardness and put it down to being tired. But then it happened again this morning.

I receive an e-mail everyday from the BBC with the day’s headlines (an e-paper I like to think of it) and the main story was of the re-imprisonment of Jon Venables, one of the evil duo who brutally murdered James Bulger back in 93 (apologies to non-UK readers). It appears the scum has been returned to prison on “breach of his license”.

Basically, for those international readers, back in 93 two 10-year-old boys abducted a 2-year-old toddler from a shopping centre in Liverpool, took him to a set of train tracks and brutally murdered him using metal bars and bricks. They were sentenced to life but were released in 2001 (got to love our justice system), given new names and identities and got to live out the rest of their lives in secret (even speeding fines get put on your record, not these scum).

So now he’s back where he belongs (albeit it on a technicality, but that’s how they caught Capone!). I doubt he’ll be there long. Those sort of bastards always manage to survive and live. But it did make me feel so terrible for poor James’s mother. Not only was her son taken from her and murdered in such a barbaric way, but she has to live with the knowledge that her sons killers are free. Part of their license is they are not allowed anywhere near Merseyside, but how can this be policed? That poor mother lives with the knowledge she could bump into her sons killers at any time and be face to face with evil.

Midway reading the piece, my stomach sank. What if I ever lost my child? A brief moment of fear spread through me and the parental feeling of protect came over me. It was a strange feeling. I’ve never cared that much about anything before, but I knew for a brief moment, that I’d do anything to protect my own.

I’m sure these feelings will get stronger and it feels so alien to a self-proclaimed “cold heart emotional retard” to feel this passionately about anything. Feels quite nice though.