Three Little Wins or “Hey, at least I’m trying.”

Howdy Doody!

I’m back,


at the very least,

I’m on the road to getting back.

If you haven’t heard the good news, that bastard Henri Fayol has finally, FINALLY been laid to rest.

Before we go further, here’s today’s song. May have linked it before, but I don’t think I ever swore not to do that, so we’re in the clear.

With the paper handed in, every fragment of information about Business Management has been excavated from my brain,

But I fear I scrapped too much.

Maybe its the lack of habit with how frantic things have been lately, but I am having trouble finding time to type again.

To express myself,

To divulge.

But, that’s not entirely true.

Finding Time

My son is back to school and with the course finito, my evenings are a wealth of free time. Not only that but as I am off every Wednesday and Thursday, I have roughly 5 hours dedicated to myself to enjoy while the young tyke labours at school.

5 hours.

5 Glorious hours.

And yet I can’t find the will to sit. Some of it is fear. A fear that the high I get from typing will be gone. That I’ll open up, joke, have my little rants, post it and feel…


That fear has begun to build again, and it’s a fear that only exists if I don’t type or share or find some way to convince my brain that, and I understand I am being very generous with the word here, I am creating.

So that’s what this post is going to be.

Just me, harping on at myself,

Trying to beat the voice,

The one I dubbed,


No doubt about it, it has been a long 2, no 3, HOLY FUCK 4 weeks.

I feel there is a danger of relapse. That I’ll simply just revert back to what I was doing before.

A passenger in my own life.

We’re in May now, and while I haven’t done much, in comparison to any year bar the one where I become a dad, this has been the most “fruitful” 5 months of my life.

But, there’s a cynical side of me that once dominated every fibre of my being. I still hear the cunt now.

Your actually feeling proud? Of this?

They’ll laugh at you when you explain you’re “achievements”.

What you managed this year is a fraction of what most do in a week.

Important note: The cynic in me doesn’t know the difference between you’re and your. I do, but he doesn’t. As usual, please stick around.

But fuck it, y’know? Before I even get into things, make no mistake, I know what I am.

I understand what people see when they look at me. And it’s okay because who they see is not necessarily who I’m going to be.

When this year began, there was one word to fairly describe me.


And no, I don’t mean that in some sad-sack sorta way, I’m merely being honest about who and what I was.

Loser is defined as “a person or thing that loses or has lost something”

Boy oh boy, was that me to a tee.

Again, not trying to dismiss or belittle who I am, but I was just not trying to do or be anything “more”.

I had given up.

For 4 years or so,

I felt done.

Like I’d nothing to offer. And I let the voice, the Yibiny, push those cruel, vapid, notions to the forefront of my being. I believed every word.

Ergo, I had given up.

I had lost.

Taking Baby Steps

So let’s review the last 5 months and see how I, by my standards, prospered.

In January, I finally took the plunge and started this wee blog. A lot of anger and emotions (let’s be real, its all sadness and apathy) had been building up in me. I was cutting myself off from those around me, and I was terrified of the thoughts in my head, and where I felt that ride would end if I didn’t find a way to deal with it.

Finding myself at my second, no third, HOLY FUCK fourth-lowest point in my life, I decided I had enough.

Somewhere along the way, I recognised that I needed to start doing things that I actually wanted to do with myself. This might sound like a no brainer, but somehow it took me almost 31 years to figure out that being complacent and borderline docile for my whole life might not be the best thing to do with myself. Long had I been imprisoned by the fear that trying something I care about and failing would be so much worse than not trying at all.

CRINGEY THOUGHT INCOMING; Because if we don’t try, not only can we not fail, but we also get to hold on to the dream of maybe doing something with our lives.

giphy (1)
In case of a mental health emergency, break glass to attempt dreams

I like to think I just felt that now was the time when I figured out what I wanted to say, and how I was going to say it.

But, in earnest, it probably had more to do with being so emotionally fried that my “mental health klaxons” just didn’t set themselves off.

So, as sad as it may seem, I view this web space as a “win” for me.

Win the Second

The second victory is the course itself. Having long given up on self-improvement, I stagnated. In each segment, I’ll probably find a new way to express just how dishonest my attempt at life has been so far, and that’s ok.

Warning, there’s a minor tangent here but look, I think there’s a sweet sentiment in there if ya squint so I’ll allow it. Please, please stick around.

It’s going to take some time till I can talk about myself in a way that exudes confidence or that I ever dare come across as prideful, but in essence, isn’t that what we’re all trying, if not at least hoping to do one day.

That through hard work, therapy or magic,

we’ll be able to look at ourselves,

what we recognise as our true selves,

and feel happy?

With that goal in mind, win the second is about an attempt at self-improvement. With my job prospects looking…

Yeah… Just, uh,…….. Yeah.

I accepted that I’d need to start doing something to make my CV look appealing. To my chagrin, businesses just ain’t clamouring for 30 something white males with a standard mid-level education who then drop out of journalism courses, only to spend the next 10+ years primarily in entry-level positions.

I know, I was shocked too.

With that in mind, and seeking to find the CV equivalent of toned abs, I went looking for business-related courses. After looking through a few options, I eventually settled on business management.

“But why?” I hear you ask.

It was cheap,

Relatively short,

And once a week!

Which, since it was my first time back in the education system, I didn’t want to put too much pressure on myself, as I felt I’d be more likely to just give up. Easing myself in, one toe at a time is the name of the game.

The 12 weeks or so practically raced by, we started as a class of 12 or so and I by the end, there were only 5 of us. Again, I don’t think I learned anything, but I managed to make the essays fun, and my teacher adorned me with compliments, so overall, it was a healthy boost for the ego.

I’m still awaiting my grade, which won’t be till July, which in itself is a blessing, as I can still use the course during job interviews without having to prove that I actually passed!

Getting back into the education world, putting my second, no third, HOLY FUCK fourth best foot forward and coming out the victor of the dread Henri Fayol?

Marking this down as a win!

Win the Third

This one hits closer to home.

We all have dreams, each and every one of us have our own ambitions. Sadly, not all of them are feasible nor attainable in one lifetime, but there are certain ones that whether we know it or not, are etched onto our bucket lists, scribbled over and over and over till it turns practically illegible.

In the last month, and only having realised it once it had been achieved, I ticked something on my list.

Before I continue, I understand that what I did is insignificant, but I that doesn’t demean the act itself to me. A win is a win is a win is a win is a win IS A WIN!

I had been doing a very so-so attempt at job hunting. To be more honest, a friend of a friend worked at a fairly cosy job and someone was retiring in roughly February-March of this year. I learned this in November 2018, and so that became my goal.

Get in,

Work 9-5 Monday to Friday as I heard it was a way to make a living

Waste away the remainder of my days on reasonably good pay, especially by my living standards and,

Go on auto-pilot for the rest of my days.

A man of purpose, I most certainly am not. So I stayed in my job waiting to hear from there. The friend of a friend is a supervisor there, so as long as I was ok in the interview, the job would be mine.







Not a sound.



Not so much as a call.




Ok, the agent has finally left, so any minute now.



Any day at all.







The dude has definitely left, they have my CV.



They’ll call, right?





Taking it rather poorly, we are talking ICECRREAMTEARSSMUTANDMORETEARS as gracefully as one can, I accepted that it just isn’t going to happen. The journey to find something better, be that one which pays more, is simply handier, actually gratifying or Jesus Christ, just be a different job, must continue. Half-assing my way through websites, it was the same old, same old.

Here’s a job anyone could do, so why not you?

Want to hate your life, but be somewhere else, apply now!

Hey, we’re gonna be up front, you don’t matter, so you might as well work here.

Trying to distract myself from, well, my life, I was browsing the net when a site I follow advertised that they are looking for writers. I perked up, thought about it, clicked the link and…


The Next Day

I return to the page, see the link is still there.



I click it.



I read it.


The Next Day (Part II)


And apply for the gig, understanding its a rather basic thing, but at least in the wheelhouse of what I would like to do with myself. If asked to properly explain what that wheelhouse looks like, my answer would be a vague shrugging of the shoulders, but I know the closest idea I have of an ideal job is one where I get paid to write.

So I apply for it and give a few ideas of what I have to offer.

Question; Is anyone actually comfortable talking about their strengths? I would genuinely encourage anyone to speak positively about themselves whenever possible, but at the same time, I can’t do it without thinking that I’m coming off as a complete tool.

A few days go by,



And I get an e-mail! They would like me to attempt a sample piece. This is the first time in my life someone who may provide me with money down the line as asked for an article, so I go a wee bit batty in my reply. Every correspondence I send makes it clear that I am desperate.

I just want to say thank you so much for the opportunity you’ve provided me

I cannot understate how privileged I feel to be in the running for this position.

I just want to make sure you know how apprectiatve I am to be given the opportunity to thank you for the privilege to be in the running for this position that I will be eternally grateful for.

You can say it, it’s alright. I’ll wait here.

Waiting to Hear Back






Not a sound.



Not so much as cal- Ouu I just got an e-mail!

They tell me they like it, would be happy for a trial run but it’s purely for doing web-lists, y’know the ones…

Here Are 10 Things You Didn’t Know About Batman’s Pecs

Yeah, I know, you can say it. I’ll wait.

But fuck it, its a step in the right direction, and if getting paid to write pieces doesn’t instil me with the discipline I so sorely need, I don’t know what will.

So I got cracking and came up with the list, had a frantic back and forth trying to figure who to talk to, whats the hierarchy, where do I go, and what happens next. Figured out a list, did my best to have some fun with, throw in a joke where I could and went WAY over the word limit. They want something more like 1100 words, I gave them 1998.

There was some trimming,

But the mad lads actually posted it. Something by me, was out there, on the internet, on a legitimate website. Once again I’m gonna trash myself here. I understand precisely how insignificant something like this is. Truly, I do. It is something that can be defined as “without consequence”. Never the less, I am going to take it as a win, because once I saw it,

Once I saw,

those three fucking beautiful words.

Photo from Paulie G

I was overwhelmed with emotion.

I’m not going to pretend its more than it is

but at the same time,

I’m going to own this win.

Seeing it, seeing my name on an article, did something to me. Something internal, possibly primal and I won’t be shy about it, it felt profound.

I couldn’t stop laughing.

I cried for what felt like an hour in what was a pure excess of joy, a feeling which I haven’t felt at such a raw, emotional level in years. Not since my son was born.

Regardless of what it means long term, regardless of where things go (I’m still on probation and could very well be fired by the time you read this) from here, I’ll always have that moment where I tick the bucket list.

And thanks to that,

I’ll always have this piece to come back to.

Fourth The Win (Ugh, cashing in all my Goodwill here)

These little things I’m finally doing, these small wins I’ve recorded here, I recognise them as objectively “meagre” to an outsider,

And that’s alright.

A victory for me is not going to equate to a victory for you. The important thing here is learning to embrace those victories, to acknowledge our own progress.

Victory, win states, success, we all have our own measuring sticks for them. What we need to do, is to strive to recognise our achievements, no matter how small, rather than listen to that negative voice,

That base instinct to dismiss them.

Because if we can’t acknowledge our triumphs,

no matter how small or uniform,

Then what the hell, man!


As a published writer once said;

A win is a win is a win is a win is a win IS A WIN!

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