Well... *Blush*

Do you feel that you must seize control, take the initiative and run the show? And if you do, is it because you truly know what to do... or because you fear that someone else hasn't got a clue? Try to be more trusting.

Yes, guilty as charged. I think it is something, first and foremost, that my Mother commented in passing when I was... oh I don't know... 19 years old or so... just before I decided enough was enough and I didn't want to be anywhere near her toxic personality any more.

I have always thought myself as a self-reliant, independent girl. I AVOIDED at all cost getting anyone (ok, except for my eldest sister, because I was closest to her) to drive me and drop me where I have to go, mainly because sitting in the car with my Dad would involve countless amounts of preaching... and no, he is NOT a priest. I have TRIED, with all the willpower that I have, and without chucking the biggest tantrum, for both my parents to let me take the bus, or any other public transport, to and from school, back in Jakarta; something they didn't let me until I reached the last year of Junior High (so Year 9), and by an otopet. I rebelled, and took the bus anyway, and pocketed the savings from not taking an otopet (about 10 times more expensive) to fund my farewell party.

When I moved here, public transport was the most common method of transportation for school kids, and I wholeheartedly embraced getting in a bus every day. When I studied in Uni, I had to catch a bus to the city, took a train to Ipswich, and take another bus from the train station to the campus. I didn't grumble that it took me about... 2 hour each way going to and from Uni - that was my freedom, my time I could do whatever (even catch up on my sleep) without being berated.

And then I met my husband (then boyfriend). Back then, he was working in Townsville, on a fly-in fly-out job. I think he had a two-week on-site, one week off arrangement. And then his contract finished, so he stayed and looked for work that didn't require him to be so far away.

Just like any other couple in their 'honeymoon' phase, Fred dedicated most of his free, non job-hunting time to pick me up from home, drive me to Uni, drive me back home. And one day, my Mother ever-so-considerately (not!) asked "you're not becoming totally dependent on him, are you?"

Can someone tell me how, wanting to spend as much time possible with one's boyfriend, because the environment was (and still is!) much healthier than hanging around your parent's house, be a 'totally dependent' thing? How, being driven from A to B (most times, but NOT all the time) and going out to watch movies and have dinner, become a sign of me losing my frickin' independence?

But it was one thing that stuck in my mind, and consequently, it had a big impact on the way I approached work. I found asking for help, fow the task that has been entrusted to me, as a sign of weakness; a blatant show of my incompetence. The more stressful a situation becomes, the more I 'hoard' my responsibilities, not wanting to relinquish any tasks that could easily be delegated to someone else who isn't as busy, because, in my opinion, by the time I explain to them what I want, it would have been far easier for me to have done it myself.

I have learnt though, from the commencement of this year, that I HAVE to learn how to delegate. My work has become increasingly demanding and if I can palm off the easier tasks such as printing and calling Principals to confirm appointments, so be it.

But there are some things I still am not ready to relinquish... such as assisting with Principal interviews. I guess because it is, in a way, Event Management, something I am totally passionate about. I guess because when it comes to looking after my bosses, I still, to this day, want to make a good impression and portray that I'm capable of everything that's thrown my way. If I can't put out lunches and brew fresh coffee, how am I supposed to do everything slightly more intricate/complicated?

My colleagues told me that delegating is a skill. It's a newly acquired skill - one I need to practice more for me to perfect, but one I have made a start on. Like the star sign forecast said, it all comes down to trust, and I have started on trusting more of people.

Today's Star Sign Forecast...

What would you rather have: wealth or imagination? I'm not suggesting that it is impossible to have both. But... well, let's try another question. Stability? Or inspiration? The same applies here. The two things don't necessarily cancel each other out. But if it had to come down to a straight choice, what would you pick? Life is not about what you've got, it is about how you feel.

I read this as soon as I got to work this morning and almost laughed out loud (well, I did, I guess, on the inside). How appropriate.

My pick, without a doubt, is imagination/inspiration. You would never have guessed it, huh? (Ok, maybe you do...) To me, it's just no question. True, the two things don't necessarily cancel each other out. In fact, at the moment, there has been quite a few happenings at my work, my source of stability rather than 'wealth', that has inspired me to write about it on my novels.

It didn't mean, of course, that from time to time, I wish I could stay at home and write all day; God knows I've so often wished for more hours in a day so that I could fit more writing in, to finish that particular, riveting section that has been brewing in my mind for the past few days instead of leaving it for another day because it was almost midnight and it really is time for beddy-byes.

So yes, if it had to come down to a straight choice, I would give up the sense of wealth in an instant, and pursue the unstabile career of inspiration...

Something Always Brings Me Back To You...

I'm sounding like a broken record here, I know. But I also know that to me, part of the healing process is to put things down, out of my conscience, though never, ever, out of my heart and mind.

I bawled my eyes out tonight... It had been a cultivation from once again missing seeing your face, in person, around work; something that I never thought I'd have to ever worry about - not for a long while.

Most days, I feel fine; I've convinced myself that enough was enough, that was that, it was time to close the door to what had been and move on. But something always knocked me hard in the gut; it could just be the smallest things; a sad, longing lyric of a song; a powerful scene of a movie; a moving passage from a book; and I was pushed so far back, undoing all those steps I thought I've covered.

Yes, I still remember you; it will take me a very long time to get used to the idea that you're gone forever, let alone forget you. Yes, I still can feel your presence around the workplace - one that you've so fondly and so proudly built in such a short time. Yes, I still dig up all those memories of our conversations, no matter how brief, no mater how trivial, no matter that all of them were very much work-related.

I still replayed the memory of that day, parking the car at work and trudging up the steps, ready for another day, ready to greet you if you were already there. I never thought, not in my wildest dreams, to be approached by the Executive Director and one of your close colleagues, both of them looking grim and teary-eyed as they broke the news; that you've suffered a heart attack and passed away overnight.

I kept thinking they were playing a cruel joke on me, even though I knew that the Executive Director wasn't the sort of man who would do such a thing. I kept thinking that it simply wasn't possible; not when I had seen you just the day before, striding across the kitchen, saying hello to me, asking me how my weekend just past had been.

A good friend of yours, one who had recently been appointed Director to continue your legacy, said recently that you would have been disappointed that we all made such a big fuss about you; that, to quote yourself, we should 'eat some concrete and get on with it.' But I do hope you forgive me if I stumble from time to time; if the realisation of losing you hit me like a tonne of brick I could do nothing more than sink to my knees and shed a few grieving tears for you - one of the most wonderful men I've been privileged to know, and care about.