When we were in Italy it was amazing. We spent 3 weeks sinking into culture, pasta and nature.  We were there during the freak snow storm in 2010 which shut down airports. We were stuck on the way to Pisa to see the Leaning Tower and arrived quite late, to be turned around in the freezing cold to wait several more hours to get back to our accommodation.

At the end of the trip I started to get snuffly. I’m guessing all that snow, travel, not to mention pollution was sending my poor asthma haywire and my nose to drip like a tap.

So we entered a little pharmacy inside Termini Station. Of course, the assistant didn’t bother to help us. She attended all the locals, chatting up a storm with her sing songy voice. I picked up the box to see what it was as it was written in Italian. It looked like a packet of Strepsils as it had the same imaging on it but I wasn’t sure. I was hoping that by picking it up that she would come over and offer assistance.

(more…)

Beep, beep, flash, flash,

Stomp on the brakes.

“You can’t make me go faster than I need to go!”

Yet you still drive up my butt.

Anger rages inside me,

I give you the middle finger,

You back away,

But I feel angry.

(more…)

I love a good counselling session. It feels good to talk and unravel stuff I’ve tucked back into the recesses of my mind.

As I untangle those knotted cords of confusion and low self-esteem, I find new ways of doing and being.

This session in particular I came armed with wanting to work on one anxiety trigger in particular.

The “I’m in trouble” trigger.

You know the one I’m talking about.  You noticed that you have a missed call from your boss and you go into automatic “Wahhhh oh my gosh I’m in trouble mode.”  Or someone has resting bitch face on and you ask them “Is everything ok? Did I do something wrong?” Or perhaps you’ve been asked to present at a meeting and you do so because heck yeah for an opportunity to show off your PowerPoint mad as skills…

(more…)

I wasn’t always a bad sleeper.

When we were young and even right up until I left home after high school, we were made to go to bed by 8:30pm. Phone calls (on an actual landline) were not allowed to be made or received after 8am.

I remember thinking it was soooooooo stupid. I wasn’t tired and I wanted to talk to my bestie (and trail the long curly phone cord down the hallway and away from listening ears of course. I mean, we’d be probably talking about that cute boy in class, or something about Jesus. I know the 2 topics seem such a contrast but hey, we were teenagers not nuns).

I’d get up at 6am because I had gone to bed so early. I remember thinking this is weird.

(more…)