Year of the Wan*er

OK, OK, OK. I’ve been avoiding you along with the rest of the human race and anything that can form words.I admit that since we last made contact I’ve been perfecting the art of being a wan*er. Only in its Freudian sense mind, of finding a way to please myself without the anxiety, frustration and fumbling mess of having to deal with real live people.

What? You? The poster girl for loneliness and neediness going AWOL from intimacy?

Let me explain this Sarah Connor moment. 2013 was both a blinder and a bruiser and come December I went off grid somewhere between workplace bullying, burnout and feeling very alone at work. Soon as the referee called time I went back to my red neck roots and camped out with the wild things. As a blogger of the verbal variety it might surprise you to know that I believe that sometimes words don’t help. Sometimes you need to go feral and hang out with the rabbits. This is what happens when you grow up in the countryside, your best friend a chicken and a firm belief that moss has personality.

So it was with some regret that I re-entered the world of work this month. Sunday nights return to a regression into schoolgirl ways. Shoe polishing and weeping in the bath.

How to get back to work with other people, eeeuuuuwwwww, contact, eeeeeuuuwwww. Words. Bugger.

This year SW will mainly be talking about work and how to survive it without 2014 becoming the Year of the Wan*er. How to get up close and personal with the people we work with. Turns out that Surviving Work really is about you and me.

And here’s what I learned from the rabbits about mental health.

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