Back to Work

In exactly ONE more week, I'll be seeing the end of my back to work day after 6 MONTHS and 2 WEEKS off of work. I'm probably as nervous as i was a few days prior to starting this job 2,5 years ago. But most of it all, i also wish i didn't have to go back. Don't take me wrong, it's not because i don't like my job, on the contrary, i love it, but after this massive amount of time out of it and more to the point, after 3 months spent with my little miss, i can't seem to grasp the fact that in a week's time, i won't be spending my entire days with her.

She'll be in good hands for sure. With her dad in the mornings since he works from home and with a nanny 4 afternoons a week. So yeah. We can't say we won't see her grow up because she spends 50 hours a week with a nanny. My cousin is a nanny and she told me she has a little girl about 50 hours a week. I mean seriously. I can understand you having a very busy schedule with work and so but i couldn't get myself to leave my child with someone else for more time during the week than what I'd actually spend with her. What's the point of having a child in the first place? My point of view obviously but seriously. Would that be a wake up call if the child ends up calling the nanny "mom"?

Anyways.

So yeah, back to work in a week. I know everybody is telling me that it's gonna be good for me, that I'll see other people, I'll get out of the house and the baby-caring routine 24/7. I know they're right. I know it's important to just go out there and not worry about the baby and do stuff for myself and shit. And I've done it. Left her with her grand-mother, or her dad and get going with my stuff.

But what if i don't want that? What if i wanted to stay at home to take care of my daughter and be a housewife? Given I'd be a terrible one since i hate doing chores but a house-mom. I'd like that!

I honestly never thought I'd ever say something like this. Me having kids was not a given thing to begin with but the fact that I'm happy being at home with her, wow, that's surely an entire new dimension. I was always convinced that, if i had kids one day, I'd be eagerly waiting to go back to work and be the super-wonder-working-mom. 

Well. 

Nope.

I am this complete different person now and let's be honest, becoming a parent changes you. My sole priority now is my daughter. And my family. Would i be filthy rich, or just rich enough not to have to go back, i honestly wouldn't. I know we always joked about winning the lottery and what we'd do with all that money. I've always said: I'd keep on working not to lose control over my life and keep it real but right this second, give me a check of several millions euros, i would at least take a sabbatical. 

Bottom line is: i have 2 more chances this week to become a millionaire with the national lottery. I'll play. Who knows? My wish might be granted!

Why cuddling polar bear mommy with cub? Because it's cute that's why!

I Can Clip My Nails Again!

I can also put toothpaste on my toothbrush, i can cut my meat with a knife, i can drive my car, i can tie my shoelaces and attach my bra. No big deal you're gonna say. WRONG. It is a HUGE deal. Don't ever take these amazing abilities of yours for granted. 

You might remember that at the begining of July, i lost a wheel in the field hence couldn't continue on working the land and went back to give a hand to the Boss and my colleague in installing a sewage system. That's when i took the "give a hand" a tad too literally. Long story short, my hand got poked by a 1.2 tons tank against a sharp piece of metal while we were bringing down said tank into the hole we just dug.

Excruciating pain, profuse bleeding, during the fraction of second it took me to grab my hand and actually looking at it, i was convinced i had only the thumb left on my left hand. When i didn't see any finger on the floor and that they were actually all still attached to my hand i couldn't help but feel a massive relief. 

It's amazing the amount of blood that pumps out of a hand. I mean it'd give Old Faithful a run for its money. The couple we were working for rushed to me with a paper towel in which i wrapped my hand not to have their kitchen look like we've just sacrificed an entire cattle of pigs to whichever god. 

Put my hand under the tap, saw the damage, knew for sure that i need quite a fair amount of stitches and that i needed to go to the ER stats. 

The amazing thing with the ER is that if you're actually dying, well, you'll probably die waiting. I waited for an hour before someone came pick me up to check on me. The pain was tolerable but my middle finger and my index were getting numb and that was worrying me.

I had my hand dipping in some antibacterial liquid for a good 30 minutes before a doctor came to see me. Since the wound was deep, he told me he'd anaesthetize my hand. I swear to god, when he put the needle in my hand, it was like he was hiting me with an ice pick. All the pain i wasn't feeling up until now shot out and i honestly screamed. I'm normally pretty strong before pain but damn, that one was insane.

He dug in, noticed that it was super deep and told me, you need to see a specialist.

Following day, met the specialist of the hand at a clinic, he saw the wound, touched it a little, i jumped, he said: we're keeping you for the day. 

DAMN IT.

Anaesthesia second round, needle in the armpit to numb the entire arm. I don't know what kind of needle they use for anaesthesia but hot damn, are they painful.

Went in for surgery with a very nice and laid-back surgeon and staff in the OR, he told me that i had missed both the nerves and the tendons. Hold on, let me get back and finish the job.

8 stitches and quite a few hours later, i was back home. Alle-freaking-luia.

2 forced weeks off-work. A nurse coming to change the bandage every 2 days. Middle finger still numb but got the use of my hand back a couple of days ago. Now i can tie my shoelaces. Even though i know i'm using my middle finger, i still have no idea what it's doing!

Stitches are getting off on Friday. I can't wait. I'm dying to go back to work as well which is unfortunately unlikely since the wound is so fresh and in such a delicate part. Being stuck at home is depressing.

Hopefully, some good news are around the corner. I mean i went to the ER twice and through 2 surgeries in 3 weeks, i'm starting to feel like i've had my share of bad news, i could do with some good ones. I promise if i win €45 million at the lottery this week end, i'll stop whining.

Oh No, Not Again!

It's harvest time! I missed it last year cuz i wasn't working there yet and i missed it this year cuz well, i had to call in sick. DAMN IT. But anyway, the day i got back to work, i was sent back in the fields with my tractor to start preparing the land of newly harvested fields. And off i was. 

A lot of people i know don't like being in the fields, working the land with a tractor cuz generally, you're going super slow. For this particular work I'm doing, I'm going 5km/h. Needless to say it's gonna take me for fucking ever to do a 17 hectares field but i don't care. Drawing lines in a field has this amazingly soothing feeling for me. I'm focusing on the lines, not thinking about much else and i drains any bad thoughts from my mind.

At some point, i was making it back to a place where i had to skim the neighbor's field when i saw this big slice of un-worked land ... My first thought was: wow, was i this bad the first time, passing this far from the neighbor's field's edge? I mean it was a good 6 meters wide and I knew i hadn't been that far off. Right at that very second, i saw a massive harvester pulling out of the wheat's field. 

Security scream (as my colleague calls it!). And off i was again, minding my own business!

A short time later, i heard an unfamiliar sound/noise as i was making a U-turn in the field. I turned around and i was like: holy crap, I've lost a wheel!

I was cartoon-like, when the driver loses a wheel and he sees it going its own way rolling away. Took me a few meters to stop and contemplate the "work".

CRAP.

Called the Boss, told him that, hum, well, i had lost a wheel. He started to ask me about mechanical shit and i was like, i don't know any of that: the wheel is unattached to the trailer it's supposed to be on, nothing seems broken, please come help me!

Verdict: bearings are DEAD. We'll have the new ones in 3 days.

Well, i guess i ain't working in there for the rest of the week then. Booo.

Does this kinda thing only happen to me? I mean, seriously? I've pretty much been on the spot for every breaking there's been with agricultural equipment ... (** sighs **) Maybe once I've had broken every single one of them at least once, I'll be able to work properly! One can only hope!

My Problems Are Not Yours

It's not that nobody ever has the same kind of problems that i DO have, it's just that my job implies problems that not every John Doe has. As you might know by now, my current job is actually divided in 3 parts: working the land, cleaning septic tanks and installing septic tanks (with all the civil engineering works involved). 

A few days ago, we had to plow some of our fields. It's that time of the year when you have inspectors checking that you've done what needs to be done at the time it has to be done so Anthony and I were both on our respective tractors and doing lines in the same field. The problem there was that day was that the soil was so very much in love with the tractor and my feet it made massive sticky blocks everywhere. So i had to stop every other line to scrape the dirt out (took forever to take it off my shoes because, as usual, i only take my boots when my regular working shoes are either soaking wet or covered in so much dirt i feel like i'm actually walking 50cm off the ground). 

Needless to say that we had some serious cleaning to do afterwards. Took me 2 hours to see the axletree of my tractor again!!

and you haven't see what it looked like from the back!

I don't know who invented the Karsher (a high-pression water hose) but it is an awesome invention. A very splashy invention but a great one nonetheless. Even if i had to use a hook, a pickaxe and my own hands to get rid of it all, let's be honest, the Karsher did a lot of the tedious job. But damn, i was covered in dirt from head to toes. With the misty rain to accompany me, it was one heck of a job to do. I was drained when i was done. Literally! 

But today was the apotheosis of my working day. For the first time ever, this morning, i got sent ALONE to empty a couple of septic tanks. It went pretty well to be honest, even though moving all those sucking pipes is heavy. I got to drive the shit truck on my own, did the hoovering, did the oohing and aahing with the pipes, even wrote the bills and the certificates. But what do you do when your truck is full? Well you go to the shityard to empty said truck.

That was the second time i was doing it on my own. But man, what a second time it was.

Not entering all the details of how to unload a truck full of shit in a gigantic tank, i can at least say that things need to be done in a certain order. And when you don't follow that order, well, shit happens. And damn did it happen.

When i opened the valve, it was Shitty Yellowstone Old Faithful in all its splendor. I got drenched in shit in a split second. It was phenomenal. It was spectacular. It was so amazing that i took a picture of my misery (after taking a second to get rid of my waterproof (but not shit-proof) vest).

obviously, the phone got some too!

Anthony laughed, my boss laughed and sent me home, my boyfriend didn't think it was funny and kept on complaining about how much i stunk. I took 3 showers: one fully dressed to rinse most of my clothes, and 2 after that and i still feel i'm stinky. It feels like that crap has gone right up into my earrings holes and every single one of my pores! 

This is the kind of magical thing that happens to you ONCE. Not twice, not 3 times, just that one time and i swear to god it's never gonna happen to me again. Order is a tall order now!

But you know what? I still think my life is awesome. Shitty for some part, but awesome nonetheless!

How was YOUR shitty day?

Poetic Justice

I have been on training for a month now and it's finally over. I probably won't be using any of what i've learnt but it was a mandatory training, with an exam at the end so i thought, to hell with this, might as well enjoy the ride and learn something. And i did. There were 15 of us, of which i was naturally the only girl but i met some very cool people with whom i intend to stay in touch. 

I don't like venal people. Or people who just do things because they can get something out of it. I'm not saying i've never done that once in a while but i don't think i can ever truly trust someone who just live that way, 100% of his/her time. And since i was amongst the oldest people during that training, i was somehow shocked of how venal younger folks can be these days. It's all about the money. How much you make, how much you can get from this or that, not doing anything selflessly.

But more than just that greedy behavior of some of the group, i was also shocked (and profoundly annoyed) by their rudeness. They show absolutely no respect to the tutor or the rest of the group, constantly talking (not even lowering their voice), making inadequate comments, arriving late every day, always asking the tutor to repeat because they didn't bother to listen, even sleeping on the table without the slightest care in the world. I could have smacked them.

One of them in particular. So when one day, he decided that sitting next to me in the afternoon was the best thing he could come out with, i was fuming inside. I tolerated him two days before i actually told the tutor that, please, tell him something or i will and it'll be ugly. He did. But it didn't work. Mostly because that piece of shit didn't give an effing damn. 

So i took matters in my own hands. And i told him, just like that: would you please shut the fuck up for at least 5 minutes? It's annoying, it's distracting and more to the point, it prevents me from actually listening to the tutor. I don't give a flying fuck if you don't want to listen but i do so shut up.

Obviously, i said it out loud, not whispering at all and there was this heavy "i-can-hear-a-fly-passing-by" silence in the room and everybody was listening to me having this massive go at him. And funnily enough, most of them were smiling at me, daring to actually say something.

It's easy to complain about things and people. But if there isn't anybody to do or say something, then it's completely useless.

On Friday, we had the test with which we'd qualified as commercial truck drivers. He didn't pass. Karma is a bitch darling. I know i shouldn't be happy but awww, the sweet poetic justice of it all ... made me swoon.

And because i'm allowed to show off a bit ... i came out 2nd. 

This Is A Man's World

And it would be nothing without a woman or a girl. Or so he said. Truth is, there are some trades that are not made for women. Or short guys. And strangely enough, i've just started one just like that. No kidding! (do you honestly think i would bother write about something i haven't experienced myself? Of course not, that's the entire purpose of that blog in the first place!!)

I work the land. I also drain and clean septic tanks. If you still see (less and less) women in the agriculture world, they are a lot scarcer in my other job. And even though you still encounter women who work the land, we still have to face those stereotypes that are stuck in people's head: a woman in agriculture? she must be ugly, or fat, or both, submissive to her husband, not feminine at all and uneducated. 

Jeeez, where to start?

I'm not gonna defend myself on it all, i honestly don't care what people might think. I don't consider myself ugly, nor fat, let alone submissive and i have 2 degrees (which are, in all honesty, completely useless for what i do now for a living). But i'd like to talk about the feminine aspect of it.

For my new jobs, needless to say that i needed some adapted clothing. Cuz i wouldn't be using my regular everyday jeans or shoes knowing i would either be in the fields, in shit holes (literally) and doing some mechanics hence lying on questionably clean floors. 

So i went to the store which sell such clothing and shoes (amongst tools, construction material, paint and so on). And i have a few questions to ask all those people convinced that women doing men's jobs don't look feminine or pretty while working: 

- How can you possibly look good in men's clothes? 

- How do you look feminine wearing a trouser that is 2 sizes above your own? 

- How do you walk like you own the place when your safety shoes are also 2 sizes above your own? 

- How do you look good with clothes that are stained with grease that doesn't wash off in the washer? 

- How can you smell good when you spread chicken shit in your fields? 

- How can your hands look like you've just come out of a French manicure when you have to change the tire of a 15 tons truck or dig in the engine to get something fixed?

You can't.

But man or woman, you'll be happy to find your favorite bread at the bakery made with the cereals we planted and harvested, or eating your t-bone from the cow that ate those same cereals, and probably even happier to see the back of us once your septic tank is finally emptied and it doesn't smell like hell's broken loose in your kitchen and bathroom.

End of it all, does it matter what we look? 

There's a job to be done and that's all there is.

PS: and that makes me able to say that I am the one wearing the pants!

I love being a girl. And i love my masculine job. But why should i stop the glamour when i'm in my tractor? Girl power in the tractor! LOL.

Best Birthday Gift Ever

NOT!!! LOL

Every year, you know, there are dates that are automatically coming back, anniversaries and birthdays being some of these. Obviously. I'm not a big fan of big birthday bashes, nor is my better half so we didn't plan anything special, just a dinner at a restaurant and that was pretty much it! 

What my boss had in store for me though, was quite another story!

Totally oblivious it was my birthday (which kinda makes me think it would probably have been a lot worse!), i got sent with my pal and co-worker Anthony down a shite pit we're installing right now, the day after it had rained pretty much all night. And no it wasn't shit i was stepping onto but clay.

Go down in the pit, he said, it's dry he added. 

DRY MY ASS!

It took me for freaking ever to get the clay off of my boots and i had to drive home barefoot in order not to plaster that crap all over the carpets of my car. 

That pleasant interaction with one of nature's stickiest shit was only the hors-d'oeuvre.  In the afternoon, the boss said that he needed the two of us on another kind of oh-so-enjoyable task: standing at the back of the crop-spreader because he had just ordered several tons of chicken shit mix to spread onto the newly planted rapeseed. And since the mix was with chicken shit and sawdust, we had to make sure that it wouldn't get blocked inside hence, not spread where it should be.

It was 27ºC outside, we were under the burning sun, with hats, gaz mask for the dust and our sticks to break up the occasional block of chicken shit and long story short, we were COVERED in chicken shit dust. The only place that mess didn't get into was my panties.

But we did it. And as we've grown accustomed to, we had fun doing it. Anthony shot a video but no picture is here to show the apocalyptic look i had! Doesn't matter. I still think it's the most unusual yet awesome way of celebrating my birthday.

I freaking love my job!

I Have A New Friend!

We're not technically "friends" per say, but in the fields i've been spending time in, i've noticed this big bird of prey, probably a different one each time since i'm not on the same spot every time. Don't get me wrong, i'm not a big fan of birds, but strangely, i don't mind birds of prey. My problem is that i can't seem to find its name. 

It's a big grey hawk that looks like a mix between a Northern Goshawk (but doesn't have as much white as this one) and the Crane Hawk (but that one is from America so can't be).

Northern Goshawk

Crane Hawk

I've seen it hunt and get mice, walking on the fresh plowed land and chasing another one off of his dinning "room"! These birds are majectic. It's a utter pleasure to watch them be. I wish i could get closer. I even wish i could touch them.

I love the countryside. 

I Nap Everyday

So i've started a new job. I love it. But damn right it's tiring. 

The other day, 3pm, in the middle of a field, behind the wheel of a tractor and i was seriously dozing. I thought, crap, this isn't good. I mean, it's less dangerous than on a road or if i was driving a trailer truck but still, it's not good anyway.

When i mentioned it to my man, he told me, well, take a quick nap when you come back home on your lunch break. And i thought, pfff, what's the point, for a me, a nap is at least 1 hour and a half long so i won't have time for that. Morevoer, it makes me grumpy ! And he said, no, you need to take a power nap. 20-30 min max. 

I was hyper skeptical. How can i possibly fall asleep, rest and wake up and be on the go in 30 minutes? 

Well i did it. Went to my bedroom, took off my working clothes, set the alarm for 1:30pm and fell asleep in the blink of an eye and slept like a log. For 20 minutes. It changed my afternoon. My life. And my perception of naps.

A power nap is repairing. I start my afternoon shift all pumped up and reloaded for what awaits me. I always try to leave work on time (at noon) so i have time to eat without rushing and take a nap. 

I never thought i'd ever nap without feeling groggy and/or bitchy. I'd never thought i'd nap at all!! But it's something i enjoy every day. It's something i believe i actually NEED every day.

Who knew i'd become the napping type!

Life In The Slow Lane

As of today, i have started a new job and oh, what a 180º turn around it's been! I am now officially a farmer. I don't work with animals, i work with the land. So obviously, I've had to learn how to drive a tractor. And god knows it's nowhere close to driving a car. Or a truck since i now can. But let's put those details aside for now. 

On my first day, my boss, who happens to also be my father-in-law, brought me to a big ass field (17 something hectares to be exact), showed me how to drive the tractor, drew a couple of lines with it to show me and then told me, OK, off you go, call me if you have a problem. 

And there i was, alone, in the middle of the field, thinking of all the buttons and shit i had to do before even thinking on moving the tractor and more than a hundred and seventy thousand square meters of land to furrow. 

I followed big boss's advice, got myself in 4th of the slow gear, blocked the speed to 5km/h and off i was. FIVE FREAKING KILOMETER AN HOUR. Do you even realize how stupidly SLOW that is? 

Well so i thought. Up until i actually got going ... and then trust me, in a field, behind a wheel of a tractor, 5km/h shakes the crap out of you and it truly feels like you're going 100km/h. And honestly, it helps you put things into perspective. 

I have seen, while in that field, animals i hadn't seen in years: all kind of birds, hares, rabbits, mice, all kind of insects and butterflies and this quietness i was so longing for. Obviously, the tractor's engine is loud but in the air conditioned cabin with the radio on, i'm like in a cocoon, all by my lonesome self.

And i'm going slow. Very slow.

And it feels good.

Here, time seems to have stopped. And after all the frenzy of the city and life in general, it's a huge bowl of fresh air.

I'm loving every second of it.

I Work With Buggers

By buggers i mean i'm working with kids. Yes, me. With kids. Between 8 and 10 yrs old and sometimes, with younger shrimps as well. What do i do? I supervise them on their lunch break – which is divided into 2 parts: playing time and lunch time. At the canteen.

I've applied for the job not too convinced i'd get it but the City is looking for staff like this so badly (they told us they needed about 300 people) that they didn't have much choice than to take all the candidates who actually showed up. And that included myself.

I don't mind kids. Well, let's put it this way: i don't mind kids when i don't have to take care of them. So me being responsible for a dozen of crazy hyper active 9 years old can seem totally surreal. And trust me, it is.

I've only done 2 days so far. It's 1h30 only and 4 days a week. So i'm not gonna break my back over it.

Kids that age are fun. They want to show you what they can do. I already had a hula hoop show (i was actually quite impressed)!! But what kinda shocked me a little is the attitude of the other women doing what i do. Yes, cuz we're 6. Since we cannot legally be responsible for more than 12 kids each, there are 6 of us. And i'm thinking i'm either being overcool when it comes to authority or they may be some sadistic power-tripper bitches.

I understand kids can be draining. And tiring. And that they run and scream and shout and laugh loud and cry and shit but i mean they're not monsters and i don't think you get much by screaming at them the way they do. Or make them stay perfectly still in silence before they could get out to play after lunch and before class.

That's my point of view anyway. I refuse to be a sadistic bitch. I'll be their favorite. And even if they put hair in the waterjug again, i'll just tell them it's disgusting, go clean it and change the water and i'll move on with it all. In the meanwhile, i get some serious hula hoop training to do if i don't want to be laughed at again tomorrow!

I Am Your Mailbox's Worst Nightmare

I am working! YAY.

I haven't been working since i got back to France. Which means i've been one of the many unemployed people who is living on the state's welfare. Don't take me wrong, I don't enjoy it. Yes I receive money to do nothing at all all day but it's far from what i'm expecting from life.

Being unemployed is depressing. You turn around in your living room (in my situation, in the 20m2 studio we live in), you read (a lot), watch stuff on the computer (even more than reading), you play Candy Crush or Angry Birds and there goes your entire day. Next morning, you press repeat. Trust me, you'd kill yourself for less than that.

So one night, I was browsing the internet for ideas and job opportunities. I saw that they were looking for people to distribute commercial flyers into people's mailboxes. In a few words, they were looking for people to contaminate people's mailboxes. And they were going to pay me for that. Badly but still. It's 10hrs worth of work that would get me just a notch more than what I get from the government.

So I sent back my application, got the interview on Monday and started the job on Tuesday. I had 709 sets of 15 flyers to put together and then distribute before Wednesday evening.

I know it sounds easy. Trust me. It ain't. It's hard. Not Einstein hard. It's physically demanding. At least, a lot more than I expected. Standing in front of a table an entire day to gather all this paperwork together in one set. It's repetitive. It's a bit like a cashier at a supermarket. You're doing the same gesture over and over and over again. I was stiffed the following day you have no idea.

I had 468 kilos of flyers to move. And god knows you're moving them A LOT.

From the pallet to the table (1), from the table to the kart (2), from the kart to the car (3) from the car to the kart (4) from the kart to the mailbox (5), FIVE time (and that's without counting when you're dragging the kart from mailbox to mailbox adding so many kilometres walking) Which makes a grand total of 2 tons and 340 kilos. And I “only” had 709 mailboxes. Some areas have 1500!!

Talking about working out.

So next time you get these damn commercial flyers in your mailbox, think about that poor boy or girl who had to drag his/her fully loaded kart all the way to your mailbox. And if you really don't want any, put the “stop pub” sticker on your mailbox instead of spitting at our face. It's not an easy job. But for some dark reason, i kinda enjoy it ...

THIS ... Is What I Want

I want that body, with maybe a tad more flesh since i believe she's too skinny to my liking but hey, i'd settle with that anyway ;)

And you know what the best part of it is?

I'll get it.

I give myself 3 months for this. 3 months and a week. Right on time for the Monsters Race at the beginning of June. 

I've taken some before pictures (so what i look like now) and i'll take some more after a month, after 2 months and then at the end and i'll show them off here!

Ultimately, whenever i find the drive or the perfect fit sport-wise for me, i'm aiming at this:

Don't wish me luck. I know what i want. I know how to get it. And it's called work. 
And just like a sign i saw was stating: 

"Nobody cares about your excuses. Nobody pities you for procrastinating. Nobody is gonna cuddle you because you're lazy. 
It's YOUR ASS. 
YOU move it".

The Reason

This below, is the reason i've been unable to write anything for so long. I went on a trip called Mexico Grande to check on it since i've been remotedly operating it for a year and a half already. I couldnt keep this blog updated cuz ...

i shopped in Morelia's candy store ...

horse-back rode in Zihuatanejo ...

saw the cliff divers of la Quebrada in Acapulco ...

enjoyed lunch on the pier of 100% natural restaurant (in Acapulco again) ...

bought silver in Taxco ...

sailed on a Trajinera in the floating gardens of Xochimilco ...

went to the Lucha Libre in Arena Mexico ...

visited the A-MA-ZING Metropolitan Cathedral in Mexico City ...

climbed the Sun Pyramid in Teotihuacan ...

discovered beautiful Merida ...

visited Chichen Itza ...

took a dip in Cenote Ik-kil

met with friends in Playa del Carmen (sorry Timo, i still dont have a picture of us 2!)

and worked from our offices in Cancun ...

All that.

And then some.

TWICE.

It wasnt a vacation. It was work related.

Sort of.

:D

Speaking Is The Key To Success

A few years back, when i was working as operations manager on the pier, receiving cruise ship guests, i was working with a very good friend of mine named David. David was that kind of happy-go-lucky people who's always pumped up even after a 2 hours night sleep. I've known him pretty much since the first month I've been living and working here in PV. On the pier, he was helping me with the check-ins and reporting to me.

One day, it was almost time for a tour to depart and he told me that he was still 2 people short. To which i asked him: what about the 2 folks lining up behind you??

He turned around, look at the couple standing up behind him and asked them:

- can i help you?

- we're with you, said the gentleman smiling.

That's when David told him this exact sentence:

- sir, speaking is the key to success, if you don't tell me you're with me, how can i know? You're the 2 i'm waiting for, now let's go!

I told him in the aftermaths that he shouldn't talk to people like this because even if he was cordial, it wasn't very nice of him. But i couldn't help thinking, damn, that is so true.

I even saw a sign with the same sentence (kinda) in a local bus here. It was saying: not because you're standing in front of the door means that you want to get off. Please request your stop on time!

All throughout my life, I've heard people telling me how lucky i am. Truth is, i don't believe in luck. I believe in getting on your feet and go out there MAKE your luck. If you don't speak out about what you want for yourself or in your life, it is not going to fall in front of you by divine intervention. People are not psychics. They don't know what you want and more to the point, they don't care enough to find out. So SPEAK UP!.

Last week, i got to the point that i was about to explode at work. I am was in charge of the operations of all the bookings we're dealing with and to get more specific, making sure that all the clients we have on the field are getting what they paid for. Our clients are picky ones. They're the type of people that will complaint because the vehicle they're travelling with is grey and not white. Because the guide doesn't have all his teeth or because they want to do Tequila testing in Yucatan even though it's not the place at all. And part of my job is to make sure they get what they want. The other part of my job was supervising set departure groups. And let's be honest, it's a different job but one i connect to a lot more. More in sync with what i like to do and with who i am.

So last week, on the verge of exploding, i went to talk to my boss and told her: i'm not happy with my job, it makes me feel miserable and this is why i don't think i'm the right person for it. However, i really like the company i work for and i would like to ask for the opportunity of getting the management of the groups part only and maybe find someone else for the other part of my job.

One week later, we had our corporate retreat week, we had personal evaluations, we had meetings and chats, and today, it's been officially announced: i am the new operation manager for groups.

JUST

ONE

WEEK

LATER

If i hadn't spoken my mind, would that have happened? I don't think so. Or maybe not that fast anyway! I'm so excited, a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I'm happier than a pig in shit!

Now move over you losers, i'm gonna be queen of the world!

I Feel Like An Old Fart

As some of you might know, this past week was our Corporate Retreat. And as part of it, we did an activity all together, outside of the office. And that activity was none other than the Canopy tour of Vallarta Adventures. 

Since Dear Beloved is one of the guides there and that all my colleagues know him, we asked for him to be part of our guiding team. So it was pretty awesome to spend a few hours having fun with my colleagues and my man!

I've done the canopy trip more times than i can remember and even though i have a blast every time i go, i always feel like a million years old in the aftermath. Let's be honest, the tour is a blast. But how the people working there can do it up to 4 times a day without passing out is a complete mystery to me.

Everybody at work has that erroneous idea that i am super fit just because i bike to work every day. Biking is not like zip lining, biking is not like climbing either.

On the tour, the zip lining itself is super fun. The rappelling as well. But the bridges and the ladder, not so much. Oh my the ladder. I normally take the other way around the ladder cuz i had done it once before and almost passed out. But i was like, OK, i'm fitter than i used to be, let's give it a shot. That was a big mistake. It's a 20 meters ladder that feels like a mile long. After a few minutes, i was like, yeah i must have passed the half of it. I looked up and damn, i wasn't even one third through!

I had taken a shot of Ventolin prior to getting up the ladder and that surely helped me. But even though my lungs were up to it, none of my body muscles were. I mean 3 days later and i'm still in pain. Pain that comes from places i didn't even know had muscles in!

The good thing is, out of the 17 people that are part of Journey Mexico's team, i'm the 6th oldest but definitely not the stiffest!

So where are you young in-shape people??