Image via Andy Field's Flickr

Gather round close, come on, I’ve got a secret to tell you. I’m going to have to whisper it and I’ll only say it once, so listen up. Ready? Good. Here I go: I’m not peppy, I’m not a go getter and I’m not a “highly effective person”. At least not naturally. There, I’ve said it and it feels good.

Over the past few months, a lot of good stuff has happened in my life. Good stuff that I have shared with you all on this blog and via Facebook and Twitter. I’ve been trying this whole “presenting a positive face to the world” schtick. It has been quite easy, especially when so much positive stuff has been going on. I’ve been busy, busy riding the roller coaster of life and hitting some pretty dizzying heights.

Social media and blogging makes telling you all about this amazing stuff easy. Dangerously so. Social media makes “image management” easy too. I can simply choose not to tell you about the time that I exhaustedly sobbed on the train at the prospect of the umpteenth 14 hour day in a row. Or the four foot high pile of ironing in the airing cupboard that I ignored until it collapsed and spilled out onto the hall floor. Or the time that I screamed and threw a coat hanger across the bedroom when I couldn’t find my left shoe.

Not telling you this stuff isn’t really me. It is a restrained and reined in version that I dabble with from time to time. I can’t be a perky robot.

There are some lines in a Rilo Kiley song that pop into my head nearly every time I click “publish” on a blogpost:

“Any asshole can open up a museum;
Put all of the things he loves on display
So everyone can see them.
The house, the car, a thoughtful wife;
Ordinary moments in his ordinary life.”

I don’t want to be that asshole and I don’t want my blog to be a gloating gallery. I can’t always bang on about how perfect me and my sweet little life are. My life is great but there are times when I screw up or stuff happens that I can’t control.

Take this week; I have started many things and finished none of them. Maybe it is that back to earth with a bump feeling that crops up after returning from a two week holiday. On holiday, I did nothing but be on holiday. Crazy, eh? I removed myself from the Internet and anything work related for 14 days (it was pretty damned good). But I felt guilty, heck, other people made me feel guilty! (“What? No internet? You can’t do that. Think of your business!”). Arriving back to find that my business was fine and that the world had kept on spinning was oddly disheartening. Surely the world needed me more than that? Was I doing something wrong that meant I could effectively vanish for two whole weeks?

This discovery  left me feeling lazy and lethargic. Another day of me taking it easy wouldn’t hurt would it? I’ve been putting things off and burying my head in the sand. Then I started writing this post which reminded me of how good doing stuff feels. I’m going to finish writing it too, which is good news for everyone who showed the tenacity and patience to read this far.

I’ve felt down this past week. I guess a lot of people have been feeling that way, as we’ve thought long and hard about things that we’ve never had to really contemplate before. I tend to not tweet or blog much when I’m feeling blue - I grew up with the maxims “If you can’t say anything nice, shut up” and “think before your speak” ringing in my ears. The last thing I want to do is add to the misery with a moody and ponderous blogpost.

So why am I writing this? Well, here is the surprise twist to this tale:

This is actually an uplifting and motivational post! Who’d have guessed?! What I really want to say is that it is sometimes fine to sulk, to scream, to be lazy, to avoid housework, to have greasy roots, to ignore the internet, to switch off, to relax, to cry, to eat way too much cheese, to gaze at your navel because of some smart-ass song lyrics, to write a self-indulgent blogpost that seeks to justify and rationalise your flaws…

I just need to remember that, while I’m doing those things, the good stuff is less likely to happen. I can’t whinge about it or wallow in self-pity. I just need to get over it and get on with it. Above all, I can’t beat myself up for simply being human.

We are humans. We can function like robots for short periods of time, but we are kidding ourselves. The great paradox here is that there is a funny sort of perfection in imperfection.

BBxx

*Also, I’m not a huge fan of that song by Marina and the Diamonds, but the girl had a point.