July 2008

Everybody has some kind of talent. Whether it is painting, acting, cooking, knitting, the list of things people can be good at is infinite. I have an unusual talent. I’m pretty believe that I’m the only person in the whole world with this ‘talent’, don’t worry it’s got nothing to do with being double-jointed. My talent is: I am a magnet for bad customer service. If something is ever going to go wrong with an organisation’s service delivery it’s going to happen to me.

From credit cards to shop floor tills, you name I have experienced the kind of stuff that’s “never happened before”. I must be on some kind of management watch list, because my name means trouble. I am the nemesis of great customer service. Flawless customer satisfaction record - no problem - sign me up and see that one disappear.

I used to get quite upset about this all. Can you imagine only experiencing the worst kind of service no matter what you do, or where you do it? It is soul destroying. It makes you want to start keeping your money in your mattress and growing your own produce.

Perhaps it’s not a curse? Maybe it’s a very badly presented gift? A talent I shouldn’t keep to myself. I think I’m supposed to share it with the world. That’s what a good super hero does. I could, single handedly, help improved customer service worldwide. I need a costume though. Something with lots of spandex and Lycra.

After a long day I can feel my brain throbbing. It’s tired and it needs a break from all the outside stimuli, but I can’t seem to stop. Having wireless installed at home was both the best and worst thing I’ve ever done. It’s fantastic for the same reasons it’s awful – I’m always in contact. There’s no such thing as a down moment, unless Telkom or Eskom has issues.

Where I’m trying to go with this is, I think I’m addicted to my laptop (specifically when it’s hooked up to the Internet). It has reached the point where I can no longer deny that I have a problem.
I can’t seem not to pickup my email. It’s the first thing I do every morning. Sometimes I do it before I say good morning to my partner. My lover is not the person who sleeps next to me. My lover is my Gmail account.

This is not healthy. I, like so many other people, have got myself sucked into this ‘respond immediately’ economy. It’s like we all believe that if we are not urgent in our responses the world will stop spinning.  Or, worse, the world will stop needing us.

You know what really makes my skin crawl? It’s not spiders, it’s not snakes, it is unread and unanswered emails. I hate the feeling of an overloaded inbox. It’s a sad day when you discover your best friend is also you’re worst enemy.

Excuse me while I weep a few tears.

When you’re in a relationship, particularly a long-term one, it’s very easy to loose yourself. It happens gradually and perhaps that’s why you only notice it when it’s almost too late. One day you wake up and you’re not you. You look like yourself, you sound like yourself, you probably even dress like yourself but there’s something missing. It’s like your zing is gone. You no longer pop.

Somewhere along the journey to personal bliss you forgot your most important passenger, yourself. You’ve been sucked into the relationship vortex. One minute you have your own life, your own friends, your own interests and the next you’re a carbon copy of your partner. It’s the Matching Tracksuits Syndrome and it’s a soul killer.

Matching Tracksuit Syndrome (MTS) is a sneaky condition. There are symptoms but they’re easy to rationalize away, in fact you’ll do anything to not see the truth. Because remaining ignorant prolongs the bliss. People afflicted with this disorder get stuck in a spiral of more. It all feels so great that those who suffer from MTS believe more will feel even better. In the long run it doesn’t. Losing yourself is painful. It’s a path fraught with anger, passive-aggressive nonsense and perhaps even the end of the relationship you so value.

It’s not all bad. If you do decide not to treat your MTS you’ll be entitled to long morning walks, with your partner, in your real-life bright matching tracksuits. Great perk, definitely worth a soul or two.

It can’t be easy to do what, you believe, is the right the thing. I, for example, don’t believe in eating brussel sprouts or living together before you’re married.
This doesn’t mean that I have anything against people who decide to live with their partners. I actually think it’s more intelligent than my belief. If you live with your partner before the BIG ‘M’ you’ll find out pretty quickly if you’re compatible or not. It’s probably prevented quite a few miserable marriages and divorces. Plus all that money you save by running only one household. So what’s the point of not living together?
Well there is no point. A belief doesn’t have to make sense (some aspects of religion are a fine example). It just has to be core to you as an individual. It’s tempting to brush this belief under the carpet, because right now it doesn’t suit me. Belief’s are, apparently, not easy to stick to. I totally get why people are ‘belief free’. Makes for a less anxiety-ridden life.
I should just ‘lose’ this belief! Pretend I never had in the first place. Treat it the way you treat someone you know, but don’t really like, on the street. But this is would make me a Belief Hypocrite. I really dislike, leaning towards hate, Belief Hypocrites. Last year they beat out previous number one seed, brussel sprouts, to walk about with the ‘worst thing ever’ title.
I’m not ready to consider myself worse than a brussel sprout.