Nikita

This is the story of someone who almost always (some exceptions, granted) put her job ahead of everything else, including dieting.

How did this happen?

At school I was not exactly a teachers' pet. I was a rebel, I would only study/paid attention to classes I cared for, and those were few. Neither was I good at studying I'm afraid, although I found out this only once in university.

Then, university was almost over and I needed money. In this country, you don't have student loans. My parents were no longer paying the bills (mind you, I think that was fair), and I needed a salary - desperately. Rent and groceries were not coming for free.

I had a couple internship gigs, and then I was hired by the company I currently work for.
I do financial due diligence - basically, when you want to buy a company, you come to see me. You pay my firm a fee, and I'll dig through all the financials of the company you want to buy and outline all issues/hidden gems.

This job I started and 22 and I sometimes feel it has eaten away my life.
Back in the 90's there was a TV show called Nikita (yes, there was a remake about 8/10 years ago).
The original Nikita looked a bit like me, only, she looked very deep while when I gaze like that I just look like an idiot. Anyways, that show reflected the total lack of control I had over my life since I started this job.

From the very beginning, I was cautioned to find something else as this job was unsustainable (for a woman especially of course they thought and said). This I could not do.
Since then, I changed employers often (eventually returning to the origins), I vanished in another country for year, I changed email so often, lost touch with almost everyone. But I have many friends working with me.
Although sometimes I look around: there were 90 in my team at the beginning of the year, and only 56 are left, but we must go on - meeting the goals is my prison.

And when I think the wind is blowing, freedom (partnership) will soon come - I suddenly remember the goals will be even harder.

We are so fucking crazy that in some countries we call each project a "special mission". How much Nikita does that sound to you?

Les Allemands etaint chez moi, ils me dirent: Resigne toi! mais je n'ais pas peur. J'ai repris mon arme
J'ai changé 100 fois de nom, j'ai perdu femme et enfant, mais j'ais tant d'amis: j'ai la France entière...

Old habits die hard

I seem to be back to years ago in terms of hectic life.
I left on Sunday morning for Amsterdam and came back last night. On Saturday I'm off to Dubai for a week, then it'll be Montecarlo for another week. work work work work work.

Don't get started with how much fun this is - it is not. I'm too old for this shit.

Meanwhile my husband is also back to his old habits, and on Monday night he claimed he was at home, then disappeared from the world, went out, got shit faced, lost his mobile and faile to show up at a client meeting on Tuesday morning. His team started calling me but I was in Amsterdam and had less news about his whereabouts then his team.

So not looking forward to a good old fight tonight...

Your heart can't tell me no

"Why are you pouting?"
"I’m not. Okay, maybe I am, just a little bit"
"Oh, you totally are. You barely talk to me. So, you can develop or I’ll just go home Steve, because I’m tired"
"What did you do last night?"
"I told you, I was hanging out with a friend"
"Did you go to bed with him?"

I looked at him in the eyes. “No, I didn’t. Is this why you are pouting? This is getting ridiculous”
“I guess I’m just jealous”
“But I said I didn’t” – “That’s not all I’m talking about” he cut me off.
I stared at him, and he avoided my gaze.
“What is it that you want, Steve?”
“Rationally or irrationally?”
“Irrationally. What is it that you really want?”
“I would want you to dump your man”

Wow. I never thought he would get that straight to the point.

“And then?”
“I don’t know. But I understand your position, I do”
“So where does this lead us? Do you want me to leave you alone?”
In my mind, I silently screamed for him to hug me and not let me go.
He put an arm on my shoulders “No, I’m old enough to accept the way between the extremes. I guess we’ll just go on the same way”

Half an hour later, he walked me home, hugged me and started kissing me.

“Don’t leave me, Steve. Please, don’t walk away on me because I can’t take it”
He hugged me tighter “Okay. But I’m going home now”
Instead, he started kissing me with more urgency.
“Do you want to sleep here?” He knew I was not offering sex, but just some tenderness and cuddling.
“No, I wouldn’t be able to restrain myself” his hands gripped my ass “I’d better go now”
“Okay. Good night, and be safe. For what it’s worth, you know how much I care about you”

I woke up this morning at 120.15lbs.
Over stressed for this whole situation. I feel so bad for putting Steve through this, but I can't let him go. It's bad enough he'll move abroad in November.
Of course I had to binge like crazy at noon. Fuck my stupidity.