Four Christmases and a Secret. Zara Stoneley
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words in them? There is obviously a gap in the market, people need How to get your shit together in 3 easy steps – with pictures! If I ever do get my shit together and have time, I will write this book. It will be a bestseller and help millions of people.
These bloody books have actually made my situation worse and I have just wasted another two hours of my life flicking through them on my Kindle, when I could have been planning my interview strategy. According to the books, a strategy is important. I need to write it down and then visualise. I totally get the strategy bit, I’m pretty sure the teenage me had a plan and strategy, as Ollie said, for everything. A subconscious one. But the visualisation is a new one on me.
And on top of the books, yesterday’s email from Ollie didn’t help either. It pushed me to the edge and made me think something more drastic was needed. Well, that and knowing that I would soon have to go for my interview, and then face my family and all their expectations. And Ollie. Who wished me luck at my interview. I’m not sure how he even knew, but you know what my mum is like, she tells Vera everything.
Anyway, seeing his perfect life was made ten tons worse at Christmas. And not only has he totally got his shit together, and it’s not parental exaggeration, he is also still quite nice. If he’d been a twat at Uncle T’s party, I could at least have consoled myself with the fact that being perfect comes at a price.
But he isn’t. And it doesn’t.
I can’t carry on letting everybody, and myself, down though. I am going to do whatever it takes to succeed at something truly boast-worthy!
I am going to stay calm, I am sure that ‘calm’ is key, in my bid to conquer this year (and possibly the rest of my life). It will be my year, the year I stop disappointing everybody (including myself) and be the me I am supposed to be. I am in fact going to conquer the rest of my life.
I’ve realised that I am allowed to fuck up, to be sad, angry or unsure, but I am also going to be a better me. The me I knew I could be when I was still at school – with a few adjustments of course. The one with a flat of her own (or at least a proper sized room), a wardrobe with more than two items that match, tamed hair, and a career plan. I am going to be an adult and commit (where possible, as living on a shoestring because of a crap salary does not help me in being more like Frankie).
I do have the answer to all my problems. The books have indirectly helped, so they weren’t a complete waste of money, as has Ollie.
The answer is simple. It is something I already knew. It is better lists. I have always been a fan of lists and have never been able to break the habit. But I can see now that they need to be more detailed. And I need plans. They will be prioritised and have timescales. This year I will be planning Christmas in July. I will be rediscovering my inner teenage geek – the one who always had a plan, even if she didn’t realise it at the time.
8 a.m., 4 April
The final countdown has started, and I have far too much to do before my very important interview. Once I put my newly purchased interview outfit on, there is No More Time Left.
Things I must do before my interview
My new improved lists are definitely the answer, my brain already feels less scrambled. This is my first significant list, it is phase one of my preparation for the interview. I am already becoming more like Frankie. She is so together even her wardrobe is organised by colour and type. She can actually find co-ordinating stuff and doesn’t have to root in the wash basket, under the bed and through drawers to find the top she’s after. Then iron it. Ever. She also has a good job, and the big room in our flat. Because it is actually her flat, and I rent a corner. I need to work towards a proper flat share.
1 Hair – 1pm, booked
2 Nails and eyebrows – 3pm, booked! These two are very important, because if I look and feel professional and confident, it will come across in my interview. Everybody says this, including my mother
3 Read through CV every day
4 Find photo of James Masters online (done) and visualise interview – visualisation imperative according to books
5 Prepare intelligent questions – done
6 Wash S—
9.00 a.m., 4 April
‘Oh, you are there, Daisy!’ Mum says this as though she’s been desperately trying to reach me for the past few hours, when the truth of the matter is that my phone has rung out six times.
‘I was in the middle of something!’ Point 5 on my list actually, and I’d have forgotten what it was if I’d stopped. The phone ringing was so annoying that I did have to stop in the middle of point 6, but I know I’ll remember what that is.
‘I’m sure it can’t have been that important, dear.’ Mum thinks it’s rude if you don’t answer within three rings. ‘Oh no, I’m not interrupting anything am I?’ She chortles in a horribly suggestive way. Not that I mind people being suggestive, but my mother? ‘You’re not busy with your young man, are you?’ I’ve got a suspicion she’s crossing her fingers and giving Dad the thumbs-up.
‘No, Mother, I was writing a list!’
‘Oh.’ She sounds disappointed. Honestly, I know she’s menopausal, but living vicariously through your daughter’s sex life is so not on, is it?
‘Simon and I have consciously uncoupled.’ I say primly. I have to admit at this point that I have not been entirely honest with my mother. After our big argument at Christmas, Simon and I had been on a slow fade. Honestly, that man is such a jerk I don’t know why I dated him at all.
‘You’ve unconsciously what dear? Is that a euphemism for sex with your eyes shut?’
I sigh. ‘We’ve split up.’
‘Oh dear, that’s a shame, but never mind darling I’m sure you’ll find a proper boyfriend one day.’
I am going to ignore that comment, skimming through the free excerpt of How to be the Zen you has taught me that inner calm will help with outer chaos, or something like that. At the moment lists seem more practical though. ‘I don’t want to seem picky, but shouldn’t a girl your age at least be in possession of an en-suite? Delia’s daughter has a lovely two bed roomed flat and they’re both en-suite!’
‘Who is Delia?’ I try not to sigh because that will make her worse. She already thinks I’m dysfunctional, sad and lonely. Incomplete because I am over thirty (just), single, have a crap career and rent a room. I don’t even have my own dog, he just lodges with me.
‘Next door, darling. The new people? They’ve got two children and they’ve both got their own places even though they’re single like you are! And as for Oliver, I was talking to Vera only the other day, and did you know he has—’
I might have to scream. ‘Mum. I am rather busy, I’m trying to find you a perfect birthday present.’ I’m not, I haven’t even thought about her present yet. Need to put that on a list, pronto. It’s a ‘significant’ one this year, (but nobody is allowed to mention numbers) and Dad has arranged a party. At Uncle T’s. Partly because Uncle T is much better at arranging things like that than Dad, and partly because it is supposed to be a surprise. But Mum of course found out, because she is exceedingly nosy. ‘Really going to have to go!’ I do not want to hear about the perfect Oliver Cartwright. I like the version I get in the emails he sends me, the non-bragging, funny, sweet Ollie. Not the version our mother’s report back, the blemish free, high achieving