Biased

Two months ago, I got a new manager. She's about 10 years younger than me and has been in the company for more than twice as long as me. Nonetheless, she was the absolute wild card for the position and I had only heard her name before. As she worked in a "sister department" consisting mostly of industrious worker bees of the type who start work at 7 and leave at 3 p.m., the majority of them "mere office workers" with a high school degree at best, I immediately threw her into the same bucket despite the fact that I soon found out she actually had two university degrees. The image of her (supposedly) boring clerical past stuck to her and as so often before when I had quickly labelled people based on some - alleged - information and mental shortcut I had to overcome my unconscious and very conscious biases alike. 

She may not be riding 100% on my wavelength and I might set different priorities (but, hey, I didn't even apply for the job, so it's lame and easy to just criticise) , but she quickly turned out not only to be a very decent and down-to-earth person eager on getting shit done, but gradually some really interesting biographical facts have emerged that eerily match my own, such as having studied the Turkish language in our twenties (she studied in Istanbul for a year, I had a boyfriend who is originally from Istanbul for 11 years). It's amusing to myself that I actually hold unconscious bias workshops myself, but then again, their central message is that everyone is biased, but the important thing is to be aware of the fact that you are.

Short Notice

We have airplane tickets to fly to Tokyo next (!) week...that were only booked last week. Highflyer and I had actually planned to travel to Japan (he has never been, I have not been for almost 10 years) last year, but his leave from work was not approved. Until very recently it looked as if the same would happen this year, but then he got last-minute approval for a week (we were hoping for a little longer). Short, but sweet, but I am thankful all the same and have already booked all the hotels and our Japan Rail Pass. I had almost given up hope that we'd be able to fly this year and was already thinking of a plan B for my already approved June leave (that I now only needed 3 days of). Excitement is real and unlike my husband who is only too happy to leave this to me I LOVE planning travel itineraries and booking hotels and activities. Funnily enough, I am not much of a planner when it comes to other things, but I clearly must have been a travel agent in a previous life...

 

Flashbacks

On Saturday night I watched the Eurovision Song Contest Grand Final and saw the Austrian candidate win. I was pretty invested this year and confident that he could actually take home the trophy and thus make Austria the host country next year. As I was wondering whether it would take place at Stadthalle in Vienna, right in my neighbourhood, again, I was reminded of how I went to see one of the afternoon rehearsal shows with Mademoiselle and my then toxic "love interest" on what happened to be both their birthday. It was a visceral flashback, really. He behaved as erratic as always and I ended up as frustrated as always as I had wanted him to make a good impression to my friend (the opposite was the case of course) and most of all to be nice and thankful for the ticket (my treat) for once. Well, I should have known better and deep down, I definitely did, but...yeah. In a recent conversation with someone close to me who unexpectedly got ghosted by her boyfriend of 2+ years I told her that for what it's worth I hoped that this traumatic experience was good for one thing in the end: making her realise by negative definition what she definitely did NOT want in a future relationship and how to look out for green flags rather than being colour-blind to those bright red ones. Definitely worked for me.

I've Licked Blood

 

A little over a year ago, at the beginning of May 2024, I switched to a 4-day-work-week, signing a side-agreement that I would do so for two years for now. Well, now that I have reached half-time of this "experiment" I already know that I have licked blood and cannot imagine ever going back to working Fridays. I work a minimum of 9 hours now (having elected the 36-hrs-option) Monday to Thursday and officially start an hour earlier than I used to, but having 3-day-weekends EVERY weekend is bliss. You can get so much more done, do spontaneous weekend trips that start on Friday morning and even if you just want to do nothing much and chill at home, there's more time for that. My productivity definitely has not suffered and I can count the occasions on one hand when somebody had wanted to include me in a meeting or event on a Friday, so I definitely picked the right day of the week off. In other workds: wishing colleagues a good weekend on a Thursday afternoon already just "hits different".

It Comes With Age...

I am writing this from my parents' where Highflyer and I have spent the long weekend "sitting" dad while Mum got to spend a little much-needed me-time in Vienna. As usual, there were several garden-chores waiting for us. Apparently, I have inherited the "green thumb"- gene from the paternal side of the family, whereas mum does what she is told, but it is not her hobby, nor passion. When I was younger, I found the "garden talk" of my paternal grandmother, aunt and dad incredibly boring and in particularly could not understand how these women in particular (just as my maternal great-aunts) seemed slaves to their gardens, basically not able to (or claiming that this was the case anyway) leave the house overnight in summer for fear of thunderstorms that might wreak havoc in their well-kept green paradise. While I am definitely team "anarchic gardener" and won't spill tears if some plant does not survive while we are away on summer vacation, I do enjoy gardening and am thrilled when something (edible in particular) grows. Highflyer, like my mother, is happy enough when somebody else takes care of planting stuff that he can then enjoy and sticks to moving the lawn and other traditionally manly chores. Fine with me.

 

Old White Men

In the past 3 years I have been to several concerts by bands that were "in" when I was in my twenties and thirties or to see other performers, who are my parents' age or older by now. Some of them are remarkably fit and still have a strong voice. With others, you get a rush of nostalgia mixed with pity as you are pretty certain that this is likely the last time you will ever see them live.
Moreover, they are on average 25 years older than me and it also makes me wonder - while, obviously I'm not a performing artist - when I will enter that stage of people finding me low-key cringe and wishing I would stop whatever I was doing. As long as I will be able to read the room and find out myself, it's okay, but otherwise I might have to ask for (not so?) subtle signals...

Forever-Child

I may be 50+ and arguably approaching "old lady"- territory (eeek!) myself, but I still appreciate getting an "Easter nest" by my mum. Granted, I don't have to search for it in the garden anymore and pretend I believe that Easter Bunny hid it, but know that it will wait for me on the chair next to mine at the dining table. It is lovely a warm and reassuring feeling to know that even if I am by no means a child any more, I will be spoilt by my mother as long as she is able to do so. Time is precious and I value time with my parents all the more now that they are officially old. I was lucky enough to have been spoilt by grandmothers and great-aunts for decades, but now it's just my mother, who very much regrets not having grandchildren she can spoil rotten and therefore focuses all her gift-giving energy on me (and Highflyer)...