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The grinding, relentless increase in the cost of living.
Going for meals, pubs, cafes etc. Hate it, feels wrong, makes me nervous. Same goes for having dinner at someones house.
I do have a relatively serious food allergy that can be awkward, but I’d be lying if I said that was the real reason.
But no, the unduly nervous stems from the opening gambit of 'I got a phone call today, and spoke to a man/woman about (insert random scheme here).
I've almost got the opposite problem with my Dad. He's become so suspicious of anything/anyone that he avoids buying things. The man that had Pong, the ZX81 as soon as it came out, an Atari, a CPC464 as soon as it came out, etc. didn't get a smartphone until he effectively had to and then fails to understand what an App is or how to access them.
He volunteers at his local NHS hospital and a while back he said he'd been asked to donate to a leaving present fund and to transfer money into someone's Revolut account. So I got "Have you heard of Revolut? I looked them up and they're owned by a Russian, so will it be safe for me to put money there?" etc etc.
OK so the phone again, just don't enjoy/like talking on it.
But as r_m "flappers". Just come back from guided riding in Czechia and it was good but by day two when people peeled to look at the feature I just rode through. By the time they caught me up at the next breakpoint half didn't ride the feature as they'd talked themselves out of it.
But no, the unduly nervous stems from the opening gambit of 'I got a phone call today, and spoke to a man/woman about (insert random scheme here).
I've almost got the opposite problem with my Dad. He's become so suspicious of anything/anyone that he avoids buying things.
Sadly got both in varying degrees with my ageing parents.
So far in the past year or thereabouts they've had two sets of guttering, some roof "repairs" (guys just removed roof tiles before claiming there was a problem with the roof), a driveway resurfacing that left the driveway unusable in one section.
Seem to fall for casual callers taking cash (very 1970s) for jobs of dubious necessity.
Which is then followed by us getting in a pro to fix the bodge job.
Flappers.
Their stress/fear spreads which undermines the confidence of individuals or the team, they narrow the focus of people by consuming attention and bandwith which should be spent on actually solving problems effectivly.
Surely those girls haven't been a big problem since the 1920's?
Flappers.
Their stress/fear spreads which undermines the confidence of individuals or the team, they narrow the focus of people by consuming attention and bandwith which should be spent on actually solving problems effectivly.
Surely those girls haven't been a big problem since the 1920's?
Bravo.
Accidentally walking pass the crotchless knicker display at M&S.
One name - Louise
Not working any more.
I turned 60 a few months ago and while I have a couple of pensions* that I hope will see me on, the thought of not having a reason (perhaps 'need' would be a better word here) to get up in the morning makes me really nervous.
There are plenty of things I could d, as Mrs.P has demonstrated since she retired, but the thought of no longer having any purpose terrifies me to be honest.
*This is another thing that makes me really nervous. I have never understood pensions, how they work or how to get the best out of them and have heard so many horror stories about financial advisors and the costs involved with them I get close to panicking whenever I think about trying to sort them out. Possibly partly because I don't know what I'm going to do or when I'm going to do it.
Going back to work after 2 weeks off, so much so it's ruining the 2 weeks off 😢
A colleague gave me a valuable tip - never return to work from holiday on a Monday. That way you don't have a sprawling 5-day horror in front of you. A Wednesday is good. I recently came back from almost three weeks off on a Friday. No meetings booked, spent the entire day catching up on emails and the like and the following Monday things were more or less organised.
A colleague gave me a valuable tip - never return to work from holiday on a Monday. That way you don't have a sprawling 5-day horror in front of you. A Wednesday is good. I recently came back from almost three weeks off on a Friday. No meetings booked, spent the entire day catching up on emails and the like and the following Monday things were more or less organised.
Another tip is, go back on a Monday, but (assuming you're in an office job, which your post implies) have your OOTO email response set up to say you're back on Tues, and have Mon booked out in your Calendar giving you a chill Mon to catch up.
OR, do like I'm currently doing, and take 6 weeks off, 4 weeks unpaid and 2 weeks annual leave and assume that everyone will realise by the time you're back that you're unnecessary and offer you a chunky redundancy cheque (I can dream can't I 🙂 )
The last time I was really nervous was about 3 or 4 years ago after the passing of my father, my sister was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. We were waiting for test results to see the next course of action. She was later operated on and was on medication etc for 3 years and is recovering now. It was during that time we were all nervous waiting for the test results. Her children were all panicking etc and I had to step in to calm them down. Her husband, the lowest of the low, were just relaxing and not entirely bothered (the bloke has some affairs outside of the marriage). I didn't sleep well for several months.
Can relate to that. I’m nervous in water. At one stage there was talk that everyone in our office would have to do the underwater helicopter survival thing - offshore and onshore staff. I’d have resigned rather than try.
To be honest the helicopter bit isn't the worst as it's over so fast, it's the 30 seconds under water using the rebreather that gets me and all the messing about pulling yourself along the pole underwater that really gets panics me.
Hoping I have one, two tops to do before I can retire ....
Yeah telephone calls, hate em even though they basically always go smoothly.
I mean I am a mental wreck anyway so that doesn't help
Has never bothered me in the slightest, however
“‘Tom*, have you got a minute?’…”
inevitably creates that horrible feeling in my stomach!
*insert appropriate name…
Massively ****tery by our esteemed leaders is the "we need to have a meeting next Tuesday", "fine, what do you want to chat about?", "we'll talk about it Tuesday but it's serious".
Tuesday rolls round after some concern on my behalf, "which is better milk or dark chocolate digestives?".
Heights.
Harnessed up im kind of a bit reckless, but without i do not like going near the edge of high places.
Very large family gatherings.
Being the black sheep of the family and all. I think they're all waiting for me to get sloshed and punch one of the cousins.
Like the cut of your jib dyna-ti.
I get disproportionally nervous when anyone says "I've been thinking..."
Never a good thing, thinking… 🤔
Andrex super soft toilet paper.
Does this even need an explanation?
Flappers.
Some people are just not made to be in charge.
Or even on a team with other people.
Indeed. But still they find themselves accidently important.
These people are known as 'Carriers'. They don't suffer from stress themselves, but spread it to others they meet.
I've spent some time thinking about the things that genuinly make me nervous, disproportionately so. I'm now going to fess up and sound like a bit of a nutter:
1. Leaving the house for holiday and checking the gas hob is turned off. I don't ever think about this except when we go away. Even when I know the hob hasn't been used. I've been known to turn the car around to check so I now do a video of the knobs on the hob so I can check it and see they are off.
2. The spring loaded finger prick blood thingys. I have no issue with needles, but I hate the lottery of the spring loaded finger stabbing devices. I do not have diabetes, I have no reason to ever finger prick.
3. I hate stuff that is disproportionally big, especially cutlery So if I go to a cafe and they have novelty knives and forks mounted to the wall. The bigger they are the more I hate it. It's something weird about proportion, it makes me nervous and my hands feel funny, like they have been inflated. I don't have to touch these things, just see them. Here is an example, a disproortionately large flower pot I saw the other day. Urgh, horrible thing.
