I am intense (Reno).
I eat too much chocolate (Rob).
I am rude to clients (my current colleagues).
I am nice, but not as nice as my mother (Pieter).
I am caring (just like his mother; Teun).
But that's just other people's opinions, although the second one is probably true. And needless to say the last one didn't get much further than one coffee-date. I know I'm a lot to take in, and there has been a manual available on how to deal with me at Lowlands (ask Tanja) since 2006. Apart from priding myself with a good sense of humour, I congratulate myself with a fine taste in music. Maybe add drama-queen to that list (and plenty of other qualities that make me worth my while).
The psychological test I had to take for my job pointed out that I have a more than average inclination for depression. I knew that, but combine it with what I see at work everyday it's lethal combination ending up in pessimism. Although I prefer to call myself a realist, who always has a Plan B ready (B stands for backup, people).
But now a friend of ours is diagnosed with a braintumour and he needs all the positive thoughts he can get (next to surgery). My realism; "baby, it's a braintumour, not a splinter, he could die", makes my best friend cry, and we can't have that. So in order to practice some altruistic, happy, over-the-top-optimism, I am going to hand out heart-shaped-home-made cookies on the Rotterdam market tomorrow morning. Not by myself, oh no, there's actual groups doing this. For fun. I feel like I'm Wednesday Addams going to Camp Chippewa, but I'm pretty sure the 'blije brigade' (happy brigade) will be gentle with me, opti-virgo.
Yes, I spent my friday night baking. Ah well, I found myself drinking bottled water and munching on carrots last saturdaynight behind the till at Bazar Curieux, so it's progress.
This one is for Wouter (aka Walter Walletshaker).
To be continued...
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