Category: Columns

Walking and cycling has become significantly harder over the past few months. To stay mobile I decided that buying a scooter is the way to go. Even so, I’m still hesitant. It’s a big step to make. I told my young son I’m considering buying a scooter. He thinks it’s awesome. When I told him it has three wheels and not two he lost a bit of that enthusiasm, but he’s still on board. After a few test drives I’ve finally decided which one to get. It’s got a top speed of 15 km/h and has great suspension. Continue reading “Scooter Adventures”

I had barely touched a computer before I turned 40. I had one at work, but it was there purely for aesthetic purposes. I was the only one of my colleagues who was allowed to hand in hand-written texts to the secretary. It was a bit of a walk of shame everytime I did, but anything was better than having to use a computer. My work would be copied over to a computer by an intern. Usually it had to go back and forth between me and the intern a few times before all of the errors were eliminated from the text. My coworkers knew about my digital illiteracy. They would send me emails, but also sent the same messages through postage, just in case. Even my Curriculum Vitae was digitized by a friendly colleague. Awestruck, I watched him type away on the computer with great dexterity. What amazed me was his ability to switch back and forth between different windows with ease. I was utterly nonplused. Continue reading “Wondrous World”

I’m a crybaby, always have been. Whenever I see anything remotely emotional on TV or in a newspaper, I crack. First I’ll try to suppress my emotions: breathing slowly, keeping my jaw clenched and my lips pursed. Soon there’s no keeping it in, and I’ll give in and let the waterworks flow. It’s always a struggle, one I can’t win and will never quite be comfortable with. After watching Terms of Endearment I spent an entire day sporting swollen red eyes. Luckily it was a Sunday because, without fail, after the sobbing fits comes the shame, especially when I’m in public. Maybe the shame feels even worse than the crying.
Continue reading “Emotional”

“You’re sweet”, my father-in-law told me. Immediately, my inner being huffed and puffed indignantly. Sweet? Me? Never! The occasion was anything but sweet as well. I had burst into tears after not being able to properly explain myself with words. When my husband started to explain to me why that was, I only grew more irate. So, sweet how? I don’t want to be sweet. Continue reading ““You’re sweet””

We were the first out of all of our friends to buy our own house. The building checked all of the boxes: pre-war build, lots of vegetation, on a broad street in a left-leaning neighbourhood. In short, a politically and socially “correct” home. All of our friends would settle in the same kind of houses over the following couple of years. It took some getting used to. There we were, banished to the suburbs, a childless couple surrounded by families in a posh neighbourhood that would turn its nose up at where we came from. Whenever we expressed these concerns, however, our friends would scoff. What did we have to complain about? We had a beautiful house in a beautiful neighbourhood and in such close proximity to a lovely park. It wasn’t like we ever went to the park, I’d never even been to the place. Continue reading “The Park”

Today is the day. Hein has had a folder for a tour on a whisper boat for over a year, but nothing ever came of it. But now is the time, a beautiful Sunday in September. We meet our friends at the boat’s mooring place. It’s a big vessel, enough space for eight people. Before we left, I, being the optimist I am, had not thought of how to actually get into the boat. Now that I’m here though, anxiety creeps up on me again. Shakily I manage to get in the boat. I spend the rest of the trip sitting down. Continue reading “A day on the water”

I’ve always been a tad jealous of those Burgundian lifestyle types. The kinds of people who have extravagant lunches, who always know what to say even if they don’t know anything about the subject and never forget good stories; who know the right people. I’m not like those types at all. I’m famous for my overly detailed answers, I often skip lunch entirely and smalltalk is something I just don’t do. No, I’m a worker, focused on content, the results. Continue reading “Bon Vivant”

I’m a great doer and very results-oriented. Even when I was a child I was a little organisational prodigy, but the results-oriented part of me I had yet to discover. I did when I started working. After every job I completed, I was always able to point out what results I had achieved during that period. I prefer my results to be tangible. Continue reading “Other business”