Back into Bridgetown again today to deliver a 3 hour workshop on 5 hours sleep. Adrenalin is a fabulous energiser, as is coffee. And people only see what they choose to see so moving at pace with an enthusiastic voice covers up how I’m feeling inside.
I stand in the Sky Mall toy store staring at the myriad of stickers and paint and glitter and glue. I’ve no idea what I’m going to do with it all, but it’s so bright and colorful and it makes me want to imagine and create, so I spend a small fortune and leave with a bag full of goodies. I take it home and empty the bag onto my desk, shuffling bits around searching for inspiration.
It’s not coming so I head outside and empty what’s left of my brain into the business of trimming dying plants and palm fronds. I go back indoors and stare at the desk pile again. Nope. Nada.
i wander back upstairs and open the fridge door. There’s no inspiration in there but there is chocolate. It helps on a different physiological level so I have a mental pass to indulge. I chew mindlessly wondering when, if nothing strikes the mind, I should phone a friend. Thankfully it’s time to go to get ready for my boxing class, perhaps my boxing instructor and a punchbag will help.
Depleted in energy, smelly and sweat-soaked, I leave boxing and stop in another shop where I purchase more glittery card, squashy squeeze balls, sweeties, coloured pens, coloured post it notes, glittery pipe cleaner sticks and bendy yellow men. I love shopping so that’s another 90 minutes of my day. Now it’s almost time to pick Roscoe and his mate off the school bus, feed them and jump in the car for barre class at the studio. I don’t mean to be, but I’m gone for 3 hours as I do a restorative class too and then kill another hour talking to the instructor. Coming home, at 8.30pm, I combine all glitter and goodies together before concentrating on a series of big picture mind mapping; starting with outcomes and the participants experience. A few maps later, a couple of Ted talks and a browse through pin-interest before exploring my back catalogue of previous work and finally the germ of an interactive course on employee engagement is beginning to emerge, like a moth fluttering in the darkness. The moth feels good but it knows in its heart there is the light of joy somewhere, it just needs to fly around a bit harder. But as it’s now nearly 2am, I’m totally unproductive and need to go to bed. There are 24 hours to go before delivery and 24 hours is an age. There is plenty of time.
I forget that there is a plethora of workmen scheduled to visit the house in the morning. Unbelievably, and unusually, they all turn up, most of whom are only a couple of hours late. They all need conversation and guidance. As they monopolise my time and my attention, the dog runs off again, twice, what with the gate being opened and closed to let the various workmen vans pass through. I spend a lot of Thursday morning chasing the darned dogs tail. Nothing else gets done.
By 2pm silence eventually descends and I can start to pull together my structure; timings, purpose of each activity, who’s delivering/talking, notes and speaking points and materials required. The PowerPoint slides are created and eventually printed ( finding A4 paper in Barbados is impossible; this 8.5”by 11” is just a rubbish dimension and is unrecognised by my printer) and the slides are then individually self-laminated. This one activity requires lots of patience and attention to detail. Not my greatest strengths. However, it’s worth it as we’re going old school- no hiding behind laptops. It’s all blue-tak aided flip-charts, laminated slides on walls, games, problem solving, dancing, facilitating from the front. More fun but loads more prep-work.
Later that evening, I share the proposed structure with Craig and he rightly points out that one element which is an hour long, will be tricky in this environment. I can see what he’s saying and it forces another re-write and a new opportunity emerges to have employees start to define their employee experience. Actually this turns out to be genius – recognition; employee value proposition and a 20 year historic timeline are the majority elements of the workshop. It’s a good flow both on paper and in reality and there is lots of laughter, discussion, movement, listening and learning as the time flies by.
By workshop end I’m not the only one with a smile as big as a Jaffa orange slice, who is covered in glitter and pen and bits of sticky foam card. We all leave wanting more. Who says work can’t be fun?
You can even invest in the LKB collection of neat nude heels whether the kitten, cuban, wedge or classic court is your footwear of choice.
I hang up the LKB frock not sure when I will wear it again, or if I ever want to wear it again. The worn princess pants resemble a tangled, mangled, dog-chewed rag at the bottom of the laundry bin.
When he appears he is significantly worse for wear. In fact I have not seen him quite so inebriated for a very long time. Unlike many of the men I grew up with in the North of Scotland, Craig is a happy drunk; he likes singing, is tactile, loquacious, loud and generally full of bonhomie. I am in no mood for such good cheer and after giving him a proper telling off, I head out in the car for an hour to calm down. During this time he manages to burn the dinner which I’ve asked him to watch then turn off and he pesters Roscoe for conversation which is a real eye opener for them both.
He is a sweet-natured, gentle but huge boy dog. He’s a rubbish retriever and looks at balls and sticks with barely disguised disdain when they are thrown over his head. He also hates water and loathes the sea and the shower in equal measure. Washing this dog is a battle of strength, will and persistence. It’s interesting that the other males in the house melt away when this is a task which needs to be completed. I emerge from the dog shower, wetter than the darned dog every time.
