Into The Bucket

Last week was one of those weeks.

We all have them.  The “I think I may not have the metal to do this anymore.” kind of week.


The frustration was punctuated with a few excellent moments and some really unpleasant and/or uncomfortable ones.

So, one of the things about me is, I hand out advice like the Panda Express hands out samples of orange chicken on toothpicks.  Thing is, I don’t always follow that advice.

Here’s a taste of some of my favourite bits of advice:

  • Be kind, everyone is fighting a hard battle. (I know this, really I do, and I try to be kind but wow I can be a venomous bitch when things go wrong… If I am pissed at a person, they don’t have to spend any time guessing about it, they will know pretty quickly)


  • Pick your battles, and when you do choose to fight for a cause, kill ’em with kindness. (Um, every injustice in the world is a cause I swear I’ll get behind one day… Feeling that way all the time is freaking EXHAUSTING, and I know heaps of people who suffer from the same thing.  The kill them with kindness thing I can safely say I work pretty hard on for the most part though.)
  • Comparison is the their of joy. (This. Is. Completely. True.  Tend your own garden and  enjoy reaping what you sow, and don’t forget to share when you have a surplus)
  • Sometimes, all you can do is chuck it in the fuck it bucket and move on. (This is the whole subject of the blog…)
  • Whenever you are given a tough choice, or any choice for that matter… choose the thing that helps assure you are not being an asshole.  (This is something I practice hourly, not just daily. I actually use a different word for this particular saying, it starts with a C, but I thought this was good enough for effect)


So, while my lashings of awesome advice often consist of suggesting that people should give less fucks, I realise we all need to prioritise.  We also need to shovel through a bit of shit from time to time, but knowing when to let go and throw things that do not serve us, is a skill and a necessity.

Karma Cleaning

This weekend, I had the pleasure of seeing a couple of very dear friends on Friday, who I hosted sporting my most very flash black track pants and oversized hoodie.  Then, on Saturday, I got to see more wonderful humans, some of whom went to high school with my beloved Grumpy husband. One of those humans had become my bestie and has caught two of my babies (she’s a midwife) and I got to hang out with her doing a whole lot of nothing. It was pretty great.  Sunday was a two-year-old birthday party with one of the two Kiwi families I have firmly adopted. I LOVE them and they are truly family and it was a brief but brilliant chance to catch up with them.

The conversation was on high rotate all weekend:

“You guys have been busy!”

“How long are you in the country for this time?”

And the regular updating exchanges of news about our kids, renovations, ski trips, travel, social events, work, mutual friends and the fact that being a grown up is a bit shithouse on some levels.

Perhaps the best thing about the entire weekend was this:

I got to be myself.  My strange, awkward, loud, sweary, PJ wearing, weekend self.  No secrets, no filter, no shame, no worries.


Did my friends enjoy every moment basking in the glory of me?  Probably not.  I tend to tell the same story over and over, and I can get distracted in the middle of conversations.  Was it awesome to hang out, even briefly? You bet your ass it was.  Because friendship and family are something I take pretty seriously and they do NOT end up in the fuck it bucket.

There’s dozens of people who I hold in my heart and think of every day that I haven’t been able to lock in an any actual face-time with in what feels like FOREVER.  But rather than feeling bad about it, what does Dee do?

She chucks those feelings of guilt in the fuck it bucket and moves on.

I do not put my friendships there, but I do put the rather unhelpful feelings of guilt and insecurity in there, and whether it is a month or a decade between visits, I know my true soulmates and I will pick right up and have an amazing time together.  If not, then our reason, season or lifetime has run it’s course, and we can both cherish the memories.  Moving on.

There are things we’d all like to chuck in the bucket, that sadly, just can’t go there permanently.  Things like bills, jobs, chores, study, deadlines.  They can sit in the bucket for a bit, but you have to take them out, dust them off and deal with them at some point.  The magic thing about these things, however, is that just getting them done is much easier than the stress we feel while avoiding or worrying about doing the menial but important shit we all have to do.

This isn’t a blog telling you to trivialise real stuff like grief or change or life in general.  I just wanted to share with everyone, this observation:

The older I get, the less I care about trivialities that used to really stress me out.

I’ll end with some stuff that got chucked squarely in the bucket over the past few days:

I was told by a friend that someone I thought liked me has been running around smack talking me and calling me a flake.  Where does this belong?  In. The. Bucket.  Along with any effort to be friends with this person above or beyond smiles and exchange of niceties at the mall if our paths cross.

Um… there’s a really long list of stuff that went into the bucket but as I go through it in my head I realise it won’t serve me or anyone else to share too many examples.  Must protect the innocent and all that.


Whatever shit you might be shovelling through, big or little, good or bad, keep shovelling, and also separating into important or fuck it bucket.  I hope you have the chance to embrace the important bits like the Love and memories that you’re building while you walk this world.  I hope you have a job or a hobby or a purpose that fills you up and is not always a chore.  I also hope that you get to actively stop worrying about things you needn’t be concerned with, like keeping up with the Joneses, hanging out with people who don’t feed your soul, or going to events or places you don’t really like because you feel like you should.  You know what is important to you, and as long as you’re actively trying to NOT be an asshole, I bet you’ll be able to put a few things that have been bugging you into that big ‘ol bucket.

Have a wonderful rest of the week, and THANK YOU for reading.





People Watching on My Way Home Again

I’m all alone.


Well, sort of. I am in the lounge at Brisbane airport after a wonderfully fun and productive day with our suppliers. Lunch was magnificent. I got through a little bit of work, found out that we have to travel to Munich mid October for a European conference. I adore the team here in Brisbane. We can speak candidly and I trust them. Beyond that, their product is beautiful and kicks ass.


So after a day of comfort, friendship, and social and business interaction, I find myself alone (except for my constant companion social media).


I like it.


People watching is the activity of choice. It is really quite fascinating just observing people living their lives. Airport lounges and airplanes have become like my natural fucking habitat lately, so I am almost watching my environment unfold like a skip on a record. It isn’t déjà vu. It is just mind numbingly familiar.


There’s a couple next to me, pre-kids. They look to me like they are about 18 years old but I guess they’d be around 30 or so. She’s playful and he’s got all the trimmings of a mega nerd. Watching her tease him is making me miss Grumpy.


I walked up to get some sparkling water and sweets, and overheard a large group of 7 or 8 people who were obviously on the third or fourth round of drinks. Sounds like they are at the pitch and finance stage of an interesting start-up project. I liked what I overheard very much:


“Listen, we just have to tell them that we aren’t fucking assholes. The world is full of assholes, and we’re trying to do something fucking amazing!”


I say that all the time. I liked him. Another day I’d have certainly introduced myself and joined them for a drink.


There’s also a woman who looks as though she’s in a lot of pain. She’s had a fair amount of work done and has expensive sunglasses and perfectly coifed bleach blonde hair. She also has a walking stick. I wonder what her story is. Perhaps she’s recently suffered a small stroke. The pain after such an event can be crippling.


Everyone has a story. Often, I muscle my way into that story in places like lounges and hotel bars. I find people fascinating. I’m fed by the connections I make as I crash, head first, like a bull in a china shop through this life.


I’m keeping myself to myself tonight though, and just watching. Watching, and fabricating stories for those people who pique my attention.


In a few hours I will land in Auckland, and arrive home to an empty house. I’ll sleep for four or five hours if I am lucky, then collect my daughter from the friends who are watching her while we are away. I’ll arrive in my office, feel loved and overwhelmed, and I’ll try and makes some useful decisions and observations. OH! And I will also be hosting our friend Zac, who I met years ago, standing in line for the key-note speech at a WWDC event in San Francisco.


The hours will melt into days, weeks, months and years. Adventure, heartache and euphoria will all be frequent companions.


For now, I’ll just post this train of thought and throw in my ear buds and listen to some Gorillaz, as that’s the kind of night this feels like. A Feel Good Inc. kind of night.


Thanks for reading.