Tamika could be about to make a reappearance…

A few years ago, during a particularly nerve-wracking session with my therapist, I named my annoying alter-ego Tamika. Tamika is a pushover and a bit of a brown-noser if I’m being honest. She brings the home-made muffins to work. She makes the tea for meetings. Shes first to work and last to leave. She’s very conscientious. She struggles to ask for help but eventually resents the living shit out of everyone around her. She’s a giver and lets people walk all over her then hates them for it. And I hate her for it.

Tamika was in full swing in the Dream Job and I struggled to keep her under control at the Nightmare Job where I made myself unpopular by refusing to let people walk all over me. Tamika is a people pleaser and she’ll ‘do anything for the good of the company’. So yesterday’s committee meeting had me wrestling her impulse to volunteer for everything. I did very well, thank you, and I came away with just two jobs at present; next month’s catering and an assisting role for one of the workshops on memoir writing. I did what I said I would do. I sat and listened and offered help where I thought I’d be best utilised and would get the most from it. Altruistic and self serving at the same time. That Tamika has to be kept on a short leash.


Mitch Horowitz says we need to have a Definite Chief Aim. Obviously mine is to write as much as possible but I have to admit that I have a little side project I’d like to work on. Mitch also believes there is power in keeping your goals and dreams somewhat private unlike many other teachers and self-development gurus who tell us to tell the world so we stay accountable. I’m torn. This side-project is something I’d love to try but I’m not sure whether to tell the world…

Perhaps I am letting a compliment get the better of me? A couple of friends have told me I’m funny and should try Stand-up comedy and I really want to do it but I’m also terrified by the idea. I’m funny in a bantering kind of way but I doubt I could get up and deliver tight-minute let alone a tight-ten.

So we’ll see, Mr Horowitz, if I’m putting it out there or putting pressure on myself that can only lead to shame, pain and certain death.

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