Teamwork seems to be a very encouraged term within the society.
At work, at school, within your relationship.
“There is no “I” in team”, they say.
I have addressed before in another blog that I am a little bit skeptical about this phrase.
To me it feels a bit like “stop acting like your own unique individual”.
“Act like the rest of the team or you cannot be a part of “us” anymore”.
The one time that I actually did enjoy teamwork was when I was in a group of people who all had the same job like me.
We all had the same struggles and achievements.
And therefore, were able to support each other.
I was communicating with people who had the same interests and goal as me.
We spoke the same language.
Had it been a project manager or financial person, the communication might not have as constructive. Simply because their priority is not quality, but money and time.
The other teamwork that I enjoy is that with my boyfriend.
When we make food, I take the preparation part, he does the actual cooking.
While he goes off to get groceries, I quickly clean our house.
When we go on a trip, he drives, I make sure good music is on.
And if I happen to be behind the wheel, we would quickly switch places when we need to park. (I am terrible at that).
He books the holiday, while I make sure everything is packed.
He takes care of financial stuff and paper work, I remind him to do it.
I make coffee in the morning, he makes tea in the evening.
When I am scared at night, he is there to comfort me.
These, and many more examples, shows how good we fill each other in.
Before meeting him, I was living on my own for about 6 years.
Obviously a period which made me very independent.
But that seems like so long ago.
In the almost 2.5 years of being together we haven’t been apart for more than 3 days.
Now that the mister got the chance to do a luxurious vacation for free in the Caribbean, I have been left in the rain.
“Do you miss me?”, he texted.
Well babe. If I only I had the time.
Work has been pretty demanding again with traveling again.
Usually he would take me to the airport, because parking over there is extremely overpriced. Plus it’s convenient.
Now I had to park that thing on the parking garage from hell.
The space is incredibly tight.
I drove 4 circles until I found a spot with two empty spaces.
I parked my car exactly in the middle.
I’m sure people think it’s rude, but it’s better than me damaging your car. And that would happen, trust me.
The days that I was home, I burned my dinner.
Not to mention a couple of things that need to be paid “immediately”. And of course I had lost my bank card somewhere during my travels. Which also means I can’t do groceries this weekend. So, whatever is left in the fridge shall be blended into a dinner.
Regardless to say, I am not good on my own.
I probably could get used to it again.
But let’s just hope that never happens 🙂