APartridge

"No, not really…I've just been feeling, I don't know, overwhelmed I think," I said, mentally shrugging off the thought as if it were a nothing thing. We stared at each other across the kitchen counter, over a tray of rusks.   The late afternoon sun was warming our almost-winter-chilled bones, hands comfy around mugs of hot tea, occasionally swatting at a dust particle that swirled and frolicked in the rainbow-tinted rays. "Overwhelmed how?" he asked.   "I mean, I know what overwhelmed is, but what is it to you?" I stared down into my tea, marshalling my thoughts, not liking being put on any kind of spot. "I'm unsettled, and I don't know why. It isn't as if things are not going well. I have the same issues, I suppose, as pretty much everyone else so I ought not to complain, and don’t think that I am! But…happenings and events and things are just moving in amongst each other and all overlapping and I don't know what els...

So last night saw the usual flurry of folk flocking to fill up with fuel. Alliteration aside, if you think that there are a lot of f-words in that tongue twister, wrap your head around this: unleaded petrol will now hit your wallet at the rate of R12.96 per litre inland, and R12.58 per litre on the coast. That's an increase of 52c per litre, though diesel outstrips that with a truly massive 76c. Fuel users are broken down into two categories: those who will rush to the pumps the evening before a fuel increase, and those who do not. Judging by the queues and overworked staff, I'm guessing that the greater number of motorists falls into the first category. I fall into the second. Let us, for the sake of argument, ignore diesel for the moment. In March of this year, we saw a very welcome reduction in unleaded fuel, by a whopping 69c. We all cheered. If we were honest with ourselves, we should have realised that this was pretty much a short-lived celebration. Although my M...

So I found myself, this week, at our local Community Policing Forum meeting. I am the kind of person who views community participation as not much more than an evening with friends or pleasant banter with the cashier at the local supermarket; I had to override my natural isolationist tendencies and make my way there, largely for professional reasons. The usual suspects, those I imagine you find at all the CPF meetings, gave their reports and feedback from the last half of the year. This included the police, Metro police, traffic, law enforcement, the Victim Empowerment Programme and a couple of other folk. Statistics were shown, graphs were displayed, and backs were thumped. I can't say if it was well-attended, it being my first, though I can say that it seemed a rather subdued group, almost as if comment and discourse was something best avoided for…well, societal natural selection does have a way of weeding out the talkers and the thinkers, much to our detriment. It wasn't...

So the GTC Medical Aid Survey for 2016 is out, and it makes for some exceptionally lengthy reading. Lengthy, that is, if you're an industry player; you're going to sift through it even though none of this should surprise you. Not so lengthy if, like me, you're a member of a medical aid plan or scheme and you're just going to look yours up. Now in its sixth edition, the GTC (formally Grant Thornton Capital) surveys, analyses and presents what it considers to be the best, and the worst, of South Africa's medical aid schemes across various levels of cover. The report is written and compiled by Jillian Larkan, no stranger to the industry; she has been in the financial services sector for over 30 years and is the current Head of Healthcare Consulting at GTC. Her accolades include corporate experience at Old Mutual, Sage and Glenrand MIB, so take it for granted that you're in good hands here. As a general introduction to the report, you should note that only 17....

Have you ever found yourself at the end of a long day, or a long week, or coming to the end of a long project and having just that one extra person come up and ask something of you, especially when you are doing your best to avoid adding anything further to your day or to your schedule? Of course you have. We all have. And we all, also, react in different ways. Some get angry, some frustrated. Some simply say “yes” and get on with it and some - though sometimes not easy - say “no”. I would like to offer you, for when you are again confronted with this situation, a simple and yet powerful tool. The tool is only three words long: “I’m at capacity.” Just like “no” is a complete answer, “I’m at capacity” is as well. The difference, though, is that our special tool means a lot more than just “no”. It means that we cannot hold space for someone right now because we have more than enough grief of our own. It may mean that our bowl, while full, is also now showing signs of wear and tea...