What a day. What a lousy bloody day. If you don’t want to hear a whinge, move on now. You are forewarned.
We’ve got cabin fever. It’s been raining for days without end here. I’m bored shitless, and lonely, and tired of even reading. This rain needs to stop. I need a great, big, long walk on the beach–alone. I won’t get the chance until Tuesday most likely. That is, if it isn’t still raining. I’m even impatient with Anais Nin at the moment, judging her supremely narcissistic.
We found out that Glen’s father has bowel cancer. Glen has gone away for the weekend for his annual football trip with his mates. And tonight I had one very upset little boy who missed his daddy.
And other more personal, hurtful and heartbreaking realisations. Reality bites yes indeed it does and if I had any energy I’d turn around and bite it right back on the arse, savagely, and take a chunk out of it but I’m just about done in with this one. When I said I was misanthropic the other day I wasn’t kidding. When I said I’m cynical you’d better believe it. My own cynicism is about the only thing I’m trusting right now.
I want to alternately just disappear from the face of the earth forever, and throw ceramic plates–or anything that will crash and break loudly and satisfyingly–and scream and rant like a hot-blooded Greek or Spaniard. Hoo that would be so satisfying!!
So what else can a girl do in these circumstances? Get stuck into the stoli’s, the lemon ruskies. I sound like an alcho, but I’m not. I hardly ever drink, and rarely ever alone but tonight I say fuck it. So I’ll sit here with my crackers and camembert and strawberries, my lemon ruski’s, and watch some favourite movies (or maybe not because I’ll end up sad and wishing for a ‘companion’ to watch these particular movies with)–alone as usual–and by the early hours of the morning I will either be having a ball singing loudly along with some cd’s and terrifying the neighbours (made all the worse because I’m having ear problems at the moment and can hardly hear a thing, and ear drops are making it worse, so my singing will be akin to a screeching cat), or I’ll be tragically sobbing and maudlin in my cups 🙂 I’ll take the first thanks–singing is a huge stress relief and I really need to let it out.
Oh a little bit of brightness–I found a new chorus to sing with as it seems Cloister is cactus, at least until Christmas when the musical director gets the urge to do the Nursing Home thing *sigh*. This new one is just starting out and it will be interesting to see what style of music is going to be sung, what style of people turn up–if they are church-singing warblers with overdone vibrators vibratos I’m outta there. [HA! I just typed vibrators–how very Freudian of me–yes indeed that’s what I need a right good doing by the right man but the right man is seemingly outta here too.]
Random thing I noticed–all the new art I’ve put up/changed around on my profile (and some that were already there) seems to have a water theme. Entirely random. Entirely unconscious. Entirely something to think about.
I’m so deep into my own head at the moment I’m driving myself crazy.
And no I’m not menstrual, premenstrual or in any other way hormonal.
*hugs*
Keep looking for those bright spots there. I wish I could be there for you.
Artist date for next week? Something to look forward to? Can’t do it *together* BUT we can anticipate and share our separate ones.
Yes good idea. I have a couple in mind 🙂 One being the beach on an overcast day wtih a camera and one being a visit to a cafe with paper and pen in hand.
I’m a bit better now. Sometimes I wonder about the stability of my moods lately. But … hmm haven’t been to the gym for three weeks. That, rain, etc etc (and inumberable Esther Williams movies – I LOVED them as a kid 🙄 ) and two ears that vary between mostly blocked and totally blocked and are ringing so loudly I’m bound to be a bit pissy. Someone’s home from hol’s in Iceland and Sweden so it will be nice to have that person to talk to again 🙂
Thanks for the virtual hugs. I think things are going to get so emotional and hard with Glen’s Dad. And guess how much harder that makes the situation but I feel so bad even thinking that.
Meh I have to stop blabbering and go to bed.
Yeah, I’m sorry about Glen’s dad. All the luck and good vibes to him.
Glad you’re feeling better. We’re mirroring again. Each of us rattling in our own hemisphere, about our own special problems.
So each of us does an “artist’s date” this next week? Deal? Deal. 🙂
Let’s try to shove all this real-life drama out of our heads for that short period of time. We need a break.
I’m so sorry about Glen’s dad. A part of my hopes and prayers to you.
I always feel a touch of cabin fever when there are too many sunny days in a row. 🙂 I like the way the rain stills the Earth or so it seems. Although, I can imagine your cabin fever . . . you don’t sound like and alcoholic, take it from someone that believes happy hour starts at 11 a.m.
I think it’s interesting, I’m a fire sign that loves the rain
Oh, yes, being a hot-blooded Spaniard can get you in a world of trouble . . .dangerous, trust me.
I hope you sun shines and not just the one high in the Australian sky.
I think my other post was eaten, sorry if I duplicate.
I’m sorry to hear about Glen’s dad. A part of my hopes and prayers for you and yours.
I love the rain but I understand your feeling of cabin fever, a sense of self-entrapment perhaps.
Take it from someone that believes happy hour begins at 11 a.m, you do not sound like an alcoholic.
You might want to rethink the hot-blooded Spaniard idea, trust me, it’s dangerous. 😉
I hope the sun shines for you and not just high in the Australian sky.
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