I’m falling horribly behind on my blogs recently, I need to pull my socks up. With work being so busy, I mainly get home and lie face down on the floor whimpering quietly, which is putting a massive damper on my creativity.
I did actually write one (admittedly, it was more of a bloglet) for last week with all the joys of my holibobs, but I ended up completely forgetting about posting it. Still, I don’t want you to miss out too much, so please enjoy some highlights from it. I feel all the salient points are there – the rest of the time I was just generally bumbling and enjoying the good old country lifestyle.
Good bits included:
- An early morning (read – 11am) high speed car chase when we realised TMM, who had to go back to work for a few days after the first week, had forgotten his bag. Mother and I threw ourselves into the car half-dressed, wild haired and with only 1 cup of tea under our belts and hared madly down country roads after him. Thankfully we caught up with him before he crossed the boarder into England and managed to do a hostage exchange in the car park of a petrol station. We did then have to go home and have a sit down to recover #hardcore.
- A week of pleasant bumbling around and imbibing truly staggering amounts of tea, homemade mackerel pate and being in bed for 7pm. Due to the flooding (and the fact that I’m nesh) the house can be rather perishing, we made the executive decision to retire to the big bed with the cats and just watch Film 4 pretty much every night. We looked a bit like the grandparents from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory but the cats were most pleased with the turn of events (especially when they’ve been allowed to share the pate).
- Having to leap out of bed at the drop of a power tool when Bas the builder (and changeable crew) turned up to build up the flood fortifications. It’s starting to look a little like the scene from Lord of the Rings when the Ents go around trashing Sauroman’s patch, but Bas have great plans for how it will look (Mother’s basically given him free reign).
- Taking Mother to pick out her first real smart phone since the trusty Nokia 3310 (original model) has finally given up the ghost. By the time we left, she was picking out background themes with gay abandon and I’ve received topical gifs daily (which has brought much joy to my life).
Bob-Cat, enjoying the gourmet Mackerel Pate straight from Mother’s toast.
Overall, it was a lovely week (as it always is) and I did my usual thing of holding it together very well until the last minute and then clinging desperately to my mother and crying like a child. It’s clear that we very much twinnies and I think we forget sometimes how much so. Over Christmas, Mother made the rather astute observation that I might actually be her Daemon (please refer to Philip Pullman’s Northern Lights Trilogy). We basically think the same person, shouldn’t really be allowed to do things on our own and get very distraught when separated. With my Father (whom I obviously love dearly – even when he’s a boob) we do better with a little distance. Whenever we go and visit, he has to chuck us out after about 6 hours so we don’t kill each other. Conversely, I am 100% sure that I could move into Mother’s spare room and we’d all be dandy.
Coming back though has made me realise that I’m feeling static again. There’s always a slight undercurrent of dissatisfaction whenever I leave the un-stressful and undemanding environment of that little cottage. The attitude of just waking up, going about your business and living for yourself (rather than in the cycle of eat, sleep, work repeat) gets under my skin delightfully, but makes coming back to my world a little harder every time. The time of year probably doesn’t help (as much as I try to ignore the idea of the New Year being a specific cut off)and with the dark days, cold weather and grey skies everything seems a little less hopeful. Any grand dreams seem that little bit further away and it’s easier to find ways to rip apart any plans rather than build them up.
I’ve heard some people say that social media can have a huge affect on mood and productivity too, and I understand why some people choose to leave a particular platform and cut out any “toxic posts”. Personally, I’ve always enjoyed catching up with other people’s lives, keeping in contact with folk I necessarily wouldn’t and being able to share things in my life with far flung family and friends. I like seeing other people forging forward and succeeding and I love the ideas and inspiration they give me but at the moment I can understand the stigma. Where things usually make me feel good and proactive, they now just seem to be drawing attention to how fixed I feel.
I think the majority of the problem springs from the fact I don’t actually know what I’m searching for. I’m not looking to raise a family and I’m not particularly interested in becoming a team leader or manager at work. I have a wonderful fiancé and a very nice house and by rights have nothing to desperately lust over. Still I can’t help feeling like I’m stuck in a rut. There’s a sort of personal frustration in the way that I feel I need to be doing something – working towards some kind of overarching goal, yet I don’t know what it is. Is this just the human condition? Are we destined to constantly aim to achieve and yet never able to identify why? Am I yet another confused cog in the grinding philosophical conundrum of humanity?
To be honest, I think I’m probably just feeling down at the moment. I’m too lazy to be a philosopher and not motivated or intelligent enough to strive for some unknown greatness. I know I don’t want to be stinkingly rich or world famous, and I am lucky where I am right now.
Perhaps, as TMM suggests, non-dramatic life goals are the way forward. He reminds me that we’re hoping to make a little bucket garden over the next few months; something to furnish us with fresh fruits and veg and provide a smidgeon of green in these dark days. We’re going to try and improve out fitness levels and go adventuring all over National Trust properties – “head out to the countryside where we feel most at home”, and we do have a wedding to plan in the long term – something low budget with “oodles of character”.
So, from now on, I’m going to try and spend time focusing on the small victories rather than the big holes, and find peace in the things that I know. My hair will always be bright, there will always be books to read and the stars will always shine.
“If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore; and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God which had been shown! But every night come out these envoys of beauty, and light the universe with their admonishing smile.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson.
Is it wrong just to want to be able to sit by the fire and read all day?