Monthly Archives: August 2018

This is when time lies.

It is 10.38 pm as I write, and this is when I get my second wind. I want to stay up and entertain myself, to take part in fooleries or foolishness, and ignore my exhaustion. I am exhausted, the kind of exhaustion that can only be removed by sleep, and so I have to go to bed; ideally, I should be there right now.

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Wednesday saw me take on some exercise, and now I hurt all over. I enjoyed it a great deal, but wow must I be out of shape. 25 minutes, and I’m in agony? I really don’t know what fitness is…

I was so tired this morning I couldn’t even write at 5am, I went back to bed.

Okay, now I’m exhausted. Night night all.

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A six minute story.

A six minute blog.

So there once was an old woman who didn’t live in a shoe, what kind of affordable housing is that no she had a normal house and garden that could do with more work but hell she was busy don’t judge her and she managed to come up with a salary of sorts to keep the wolf from the door and she found she was hungry for more from her life more than could be sated with occasional trips to the library and the far side of the shopping centre so one day she decided to follow a man off the bus, no real reason, she just liked the look of the back of his head and he got off at a park and walked across it and she followed him across the park with a bored fascination wondering where her wondering about him would lead her and she followed him out the other side of the park, into the light and the streets again and she saw that he was alone still and she saw her face watching his face while he waited for the Luas and she found that instead of following him, he lead her to her own face, a face too bored and that had seen nothing even when it had see everything and she let him get on the Luas without her and she went to get a coffee some skinny cappuccino nothing too heavy while she tried to think about her life, because she needed to change things, needed things to change, but lets not get too crazy here, a hundred calories a pop otherwise, have to think of the small things, what was she saying? Something about change?

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Wanna cookie?

So I make peanut butter cookies to ‘enjoy’.

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The enjoyment element is pretty much non-corporal, in that I have to imagine enjoying them. They’re dry and crumbly and …. yeah. Anyway, I have a little square of baking paper underneath, and I think I should put a positive message on each one as we go through the week. Here’s what I have so far.

“Yup, it’s a cookie.”

“Rush of blood to the head? Not because of these bad boys.”

“You alive with pleasure now? …How about now?”

 “I’m as surprised as you are we got to this point.”

“The plastic would have tasted better.”

“Nothing skinny looks as bad as this tastes.”

 

I can do this. I can DO this. Keep on keeping on.

Back to Square One

So, Friday was a difficult day, and such days do happen. Still, I was left grateful I was me by the end of it. I was waiting in the petrol station, waiting for the woman in front of me to finish putting fuel into her car. When I noticed her face turning to a look of horror, as she stared at the petrol pump in her hand. I gave her a look of ‘are you alright?’, only to have her mouth the words ‘Wrong petrol’ to me: petrol in a diesel car. Oh god the poor thing. I have a diesel car too, and I have a huge fear of doing the exact same thing. And if you do put petrol in a diesel car, and turn on the engine, you will never be able to use the car again. The only thing you can do is call the tow truck, have your fuel tank completely siphoned off, and hope for the best. I gave her some chocolates to keep her company while she waited, and headed on home. There, it was the other half’s birthday, and the wonderful Fiona of Tasty Treats (see here) had done some fantastic biscuits. And we went on to dinner in Dundrum and I ate very well. But I did break my diet.

Saturday saw me still exhausted, and very much eager for my own company. I do think writing or any personal creative endeavour can do that to a person’s mind, they need time by themselves to reflect and recuperate. I went to bed early, avoided all mention of social media, and slept.

Sunday saw me rereading a marvellous anthology I have, The Assassin’s Cloak. It is an anthology of diaries, presented chronologically, so one can look up, say, the 5th of May, and see all manner of entries for that date. It means you can see the concerns of Pepys in London during the reign of Charles the II, or the illness of Souter in 1903, the passage of the war in the 1940s across the world, the rebelliousness of the 1970s, and the newspaper concerns of Derek Jarman in the 1980s. Literature solves almost everything, I find.  To connect with other minds from the comfort of your own home, on a rainy Sunday, seems to be really such a pleasure.

And what I learned rereading that book, was that no one has any certainty about life. Everyone, from generals to princes to teenage girls hiding from Nazis, is unclear about the future, unsure about their own skills, and only able to see the way in hindsight. There is no clear cut way, no shortcut, no certainty to life. That is very much the human condition. And that has never changed.

Right. I have to away to bed. School starts again tomorrow. Wish us all luck.

A Breakthrough

So, being as busy as I am, it is always difficult to find the time to do the things that are solely for me. That means that if they are to be done, sacrifices have to be made.

So I write at 5am.

I get up in the dark Monday to Friday and sit at the computer, and write. After about two years of editing I have finished a novel, and am at the moment starting to turn my attention to a second novel. I say starting, because since I finished the current editing process for the first one, I’ve found it quite difficult to get going on the second one. I had a reduced time, for one thing, as I had to be out of the house earlier during the summer.  So lots of early starts, but not much to show for it.

But today, something clicked. Maybe the light is changing towards Autumn and I’m entering a ‘Return To School’ mindset. But today I sat down at the desk and plotted the first half out, no gaps or delays. The alarm to start the rest of the day went off at 6.30 am (what, me humble brag?), and I was honestly surprised, the time had gone so fast.

Of course, I’m exhausted. An analogy is as if you flap your arms fast enough, you’ll fly. But you’ll be tired for the rest of the day. And you’ll miss that sensation until you get back to it.

Right. Time for bed. Night night.

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Weeeeeeee!

Well that’s just not good enough, is it?

I have six minutes to type this blog…

Remember the food fest from yesterday? I got on the scale today and saw I have managed to put ALL THE WEIGHT BACK ON.

I’m like Trump’s Money, I would be in exactly the same state if I had just left it alone. So I stomped off to work and planned to have a work-out this evening.

But, no work-out! The guy I normally check out on YouTube had deleted all his videos, and moved to a paying platform. Well that is just great!! I looked up the platform, mainly to give him a piece of my mind; really, with no warning, it was just too much.

So, there I discovered his longer piece. He has been making these videos for over five years, and devoted a huge amount of time to them, usually at the expense of his family. He has devoted himself to them over and over, all the while working in, wait for it,

Retail.

He has produced hundreds of videos, for no economic reward. He’s seen them downloaded, bootlegged, mirrored and sold on, all the while he’s been producing them. And not making any more money than someone selling cigarettes on the roadside. And his mental health has suffered too: YouTube commentators are infamous for their sense of entitlement, their nitpicking, and he’s become more and more focused on likes, views, etc. And all the while watching it be downloaded and spread making money for other people.

So he has surprised over two hundred subscribers and moved to a paying platform. And as someone who will argue over and over that labour has to be paid for, really I am in no position to argue. Kid’s got a point: pay for the video.

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Time for bed

So the interesting point to note is that any day with real action required sees me completely drained by 6pm. I had two long meetings today, and I was honesty falling asleep when I was playing with Big guy when I got home.

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also discovered that I will go ahead and make bad food choices when I’m that tired. Chinese again tonight, so I have to get back on the wagon tomorrow and make amends for it. I simply don’t have anything left to give when I get that tired. The better option is to just ensure I don’t get that tired, or that hungry.  Of course, if I knew that was the case, I’d be able to avoid it…

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I’m over tired and I have to do it all over again tomorrow. One thing I did manage to do this morning was to start plotting out the sequel, so I can be glad that happened.

Right, back to the grindstone. Good night sisters.

Days that should last forever.

Another day done. I unexpectedly was at home today, and me and big guy had a fantastic time. We made playdough Titantics, and painted seas underneath them of warm blue. We went shopping for books, and ate in bakeries. Then we bought birthday cards, and congratulation cards, and farewell cards; there’s a lot going on right now.

And I hope he remembers these days, these warm, hug filled, event-filled days, where I try to make sure the day is fun and the season is always Summer, with milk-flow joy and satin-silk smiles, I hope that he sees the best of me in all of this, not just the tired me or the ugly me, or the empty-tank me.

Dinner was laughing over cartoons, then a bath, then bed, with no scary stories to be told. Only kisses, and cuddles, and teddy bears in their pjs, and lights out, now.

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And this morning at dawn, I got a phone call that my wonderful niece is coming to college. In another house, another loved one is going to sleep, with a new world starting up for her too….

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Night night to you.

Day Eleven done. 

Last of the Summer Fruits

Well it’s the weekend, another few days have flown by, and it is time once again, dear reader, to update you in the most delightful events I have enjoyed so far. You do know that my life is always in cursive, don’t you? Cursive, with a warm breeze coming through lace curtains, and a soundtrack by Charles Gounod. Summers in France, children’s laughter, soft grey wraps over my bronzed shoulders, mine is a blessed life. (Hairflick)

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Friday I was on the way to pick up Big Guy, and I noticed that the strawberry van was back. They appear each Summer and I have ignored them over and over. The one in question we passed each day, and I promised myself and Big Guy we would bring it home each day.

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And then last week, they were gone.

The spot they occupied was empty, with all the promise of summer’s end. And somehow, Friday, there they were! I stopped the car like a crazy lady and bought two punnets. They tasted amazing, mainly because Summer is leaving us. It was wonderful to savour them, knowing that they were gone forever, really. Big guy loved them too, not knowing how rare the summer fruits will be for a while. Poor mite.

And when we left to drive home, the sellers had already pulled up and were gone, leaving only an empty space.

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Day Ten done.

You do EVERYTHING wrong.

I’ve gotten to that happy stage where all/nearly all the jobs are done and I can go to bed. I woke up tired, I got through the day tired, and I’m tired now.  And you know how I know I’m tired? My other half is laughing at the computer and he is too BLOODY LOUD!

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My lack of love of humanity is growing. I always wanted to find myself on a desert island with the absolute assurance of never meeting anyone.

Right now he is laughing, and coughing, because he had a cough, and I am going to kill him.

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THIS REFERENCE IS 26 YEARS OLD

I did manage to exercise, and to stick to my diet. I’ve found some earnest thing on youtube who insists on maxing the envelope, and so forth. My cup runneth over.

Right. The daily endurance that is my life is over for another day. Good night to you all.