Those that live by the blog, shall die by the blog – though it is to be hoped, in the case of the trans guy just outed by the Daily Mail, that the end is not quite as literal as that.
Posts tagged clumsiness
I think I’ve reached my limits. Which announcement will probably cause a certain reader called Liz to smile and, if she is on the ball, to post “told you so!”
Back around four weeks ago, I had high hopes of using the run-up (or countdown) to the big day as a period when I could clear the decks, do a load of stuff I wouldn’t normally get around to, and go forward that much lighter. I had a number of ambitious tasks in the pipeline (including a lot of house-painting) as well as some slightly less commercial writing.
Alas! The plans weren’t THAT unrealistic – if nothing else raised it head to disturb my peace. But every time I’ve cleared one task, a couple more rise up to take its place and now, with just about fourteen days left before my open house party, I suspect that it is time to take advice, de-stress, and have some me time.
(Well, you won’t stop me writing…but I think the painting is mostly shelved. Or shelves, which are dainty little things only needing a lick of gloss )
Of course, Thursday didn’t help. I think I mentioned how it started…but then, I was only posting half way thru. Not just the mad rush and the closed tube and the wet dishrag feeling I had all day.
But there was more. I left the internet café, where I wrote Thursday up to about tea time, reaching Kings Cross just in time to stub my toe for the umpteenth time and miss the 1903 to Peterborough.
Just as well, cause I needed some cash and decided to take some cash out of the nearest cashpoint.
Only to realise, mid-withdrawal, that I had left my mobile back at the café! Rush! Rush! Back to the café (next to Trafalgar Square) where – phew! – no-one had nicked it. Then back to the station for a coffee, and the discovery that I hadn’t removed the cash from the cashpoint. £40 – which is a lot less than I sometimes withdraw, but enough to have me spiralling into major upset mode.
I tried lost property. Nada! I wandered the station and asked Information. Nothing. I wandered some more, mostly feeling like I just wanted to burst into tears.
Back home, I walked in and promptly tripped over again. I am tired or stressed or hormonal or some combination of all three.
Today, I was cut up not once, but twice by other drivers. I switched to absolute blind fury.
Yep. This is weird. Scary weird!
So I am listening to the voices that say take some time (espesh as I can see now that almost every remaining day has something in it (not all big stuff…but stuff all the same). I will be kicking back and taking the time for a little self-pampering.