It’s been a strange old few weeks… I feel like I could say that about the entire year. It’s been strange but in a different way to the way last year was strange.
On the whole though, they’ve been rather delightful. Less of the existential ennui (although I still don’t know what I want to do with my life) and more of a very pleasant alignment feeling… like this is where I’m meant to be even if I don’t know what’s coming next.
It’s like writing the dream book. I don’t know what it’s going to end up as, but I’m writing it any way because I feel like I should, and more to the point, I want to. Even if nothing ever happens with it, I needed to write it anyway. I’m doing things that I don’t entirely know the motivation for, only that they’re the right things to do.
Especially making the famous chocolate mud cake for Lunchbox’s recent birthday, that was 192% the right thing to do.
Re-starting Sweet Teen Club was the right thing to do (god that thing makes me happier than Pacey was when Joey chose him over Dawson).
Going for a 7km walk through the Rushworth Forest hunting for wildflowers last weekend was the right thing to do.
Probably eating the entire batch of chatter’s crack I made recently wasn’t the right thing to do dental-wise, but damn it’s delicious.
I’m kind of glad I’m documenting these days in written form because I kind of forget what has happened. Whilst I’ve had pleasant days with a pleasant vibe I’ve also felt a bit off with the fairies and if you’d told me that two weeks ago I re-painted Van Gogh’s Starry Night at 9am on a Tuesday I’d totally believe you because I don’t know where my brain’s at. It’s entirely possible (except for that bit where I’ve got absolutely no creative talent paint-wise so I probably couldn’t have painted it after all). I’ve been sleeping as if I were drugged, with nutso dreams to match. I’m tired all the time. Like, all the time. Things are weird but not altogether unpleasant. Except for the tiredness.
I wonder if that’s why I can’t get through Cloudstreet. I started reading it a few weeks ago but it’s just not doing it for me (sorry, Tim). I’m going to have to pop it back on the shelf along with these guys I couldn’t get through. I can barely concentrate anyway thanks to the fluff in my head so perhaps when I’m feeling better I will give it a second shot.
One thing I don’t have to be fully functioning to understand is my contempt for the weather at the moment. The sunny days are peeking back in but mostly it’s just fucking cold and wet. Going out in it every single day to drag home two unco-operative children from school is about more than I can bear right now. I’m sure I have a face like thunder as I trudge through the school gates knowing I’m going to be met with whining and and crying while I stand uncomfortably in arctic winds. I think there’s a point every year where I’m like ‘ENOUGH, I’M DONE’ with winter regardless of how hard I’ve tried to pull on my boots and get on with it. That time is now.
But I shall put on a load of washing and have a cup of tea and probably bake something and that will get me in a better headspace to ride out the bits I don’t love while I wait for the bits I do. That and maybe choose a new book from the shelf. Something light and funny. I’m probably going to forget I read it anyway.
(ps Peanut and Lulu say hi. They’re getting very big now and bossy to boot. They’re a hoot, but I wish they’d stop shitting right on my doorstep).