So I've not posted anything in a while, for various reasons.
Firstly it was my birthday last week, so I was doing lots of party-planning and lots of trying not to be depressed (I have a tendency to suffer from the Birthday Blues). Also, I've been quite ill and have been in bed with a fever for the last few days, stuffed to the brim with Night Nurse.
But I'm also avoiding blogging slightly. I think being honest with myself right now is a little dangerous - I'm dealing with the Darcy situation by just pretending I'm fine and everything is normal (it's not denial. It's good old fashioned deal-with-it-ness) and much as it may be a bit of a fascade, it appears to be working. So I don't want any secret sadness slipping out accidentally, thank you very much. (Hmm that may have been me talking to my subconscious there, which is a little worrying).
Anyway dealing-with-it-ness seems to be working perfectly well, except for one small thing. I keep crying on buses. I don't know what that's all about, I never cry on buses - who cries on buses? Well, me, evidently. Honestly, for the last few weeks I've found myself leaving the house to go to work, or for a drink, or whatever, putting in my ipod, lighting up a cig, walking to the bus stop - so far, so good. Everything fine. I sit at the bus stop, check my phone, maybe smile at whoever's also waiting for the bus (although mostly not - have you seen the weirdos you find in bus shelters?) But still, fine. I'm probably listening to something upbeat, the Noisettes new album maybe. So I take a seat on the bus, humming away to some lovely souly Noisettes track "I'm not who I was last Summer, and I don't wear the same robes in May - damn this wild young heart, damn this wild young heart.." and as the scenery starts to move and change, I feel my eyes well up and a desperate need to burst into tears. I then spend the rest of the bus journey trying not to cry, and trying not to make it look like I'm trying not to cry. Then the second I get off the bus and get to wherever it is I was going, I'm fine again. It's the strangest thing.
Anyway what am I talking about? I'm going to blame the fever and delirium for this entry, and subsequently put myself to bed.
Goodnight. Good Night Nurse.
Firstly it was my birthday last week, so I was doing lots of party-planning and lots of trying not to be depressed (I have a tendency to suffer from the Birthday Blues). Also, I've been quite ill and have been in bed with a fever for the last few days, stuffed to the brim with Night Nurse.
But I'm also avoiding blogging slightly. I think being honest with myself right now is a little dangerous - I'm dealing with the Darcy situation by just pretending I'm fine and everything is normal (it's not denial. It's good old fashioned deal-with-it-ness) and much as it may be a bit of a fascade, it appears to be working. So I don't want any secret sadness slipping out accidentally, thank you very much. (Hmm that may have been me talking to my subconscious there, which is a little worrying).
Anyway dealing-with-it-ness seems to be working perfectly well, except for one small thing. I keep crying on buses. I don't know what that's all about, I never cry on buses - who cries on buses? Well, me, evidently. Honestly, for the last few weeks I've found myself leaving the house to go to work, or for a drink, or whatever, putting in my ipod, lighting up a cig, walking to the bus stop - so far, so good. Everything fine. I sit at the bus stop, check my phone, maybe smile at whoever's also waiting for the bus (although mostly not - have you seen the weirdos you find in bus shelters?) But still, fine. I'm probably listening to something upbeat, the Noisettes new album maybe. So I take a seat on the bus, humming away to some lovely souly Noisettes track "I'm not who I was last Summer, and I don't wear the same robes in May - damn this wild young heart, damn this wild young heart.." and as the scenery starts to move and change, I feel my eyes well up and a desperate need to burst into tears. I then spend the rest of the bus journey trying not to cry, and trying not to make it look like I'm trying not to cry. Then the second I get off the bus and get to wherever it is I was going, I'm fine again. It's the strangest thing.
Anyway what am I talking about? I'm going to blame the fever and delirium for this entry, and subsequently put myself to bed.
Goodnight. Good Night Nurse.
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