Settling In, 30 Aug 12

Seriously, it must be easier to be a guy… there is a saying on my fridge, ‘I have had more trouble with myself than with any other person I have ever met.’ I bought that magnet, because it rang truer for me than any other fridge magnet I have ever come across. Here’s why: taking today for example; a Thursday. No, let’s make it even better and narrow it down further to only late Thursday afternoon… Finish off at work with an excellent annual review, great! Then go onto a poetry website and read a poem that pierces my soul and brings me into a somber state. Before leaving I manage to catch my boss and get her signature on a document, happy about that. Drive home in a car where I’m trying to find out whether or not it’s a lack of anti-freeze that’s draining my radiator, and I’m in an irritated state because I know so little about cars and their engines and I’m not associated with anyone who does. Driving along, while irritated becomes calmed down by my CD, I then get to an intersection and a beggar comes to my window and I start praying thanks for all the blessings in my life as simple as the food in my tummy and a bed to sleep in, while the other half of my brain and soul are feeling wretched that all these fancy cars at the traffic lights are driving past homeless people… it’s so unfair.

A stop at the supermarket, to get dinner for one, and the brain starts to wander into its own reverie, imagining it were dinner for two, and that then turns into telling myself off for setting myself up for disappointment and to just get on with the shop. Focus on the bargains and be happy with the savings, move on and don’t get lost in LaLa Land again. The lady at the till was so friendly that I was smiling again when I walked out the store.

Home to relax for a while before all the chores and I’m moved to pick up a poetry book, instead of the 3 novels or 4 self-interest books I’m currently in the middle of. (I do fascinate myself at how I’m actually following all of them! But it does add to how much trouble I give myself)… then I think it most odd that someone in her thirties would pick up a poetry anthology for ‘light’ reading, I can’t think of anyone in this 21st century who would do that. So I critically skim the poems, excited at finding some gems, whilst simultaneously being annoyed with myself for being a recluse and reading poetry randomly on a Thursday afternoon. So I put the book away and head off to a park for a walk, and while I’m walking my mind wonders back to an imaginary dinner for two, so I get irritated and look at the situation realistically with my workload, commitments, studies and other things on the go I don’t have time for dinner for two. Thus I bring my mind back to other commitments and try to think of ways to help some friends who are in unhappy spaces… this brings me home again… where the prior itchings of period pain become full blown and I recall how nasty I can be when in pain, then I change my roast dinner plans into baked potato and veggies, then the work plans for the evening are shelved and I end up in candlelight feeling completely drained, but when running through the emotions of the day I change to thinking I’m nuts and it’s better that I never had dinner for two, because I’d have to be canceling it right now and I wouldn’t be able to be miserable in my lounge about clothes… then I read another poem and it’s all about how a guy doesn’t understand a girl and I LAUGH OUT LOUD! Don’t worry Mr Poet, I don’t get us either, and I have an inside view. Still, it would’ve been nice to have someone else wash the dishes for a change…