If we were having coffee, conversation would stall because we would be too distracted by TV. I’m not watching, but can’t think about anything else while it’s on.
The ads are not much better — perhaps it’s just my mood. When I really want to, I can drown it out and focus on what I’m writing.
What’s annoying is when you get the feeling there was something else you were supposed to be doing, but you can’t pull your thoughts together enough to remember what it was. Instead, you keep staring at the TV, even though the panellists are cracking jokes you mostly don’t think are funny.
Come to think of it, there were lots of things I should have been doing, such as:
1. Painting a tree that the tree outside my window complains looks more like a tiger.
2. Several other pictures I abandoned, and they weren’t looking all that bad.
3. Writing to Apple (something about a bug report).
4. An online CBT session I should have done on Friday.
5. Keeping up with CBT homework, which includes noting my mood every two hours.
Actually, not doing my CBT homework is the main reason I’m avoiding the next session. I got a nagging email that says we will get the best from it if we complete one session a week. I don’t know why waiting another week should ruin the flow of it, especially if I already ruined the flow of it by not doing my homework.
Mood for 22:00…. rattled.
The TV has been turned off, thankfully, but a cat has come in and is sitting at my feet staring at me… as a result, I’m no less distracted than I was previously.
I asked why people keep mocking Piers Morgan, and Mum said, “Nobody likes him.”
“Why… what did he do?”
You can’t really laugh along with them when you know they’re making digs at someone you know nothing about… that’s just one of the things I wasn’t finding amusing. You look at people on TV who have their own in-jokes, and feel alienated from most of them… does that qualify as a ‘mood’ too?
It’s not surprising, I guess; in-jokes are a bonding mechanism. If you don’t know what people are nudging each other about, it makes you realize you’re not one of them. Perhaps most people watching the show understand these attitudes and inferences, and that thought makes me feel even more ‘out of it’. I suppose I could google Piers Morgan but don’t want to. Live and let live.
Nursing your coffee in the other chair, you are nodding politely, but I can tell you are wondering what rock I’ve been living under! Well, I was not too far from Castle Rock once upon a time. I still love the city of Edinburgh. We visited it a little while ago but I wonder if I will ever see it again? I doubt it. The very name ‘Edinburgh’ feels like home, and that’s enough, really.
The nagging feeling of distraction is persisting. Let me just take care of these cats for a moment…
Samson jumped eagerly into his bed… heart-warming. 🙂 Now that we’re all sorted out for the night, I feel more focused… slightly. More coffee?
I’m still not following the little timetable I made. I got tired and stressed on Friday after being unable to sleep. The next day I was a zombie and nearly got run over twice, so the timetable naturally took a back seat. I had a strong feeling I was going to continue to ignore it, and decided I should simplify it a great deal.
I did that this morning and was suitably smug, feeling I might successfully complete my CBT homework this week. Well guess what… I forgot it again. I forgot such a plan even existed. I’ve only missed one planned activity, which was to back up my iPad and sort though my burgeoning Gmail inbox, but even one black mark makes me feel the entire week has gone down the chute.
I paint like that too. Stroke, erase; stroke, erase… I can spend a few minutes on that, and it’s not surprising I never finish anything. The pictures I do finish have usually taken weeks or months. A few times I’ve tried speed painting tutorials but nothing changes! Before you know it, I’m back to teasing away with a tiny brush, determined that not one single pixel will be out of place, even if I have to repaint it a gazillion times.
Then I wonder why I’ve been pushed into doing this CBT thing!
It’s unsettling when you realize that if your life had a reset button, allowing you to return the start and try all over again, you would push it in a flash. This life wasn’t perfect… maybe I’d do it right next time?
No, I realize I wouldn’t. I would feel exactly the same, know exactly what I knew (no more and no less), and think and say the same things. I’d still be me.
I find myself asking questions, though. If my life had a reset button and I could go back to the very beginning… born a younger daughter living under the Rock, forced to go on fishing holidays in damp cottages; fretting over how people managed to do beautiful drawings on Etcha-Sketches… presumably everybody that I’ve even walked past would have to go all the way back to the beginning as well, just so they could accompany me. All of you out there reading this blog… you’d be whooshed back to square one and made to start all over again. If you even realized what had happened, I expect I’d be surrounded by a blogging lynch platoon right now.
More coffee? I’ll try and get it right this time.
PS: I must have caught something in town as I’m running a temperature and my teeth are aching. Definitely no CBT for a week! It would be interesting to know if ‘distraction’ is a symptom of this kind of bug. I should write to Apple, though — Pages is no fun to write in just now.
If we were having coffee, I would apologize for not being around so much recently. Being polite, you would ask what I’ve been up to, and I would say well, nothing much. However, on a flip-through of my journal for the month of April, the following is revealed:
LET’S PRETEND THIS NEVER HAPPENED
I was sorting books (yet again) and found:
‘Let’s Pretend This Never Happened‘ (Jenny Lawson)
“…she learns that life’s most absurd and humiliating moments, the ones we wish we could pretend had never happened, are the very same moments that make us who we are.”
I often get cold feet about my own blog. I do value it, so could try again with a simple coffee post.
KEEPING WHAT’S MOST PRECIOUS
I want to keep the large padded footstool if possible, and had the sudden impulse to stick a blue Post-It note on it. That reminded me of Frasier telling his father and brother to put labels on the things they most wanted to inherit. The father thought it was a bad idea, and refused, but Niles had great fun sticking labels everywhere.
Looking around the internet, I find a lot of people fall asleep during Blade Runner. I was no exception. When I woke I was very confused… I thought it was morning, and wondered if Mum had got up yet. I couldn’t remember seeing her today at all, or anything else that might have happened. Slowly it came back to me that she had indeed got up, and had done things like set the robohoover to work.
OUT OF THE LOOP
I’m disoriented these days. It’s intensified because small plans are mooted, then suddenly change and I’m not informed, and I find myself working towards something that’s not going to happen, or isn’t going to happen the way I think, which changes everything…. It’s funny how people leave you out of the loop, then look at you as though you’re the bat with crazy ideas.
A SIMPLE MISUNDERSTANDING INVOLVING COFFEE
Mum’s just got up from her nap and is drinking caffeine-free instant coffee. She hasn’t drunk instant for years, so that took me by surprise. I didn’t even realize it was caffeine-free… I just thought it was good thinking on her part to buy a replacement when I was about to run out. I ran out today… so (feeling somewhat cheated) I said “we need more.”
I now have a silver tin, while Mum has the gold. Why does ‘caff free’ get to be gold??
*SPOILER* — ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE (A.I.)
Part-way through watching the Artificial Intelligence AI DVD on Mum’s TV while she was napping, which I’m not encouraged to do, I got tired minutes before she reappeared. I turned it off and left the TV on, so all she saw was snooker, which she’s still watching.
I love the teddy in AI… that’s why I bought it. The part of the story that’s painful is how the robo-boy has been imprinted on one human (his ‘mother’) and that’s an irreversible process, even though he’s likely to live a lot longer. If returned to Cybertronics after imprinting, they would have to destroy him. Rather than do that, they abandoned him in a wood with Teddy, and told him for his own safety not to go to Cybertronics or any large group of people.
But was that kind?
At the end of the film, it was easier for the boy to lose her forever while knowing he was loved, than to lose her heart and her mind… even knowing she was still alive somewhere. I didn’t understand that when I saw it before, but think now that I do.
Part of the problem with people now is that they expect perfection. All you need to do is check out one of those B&B TV reality shows… they knock marks off if there’s no TV or they have to share a bathroom, and they complain about dustbin men at 6 a.m.
Then there’s the perennial “there was a small spider in the corner.”
It makes you wonder.
EXPRESSING MYSELF… OR NOT!
I need to be consistent in myself, and that means doing what comes naturally to me. Saying what seems right to me. I’m confused enough without there being added confusion… an alien dynamic.
I run into fears I might overdo emails. After all, people are busy. Or they do all their communicating on diddly little iPod Shuffles. So I delay my responses, cut down a lot, and do so much self-editing that the authentic me isn’t coming though.
BRIEF FLASH OF ENLIGHTENMENT
From my horoscope for April 25:
“Nearly everyone seems on edge today…. Unfortunately, you could inadvertently kick a hornet’s nest if you are careless with your words. Author Pearl Cleage wrote, “Discomfort is always a necessary part of the process of enlightenment.””
Overnight I had a Eureka moment that I’ve since forgotten. I don’t know if it was real or dreamed…
I hoovered downstairs (and the stairs themselves) and polished the tables, and felt tired the whole time, as though doing it was little short of a nightmare! I hope that book about the art of Japanese tidying is right when it says that when you finally get your possessions down to a more manageable level and tidy them away into their designated spaces, keeping the whole house clean will be easier and more fun.
“Those items that bring you the most joy, such as your divorce certificate, should be kept in your power spot. Every house will have its own power spot. To find yours, close your eyes and joyously chant: “Where’s my power spot?” If the answer does not come to you then you aren’t chanting joyously enough.”
A little while ago my iMac failed… or rather, one small component in it failed, which means the whole 27″ 30.5 lb weight of it (and some of the software on it) is scrap. I used to paint in that corner; create and maintain databases, organize my photo collection, back up my iPad, listen to music…
I haven’t been there since the iMac failed, and have felt confused and disgruntled ever since. I got a new computer but haven’t turned it on. I don’t know if it will run the software I’m used to running, and the thought of installing it all over again makes me not want to go through the process at all. However, without that resource, I don’t feel ‘me’ any more.
It’s time I addressed that, and brought my ‘power spot’ back into play. Today.
HELPING THE GRASS GROW
The hill out the back gets manure put on it annually. You go out into the garden and it’s suddenly reeking. I have thought a few times the cats were overdoing it…
BOOKS AND HAPPINESS
A while ago when I suggested buying Sharpe books on Kindle for her birthday, Mum said no, she can’t concentrate enough on reading.
More recently, I took a pile of books downstairs to go to charity, and some time later thought “that’s funny, the pile looks smaller!” I peeked in Mum’s room, and she’d taken a book (The Vital Spark) and put it in her book rack.
That made me happy. 🙂
She’s also finished a slim library book by Ann Cleeves and bought herself a Kindle book.
It all makes me happy and I feel calmer. Also, today it was sunny. Rather cold, but the sun was gold on the trees and blossoms… just lovely.
I’ll miss it here.
If we were having coffee, we would be a bit quiet — the heavy weather has been sending everybody to sleep. In some way I’ve regressed — it’s as though I’ve slipped and fallen into last autumn, even though it’s supposed to be summer. It keeps raining, day after day and week after week. There’s flooding again, and the drains in the centre of town overfilled and spilled in puddles. It’s dark, so my thoughts regressed to a cooler, quieter time. Just coffee and a dull room — and now you.
You weren’t here last year. My blog was quiet for a long time. Months and years of rain in this forgotten space.
There’s been more energy in our lives, lately. Perhaps it was the sun? I was busy sorting books, and our collection is manageable now… nearly!… but today, all of a sudden, I left them and walked away.
Sitting over there with your mug, I understood you were wondering about my reserve, so I told you my weekend started early because I was tired. You laughed and said everybody’s tired because of the atmospheric pressure. Well I’m glad it’s not just me. I was so busy, then suddenly… How about you? Did you do nothing? Perhaps you half-heartedly tried to run a meeting on Friday, only members were not-so secretly snoring?
This is why I plunged back to the end of last year, to a time when I was less motivated.
A few days ago I told people, “I hope it doesn’t rain from now all the way through autumn like last year,” thinking, “surely it won’t!” … but I have a terrible feeling it will. I will be getting stern reports about moss on the roof again. For goodness sake, it’s a wet country. Might be nice to have a moss garden up there, with fairy cottages, fern trees and toadstools.
How about you — do you like gardening, or miniatures, or both in combination? On Pinterest I follow pin-boards showing the fairy houses and cabins that people build in the great outdoors. I don’t have any such property in my possession — I just like to view them.
It’s a secret place of mine… in my head I have a log cabin of my own where no one can ever find me — not unless I want them to. In my forest, I disappear into the rain, moss and silence, so you would think this weather would suit me down to the ground.
It does suit my boy cat, who loves sloshing around. The other night he bounded merrily in through the flap, dripping in mud — the creature from the black lagoon. It’s easy to imagine him preying on the squirrels around my imaginary cabin, so I don’t suppose I could hide from him even if I wanted to. I’d turn around and there he would be, grinning in through the window — “how about a wee nibble, hmm? Something nice and filling.”
I know you are still tired, and my blethering has put you to sleep, so it’s time for me to let you go. Come back for coffee again some time — maybe the rain will have stopped by then.
If we were having coffee, you would have a red cat on your knee and a notebook to write on, and we would be writing notes back and forth. Probably we would be fighting over the black cat pen — who had it last?? I thought you had your own pen!! Peeve.
There would be a fresh shower of rain streaming down the windows, as it’s pretty wet these days… windows to front and back, so you would see a quiet street out the front and a hedge at the back with a lot of big trees. The pigeons would sit in the trees and look at you. They are always there, and sometimes a grey squirrel too.
Presumably you would be writing something like, “Well, this is nice, isn’t it, but a bit puzzling. How did I come to be here?”
I would take the cat pen and reply, “I think it’s my fault. I decided to try this hashtag thing — weekendcoffeeshare — without having a clue how hashtags actually work. I thought it would bring bloggers to my page, not here to have coffee with me. Don’t get me wrong, it is nice to meet you, but I do hope you will excuse the mess…”
And you would write, “Oh, the mess is fine. Just don’t do it again, that’s all! I am not quite sure how I’m going to get back now. Thingy will be wondering where I disappeared to.”
I would say, “I don’t know. If you know how to work hashtags, it might be the way home for you?”
And you would say, “Sorry, I don’t know a thing about hashtags. Never use them.”
There would be an awkward silence, then the red cat (Delilah) would stretch happily and dig her claws in, as she does love having someone new to
torture sit on.
You would say, in a relenting tone of scribble, “Since I am here, I’ve often wondered what you really look like behind that eskimo bear,” and I would say, “Well, as you see… there’s no eskimo bear! It’s upstairs, just sleeping.”
“Oh,” you would say, and “I guess you don’t look like an eskimo bear.”
And I would say, “You don’t look how I imagined, either.”
“What, doesn’t my picture look like me?”
“Noooooo…. you look…. more real.”
After another silence, you would say, “Don’t you think that eskimo bear photo is a bit outdated? You’ve had it since you first began blogging in 2005 or whenever. Now it looks kind of soft and old.”
I would start having a panic attack at the thought of just how old the bear is, the camera it was photographed with and the blog, and you hastily say, “Don’t worry! It’s all good.”
“OK,” I’d say. “Let me just get my iPad. Where did you say you lived again? I’ll look up the train times. Where?? OK… PLANE times. Oh, and take the bear with you, just as a souvenir. I feel the need for a brand new profile picture…”