Summer is gone. Instead, the rain has come and washed over its last traces, making me cringe inside and not feel like leaving the house. Fortunately, Sam is with me and I have to walk him, otherwise, I would have invented any number of excuses not to get wet. I don’t have rubber boots any more, I threw them out when I moved, suddenly they felt ugly and dirty (they were red!) and I couldn’t be bothered to clean them up. haha! Now I need to find a pair of black ones, so the dirt won’t show.
This days all I ever feel like doing is write, but it seems I have nothing to write about. It feels like stories are buried under my skin, where the thought can’t touch them, they need to be lured out and I don’t know how. Also I don’t feel like disclosing anything about anyone close to me, so all I can write about is me, but I don’t exist in a void, I’m a contextual person, so you see my dilemma.
The rain depresses me, I hate getting wet. There’s a grey mist outside my window and the cobwebs are heavy with rain drops. Some days I could give up the whole city for the prospect of living in a house with a small garden. I miss having a cat and I miss having a garden. I grew up in a house with my grandma until I was 13. There were not many flowers to speak of in our garden, but we had the freedom to step outside and sit under the quince tree. In spring the lilac tree was in bloom and in summer we could pick sour cherries straight from the tree. And the quinces started ripening about this time of year. It’s amazing how that never leaves me, I have this recurrent memory of sitting under the quince tree in a T-shirt, dangling my legs.
I should get going. I have lots of errands to run and no energy whatsoever. I could sleep the fall away.
I feel like watching Spirited Away in bed, with a giant ice-cream bucket in my lap and Beo by my side. I´ve just turned 36 and, although I had a lovely birthday- flowers and champagne included- it was also tearful, with a touch of bitterness. I sat down for the first time with my soon to be ex-husband and we had a glass of wine, talking about old stuff and new stuff, like each other´s significant other, and it was so good and so absurd, it could have been a scene in one of these modern dramas.
These days, my favourite time of the day is when I´m not awake. It´s when I don´t feel a thing, or at least I don´t know that I do. I sleep with my head under the covers, so as not to let the cold slip in.
The snow has managed to put a lid on my emotions and I feel passive and tired yet again. In a way it´s preferable to this tornado of sentiments that I don´t know what to do with anyways. Let it be sleep. I could sleep for a couple of months. Just let things slide by.
Phew, I´m turning sane again! Thought I´d never get there again.. I´m reading a book, a crappy detective story, don´t even know if it´s bad in the original language- English, or if it´s just the translation into Norwegian, but who cares, the story is solid enough and I´m curious to see who the murderer is. 😉
I also cooked, for the second time in over 3 weeks now, just some pasta, but at least I managed the deed. Made some sugar coated almonds the other day, too. I´m on the right track. Thank God, I was starting to loose it entirely! Lacking sleep, hardly eating and not having very high thoughts of myself. Continue reading
How are you? I´ve had a productive start on this week, attended a two-days conference on HIV and made a new friend, too. (And a stalker, for that matter.) A couple of colleagues interpreted into English and so I spent both days listening to them and felt my chest raise with pride! Wow, the things we can do, it´s amazing! I won´t pretend to be at the same level as they are, I´m relatively new at this job and irrespective of my endeavour to be noticed, there aren´t as many conferences in Romanian! 😉 Not in Norway, at least. 😉 Continue reading