Monday, 27 July 2015

Breathing and Cheese

I feel like I can finally breathe again.

I'm on the other side of a massive, huge, enormous work task. Months of planning, preparation, tears, and work came to its conclusion recently, and I finally have time to just be.

Everyone has noticed. A spent a lot of last weekend laughing at me, remembering that I sing a lot when I'm happy. G has stopped looking at me with a perpetually worried look in his eyes, and happily told me that it's good to have Usual Alice back. D bought me bubbles, P sent me flowers. It's over, it's done.

And I finally have chance to catch up with my loves. On Friday night, A and I went to the National Theatre to see Everyman- which is quite possibly the best thing I've seen on stage since War Horse. And Saturday night was spent behaving badly with A, B, C, D, and E. (Yes, we have abcedarian names. No, it's not deliberate).

And last Wednesday, Emily and Ellie and I caught up over pizza, dip, and all the cheese I could carry. 

We watched The Other Woman and agreed that Barber's cheddar is quite possibly the best cheddar we've ever tried. In fact, we ate more of that than we did of the comté or brie. And that's saying quite a lot, coming from someone whose life more or less revolves around the next opportunity she has to eat cheese. But it really is just that tasty- just how a cheddar should be.

And other than that? I've been pottering along. Trying to remember which day of the week it is, an d that I can go home at a normal time again. It's a most peculiar feeling.

So tell me. What have you been up to?

Barber's very kindly sent me a rather large amount of cheese to try. While the cheese was free, my opinions are, of course, all my own.

Wednesday, 24 June 2015

Morning Thoughts

It's early. I was at my desk by 7:45- not unheard of at the moment, and not painful because of my morning person tendencies- but still, frustrating. 

I carried my handbag, full of fruit and a pot of yoghurt for a desk-breakfast. And my running kit, as I'd promised I would. We'd agreed we'd run together. I'm not sure why I agreed- perhaps a strange kind of emotional masochism?

I sat opposite a woman I'd seen before. Painfully thin, she gets off at my stop, and I've seen her around the building. I have no idea who she is, or what she does, but we've sat opposite each other on a number of occasions. 

And today, a new face. A good looking guy in cycling clothes (on the tube?), who I spot sneaking glances at me. We get off at the same stop and he follows me down the street. I don't notice when he turns off, but I suddenly notice he's no longer behind me, and wonder. 

I get to the office. Doors unlocked, swipe access only. I was the last out last night, but G returned to lock up. I'm the second in this morning, and revel in the silence. Just me, my PC, and the clock noisily ticking away, reminding me that half of my team are likely to still be in bed. 

I breathe. Log in. And prepare. 

Tuesday, 9 June 2015

Morning Thoughts

Things have been strange lately. Some serious dramas have led to me pulling back from an awful lot of things- Facebook went about five weeks ago, this blog was taken down for a wee while, and about the only social media channel I was regularly updating was Instagram.

It seemed for a while that things wouldn't be the same ever again.

To be honest, it has actually become clear lately that they won't be. 

But this morning, I got up early. I crept downstairs, fed the cat, and made a cup of tea. I waited until my brother, E, appeared, and went to chatter to him as he got ready for work.

And it was this morning, as E sat on the stairs singing, and I danced in the hallway to the sound of his voice, that I realised. Things might be weird. Change might be afoot.

But as long as we have each other, we have it all.

Tuesday, 26 May 2015


Found here
Why is it so much easier to write about difficult feelings and tricky decisions than it is to write about happiness?

I'm unbearably happy at the moment. So much so, it makes me nervous, and I find myself saying to A "You aren't going to leave, are you?". I tried to push him away by being horrible once. He just gave me a cuddle and asked if I was okay. Proof, if I ever needed it, that he probably isn't going anywhere just yet.

I think it's also that reading about how happy people are is actually a little boring. We like tragedy. We like drama. We like the stories about men who don't call after a date, about kissing inappropriate married men, about friends who are no longer friends, about incestuous webs of friends who have all slept together or lived together (these are all conversations I've had in the last six months or so).

We don't like stories about the way he and I do the crossword on the tube home, or the stories about how I fall asleep on his shoulder when we're watching Eurovision, or how we spent Monday morning making avocado and poached eggs on toast. It's not interesting. It's twee.

So what do I write about?

I'm bored of reading blog posts about lipsticks and wishlists. I'm bored of posts about products that clearly wouldn't have chosen unless they were sent for free.

So it leaves me here. Posting once in a blue moon about nothing in particular. Other than to tell you that lately, I feel like I have really found my people. Those people I'd run to whether I was happy or sad or needed help or needed a laugh. Their initials are oddly alphabetical. A. B. B. C. C. C. D. E. J. M. Occasionally there's a G in there too, though often not. Some live close by. Some live far away. ALL make me hideously happy. I spend little time with people who make me feel anything less than phenomenal- I've had friendships in the past that have made me feel dreadful about myself, where I find myself constantly competing, comparing, and finding myself wanting. 

Is this it? Is this what happiness is? Feeling content, and peaceful, and generally smiling rather than feeling anxious and confused?

Of course, it's worth noting that there's an element of this that is a medicated happiness. That a huge part of me fears the fact that this is a medicated happiness. Is it real? Is it an illusion?

I like to think it's real. I suppose only time will tell.

And there was a five-month saga, that left me confused and battered and bruised.  That left me feeling baffled and happy and rejected and empowered and Always guilty. I have to keep reminding myself that I genuinely did nothing wrong. I was always honest, never cruel. But regardless, it has now finally, absolutely been put to rest, and the weight that has been lifted from my shoulders as a result is palpable.


What do you want to talk about today?