I do not even remember, though it this chronicle is now only a week behind, what I actually did with that long weekend. Go figure. I suspect that, once more, it was spent in a frenzy of Doing Stuff, during which, miraculously, close to sod-all got achieved. It was not spent at fightclub, alas; and it wasn’t even spent at a party, because come party time on Saturday I had the migraine from Hell from going at the Sums for twelve hours. And there was me with a card and gift and everything – and the certain knowledge that it would be social suicide to turn up and try and make Chat in that nick. (Besides, the four miles there, I can do – it’s the inevitable taxi home that’s the problem, and I Must. Not. Spend. Because I see I just bought new boots cos the old ones are worn out by the ice already. Goddamn, seventeen quid down the spout!)
But, Sunday? Monday? Tuesday? Not a clue, not a scoobie what I got up to, and I don’t even have any booze that could possibly account for it.
No! I know! I spent my time cooking and reading up on financial health tips and mental health tips (Dr Raj Persaud’s Staying Sane . The former were not quite so useful, but only because I knew most of them already (except that bit about making your own furniture polish by putting a dod of olive oil and lemon juice on a cloth – the desk in the spare room, which I thought nothing could put a shine on, came up a treat after I’d left that rubbed in all night! Oh balls, I just officially got Sad. Oh alright, it happened years ago.) Ahem.
Anyway, the mental health tips were interesting and I heartily recommend the idea that we can take preventative action to look after our own mental health just as we would our hearts and lungs and other body parts (or, not, in my case). The guy who wrote this book heartily (sorry) recommends a proactive, preventative approach too, and waxed vocal about how mental ill-health should be destigmatised (because that doesn’t half make it more difficult to nip it in the bud) and coping-with-crisis methods should be taught at school, especially since mental health problems are among the number-one health problems in the western world.
So, though nothing productive got done, it may well have been a Preventative sort of long weekend. Besides, according to the quizzes in the book (administered by me, overseen by me, checked for accuracy by… me) I am Sodding Amazing at Everything and extremely mentally healthy! (And here I thought I was just mental.)
But that is okay, because apparently having a slightly pessimistic view of the world, but the secret conviction that you yourself are the best thing since mammoths is a bit of a protective cushioning. As long as you don’t take it too far and declare yourself Jesus or something, or you’ll have all the protective padding you could want, oh my yes.
And so… back to work. Remain calm, do not panic, that’s the windows at the front (finally) all done up and the Sums have some (haha) what moved along. Just three days to get five days’ work done! And a trip to the clinic to get blood tests ahead of Operation Frankenstein (Part IV, heh, like an IV drip, or having a half-pint of blood removed from your vein, in fact) and fill in all the forms which have been Redone since Part III, so that’s half the day gone already. No, now come on, you just read up on how Not to stress out, didn’t you, ahahaha, now go forth and apply your knowledge, woman!
Well, I guess these things take time to learn, just like anything else.
Damn unfortunate timing that on Hellday, a record number of peeps had to be given Really Bad News. I mean, mostly, it turns out to be heartburn, and I would rather type a thousand letters on heartburn than listen to the poor wee junior who had to break the news sounding sadder and sadder and sadder, as the patients got younger and younger and the news got worse and worse. What possible comfort can I take away from that, other than, ‘glad I’m not (yet) them’, or, ‘glad I’m not in his shoes?’ That would be horrible!
Of course, Hellday was the first day of glorious, cloudless blue skies I have seen yet. There is a god, and there is probably a punchline somewhere in the offing too.
I was too bummed even to sit with wine and ruminate on how very bummed I was. I made a big risotto instead. After showing round a very lovely Latvian couple. Bless, they wanted to take the place straight away, but on hearing that they had only been to see precisely One flat, (mine), I told them they should at least check some properties in the west end that the lassie is keen on before making a decision.
And this is why I never come out on top.
On the plus side, today is Friday, I have a long weekend, I have miraculously got my feet absolutely clear at work, and I am… well, I am going to bed, frankly.