So, yes this is late. Because I am late. Perpetually it feels these days. And tired, is anyone else always tired? Partially physical, and until I get my insides chopped up and actually get to eat properly, I have to accept that is not going to change. But just brain tired – tired of media and computers and tech and news and constantly being bombarded by information. To the point when people I love tell me important, life changing things, I just go into a weird overload inspired meltdown which takes me days to process through. So that’s fun, gee thanks 21st Century. I’ve even started watching television. I don’t mean Netflix. I mean actually ‘terrestrial’ tv. Things like ‘Masterchef’ and ‘Endeavour’ (#i❤️morse) actually AT THE TIME OF BROADCAST. This hasn’t happened for a long time. I’m just too tired to leave the room and do something more constructive with my time.
It also means when people do things like tell me about their relationships or dating lives, I think “that sounds delightful but exhausting. I’ll skip that.”
So needless to say I remain a fun human being to be around. And my two separate weeks of holiday cannot come soon enough. It seems like decades ago that I started the year full of joie de vivre and a belief that 2018 would be the year we collectively got our shit together. That was three months ago. That kind of determined positivity doesn’t half burn out quickly.
What all this ramble is leading up to is a bland belief that I couldn’t be arsed to do resolutions this month. That I should be kind to my sad little inner monster and stop poking it to make changes it really had little interest in making. And then I remembered that the reason I kept trying to tweak the Mann that I’ve become is because primarily I need to make changes because, hellawoman, I like myself enough not to wallow in sedentary defeat that “this” is as good as “it” gets.
So here are this month’s brain fumblings. Some so far are massive failures, but need to change:
1) stop putting off medical and dental appointments: having emergency fillings late at night isn’t fun. Nor are the many, many letters explaining the horrors of cervical cancer. So as a start to this I need to a) find a dentist and stop my wisdom teeth destroying my mouth and b) get a *whispers* smear test. And then I will sort out everything else.
2) go to things on my own. At this moment I should be at a gig, watching the delightful Thomas Truax. I got half way and then realised I was so tired I couldn’t get up the stairs at Highbury and Islington station. So I got on the overground back to Cronx. And now I feel a bit shitty about it. Where I am gradually getting back to is that if i was going with someone else I knew was really looking forward to the gig, I wouldn’t let them down. So if I am looking forward to a gig, why would I let myself down? That feels like pressure but it’s a good check in at the moment.
3) write more. I sat last night and wrote a letter. An actual friggin pen’n’paper letter people. And it was joyful. I also realised that my handwriting has turned to shit. But just to put my head-burblings down on paper to a friend already made things better. As does word-barfing on a blog post. My mum (“hi mum” *waves*) suggested gently that I often try to be too clever; that my tendency to be deliberately obtuse clouds wordage and, I would suggest, means I generally come off as less sincere than I mean to be. At least that’s what I interpreted her comments as. She probably was just accusing me of being a smart arse, which to be fair is also likely justified. So less clever, more feelz. Now isn’t that something to look forward to… *wink*