You know there’s an old saying about being careful what you wish for? I distinctly remember writing a post in the blog about my life becoming increasingly mundane, and having no stories of consequence to tell. I think it’s fair to say that situation changed somewhat over the last few days.
In times past I might have rambled on for a couple of pages recounting the last few days. Perhaps this marks a change in pace for the blog, because I’m not about to do that.
I will say my feet haven’t touched the ground for the last four or five days. Today has been the first day we really slowed down at all. Who knew that attending parties would become such hard work? Who knew we would look forward to just sitting indoors, eating leftovers, drinking tea, and watching rubbish on the television?
Of course I didn’t really get to sit and do nothing all day – the washing machine has been fed load after load of washing, the sink has been filled again and again with cups, plates, pots, and pans, and I found myself walking into town and back on an emergency run to make packed lunches through to the end of the school year.
Maybe the last few days have been a reminder of how much I struggle in social situations. Sure, I can fake being the funny, genial stranger that’s interested in your story, but more often than not, that’s a tactic. I’m pretty sure most people that others think of as “good listeners” are doing the same thing.
Anyway. I didn’t mean to start psychoanalysing myself and others. I’ll put it down to tiredness, and an easy slide into self-absorbed navel gazing.
It feels like we’re not so much striding confidently towards Christmas this year, as staggering in preparation for a final lunge, where we land in a broken heap at the foot of 2017, gazing up in horror at the thought of having to do it all over again.