This is how it is right now.
Yesterday was a glorious, crisp, sunny day; the heart-full kind, and then there was a swollen autumn moon that rose in true spooky fashion, between swathes of cloud, as we ate dinner last night. The benefit of having a glass wall; you see the moon come up as you eat your cauliflower cheese. Today it’s raining. I went for a run this morning and it felt heavy-footed and hard, I was wishing every moment would pass as I followed my usual track. I logged my route on Strava and then lamented at how all of my peers are running faster than me. Story of my life?! I am a slow runner. Slow and steady wins the race. I was always on the side of the tortoise.
My blog gets about 100 spam comments per night, which each morning I diligently go through and delete. They muddy the water and I wonder what is the point? It’s all about viagra. There’s one particularly persistent one named ‘Benny Nasty’. I wish Benny would give it up.
‘Nanowrimo’ is a week in and I’m keeping to my word count each day which pleases me greatly. This morning I woke at 5am and was full of words and concepts I wanted to capture; this is a good sign. The direction I was given last week like gold dust, I hang on to it and try to shape and mould this book into something that someone will like.
I think about shopping too much and covet obscure Danish brands who make clothes that are different to those British people wear. I calculate the Euro conversion rate (which incidentally is shit; thanks Brexit) and press ‘add to cart’ a lot; rarely checkout.
My daughter was away for the weekend and the house felt empty without her. I want to galvanise myself for when she goes for real, a time way off in the future when she will travel or go to Uni and I feel my heart constrict. My ambition for her knows no bounds, but the reality of its result will be hard to bear.
I wrote an article about generational feminism, as in my perception vs. my daughter’s and punted it around; I’m waiting for responses from blogzines. Wouldn’t be it be lovely if someone wanted to publish it?
I try to avoid any mention of Christmas and physically recoiled when I heard on the radio that someone had put their tree up already. Wtaf?!
It’s well into rugby season as I had to stand and watch, as my son got a sideways, rhino-stampede-style-tackle that floored him on Sunday. I kept my poker face. Brownie points for the rugby Mum; don’t react, it’s all a game.
Do what you have to do!
*I just rewatched the video of Guns N Roses ‘November Rain‘ with which I was obsessed, circa 1992; Stephanie Seymour in that wedding dress, Slash and his guitar solo in the desert, the tragedy, the hair. Rock and Roll.