Day 355: Time For Another Killing

This is just a picture

Put your hands in the air for my lymphatic system. It's done the job. Throat back to normal, lymph glands no longer tender, tiny tendency to do a cough from time to time (about 4 times a day), but nothing of any significance. Well done! I salute you. I kneel before you (the how of that is pretty good in the mind).

Thanks to Rob, today, who bumped our meeting time and didn't make a fuss when I was nearly ten minutes later than that, allowing me to go for a very welcome cold swim beforehand. I loved it. Blissful, the water. Rustley and musical, those oak leaves. They're not there every day, and sometimes they are there, but they're almost underwater, and softened. Today, floating on top, and making a richer sound than their physicality would suggest they should. Today, sunlight doing a show-off, doing dances on the water. Today, giving me realness on my skin. 

Yay! More grim-faced than ever!

Oh, and thank you too, Rob, for telling me that THE KILLING SERIES THREE STARTS ON SATURDAY. As my beloved, already-missed friend Victoria Sandison would say: YEEEEEEOOOOOOOAAAAAAARRRRRSSSS!

I'm really, truly grateful. I feel blessed. I notice that I'm all emotion today. Had to try hard not to cry a number of times. Maybe I just should have - then it would have been all out. Not sure quite what it's about - the usual things come up, of course, but they're very often, long-term true and sometimes I feel all open and hopeful and 'this is right'y - so maybe it's that unstable business getting to me again. As I say - it's chosen. 

This is not me

What will make a difference - well, finally getting enough of a grip on what I'm doing for work enough to make regular, good money and get somewhere I can afford even if I AM away, and somewhere I really feel joyful and at home, independent and not a burden, and where I can really sleep. Of course, I don't REALLY want to be flatsharing, at my age. These people I'm sharing with now are pretty brilliant, though. 

It's easy to fall into a mental trap of thinking that having a relationship or a family would 'make things better', but that's very superficial of me. There are bits about that which would be easier, nicer, more stable and other bits which would be more of a challenge. And anyway - neither of those things is a destination. Each is its own big, breathey ecosystem. Each is a maths problem and a garden needing tending. Each is a whole universe. I may tease myself into thinking such things could distract me from the bits of myself I'm not at ease with, but I suspect that in reality, they would create the biggest, fattest magnifying glass there ever was and stick it over my face. What was it someone said to me? The stuff you're not willing to work on, your kids pay for. Yes. And having said all of that about it not being better, I'd by lying massively if I pretended I didn't want these things. I do. 

This is not a girl. It's just a salad.

On another note, I'm enjoying the longing looks the gentleman opposite me is throwing sidelong at the (totally unaware) girl on the table to his left. She's involved in her salad and not much else.* Oh! Maybe not so unaware. I just caught her chucking one at him - but more curious than yearnful. He looks and smiles. She forks salad into her mouth. He has those big earring holes that take long time to develop and look like bumholes if you stretch them too quickly. Not sure if she likes that kind of thing. Not sure if she's really noticed.

This is not Esther Lilley

Thanks for Esther Lilley and Daniel. How does it come that I am blessed with them? I do know, and I'm grateful. It involves thrones and lions and a significant amount of giggling. And some writing. And lots of stupid texts. And all sorts of other things. I'm very grateful. Really, I am. 

* I looked up a picture of 'girl eating salad' but all I got was pictures of very pretty, smiley girls pretending to eat bloody salad for the camera, not putting awkward forkfuls in their faces, or even just eating the stuff. Tits. Not in a good way.

Not even real, but realler than the salad girls

On that note, do you know one thing I LOVE about the pond? All those normal abnormal bodies. All those women who look like they look. They don't pose. They don't pretend. They just put on a swimming costume, get in, (sometimes swear), swim, get out and get dressed. And we talk, in all stages of nakedness and dressedness. And nobody 'does girly' or pretends to be sexy, even if they are. Oh, media, how you do get on my tits. I know you want to sell stuff, but sometimes, I wish you'd just put some actual proper women in the pictures.