Day 530: Sunshine

stuff this turkey

I proper love that I genuinely don't give a shit about Christmas Day as a tradition, as today proved. Any melancholy is to do with a constructed comparison which truly doesn't really exist. Again, denial isn't worth the energy: would I rather be in the arms of a beautiful, soul-deep man who loves me? Fuck yeah, of course I would! Does that mean sitting in a house eating 'what you eat at Christmas' and watching telly? Fuck no, of course it doesn't. I look forward to being in that man's arms every day, and to be doing exciting things; to be doing what I did today, what I did this time last year, what I may be doing this time next year. You can keep the turkey and stuffing, though. More for everyone else. 

Today was pie. I liked it. A long bike ride towards one centre, covered in sun. I loved the ride, but kept thinking 'shit, if I have to come back this way, and this long, after my shift, I'm going to be in trouble'. A text diverted me to another centre closer to home, meaning I arrived a bit late, but was able to spend half an hour rather than at least an hour and a half on the journey back, and still have useful day out of it. 

I was touched and tempted by an open door from those lovely Grundels, and nearly went round just because it was such a nice thing, but what my body wanted was a bath, a happy cat (all fed, all purrsome) and my bed. So here I am. Gift received, nevertheless. Thank you. 

Thank you, Andy, for taking the trouble to send me some music so I can try out some singing in the centre tomorrow. I'm looking forward to that, I am, and I'm proper appreciative of your help and time. Today, fine people, a creative writing workshop, bingo, art room, a fabulous Irish singer wearing TWO buffs, both in that green I could die in. Good voice, and some lovely improvised songs going on with him and a young girl. Strong voices. Good stuff.


Finally, best news ever today, on facebook, that my fine friend Oyvind is back to raging good health. I'm very happy. That'll do!