How's that for a dejected title?
And dejected I am. I'd like to loudly state that this was, officially, one HORRID day.
For a start, it has rained all day long, as only our country can rain; switching between mizzling and drizzling and the all-over-drench.
Maybe it was inevitable, to have a little bump down to earth after the gleefulness of Livvy working again. Which, by the way, went well. Although I could have been truly awful, I've no idea; it was a crazy blur of rushed scenes, working with kids and pigeons and seasoned RSC actor with lovely voice (no, not luvvy voice, lovely voice).
But there are days, aren't there, when the ketchup top does come off the bottle all over your favourite cream fleece; when adored child starts behaving appallingly 5 minutes before the first-time visitors arrive (and stops 5 seconds after they've left); when you and your beloved miss one another completely, even though you're in the same room - every word misconstrued, misinterpreted and leapt on, so that you're left in a well of crossness and frustration when he goes to work. Need I go on.
I can't have a drink because I'm so badly hormonally-challenged I'll go to bed with a hangover, let alone wake up with one in the morning.
I can't do what I need to do, ie. type my Dad's play and earn some sorely needed money, because my head is a jumbly mess.
I can't have a cracker and Marmite because my stomach hurts.
But I suppose... I can blog.
I can believe my own blurb and use my drug of choice.
I can make myself feel better for not writing for a week by thanking all those, er, 3 of you out there who are staying so loyal...
I can say I've never had an experience like blogging before.
I can ponder that I've rarely kept a secret for so long (no-one I know, except the Bim, knows I write a blog).
And I can wonder as I often do why I still haven't done a huge round-robin email announcing where I am in the blogosphere. Certainly would increase my traffic.
Tonight, as the rain beats on the window, and adored child sleeps after 8th try, and the Bim isn't due for another hour, I know that I keep it that way because writing a blog gives its own special buzz on a wretched day like today. The achievement can feel truly massive: 500 or so words strung together to make some kind of whole which will then be published into a beautiful space with a quote I treasure at the top. There is great grace to me in this. Great hope for sunny, time-filled days in the future spent stringing together 5,000, even 50,000 words. Each post, each present five hundred is like a little pledge towards that time.
Mmm, ahah, yes, you know what? Drug of choice is working.