Will try to illustrate – am so tired of the never-ending explanation marathon – some key dynamics of my daily life atm as I once again try to get onto my knees, and then ever so slowly try to start walking again – all the while of course longing to run up the dunes in my birthday suit, admittedly showing off some left over boyish bravado, as I did that glorious sun-doused day on my secret Paradise beach not so long ago after spending just an hour or two with my darling one on that lonely stretch of blissful seclusion.
Did it really happen at all?
Today then. Caught up with my favourite local barista team, looking like a bush ranger or failed Karl Marx imitator (me, not them), as I’m sporting an ever more greying beard. They were happy, though also quite concerned when I once again rocked up at their cafe oasis.
It was nice to have a quick chat, they are a lovely couple and of course I did mention that the recent article in which they featured got quite a bit of coverage as I hadn’t been able to remove its ‘main story’ status while on self-imposed gardening leave..
But I have been here so many times before. This troubled world is replete with big-hearted kind people. But I am growing increasingly wary of inflicting my crap on new people.
Climbed back up the hill, as always making sure no visitors to the Saint’s tomb (many of whom are from overseas and always seem very tentative and cautious about how to approach etc. ) as well as any other fellow-afflicted peeps clambering up the steep Mount, were not trampled by any of the peak hour ‘normals’.
Stopped off at another friendly haven, the cafe at the museum. Always a treat.
However, all of a sudden completely deflated, exhausted and panic-stricken beyond all reason as one of my neighbours, our resident official curtain twitcher, quasi-helpfully asked, “Hi, all better? Now?”
I knew exactly what she meant.
The remainder of the day I shan’t be doing ought but work on getting used to the new meds.