Before anybody mentions it:
• Yes, it’s ridiculous o’clock in the morning
• Yes, I’m awake
• Yes, I’ve been awake for hours
• Yes, I’ve tried going back to sleep
• No, I can’t get back to sleep
That clears up the background…..
How’s everybody been? Since last she popped up WeeGee has mostly been AWESOME with occasional outbreaks of wibbly wobbly wobbling. I do love the odd bout of wibbly wobbly wobbling, but only because it’s good fun to say.
By the way, before I forget, if you notice the odd missing ‘L’ in this post can you please be too polite to mention it because it’s not my fault that the ‘L’ key on my laptop is feeling a bit temperamental and is refusing to type every so often.
Anyway – back to the wibbly wobbly wobbling* well, it just seems to happen every so often. It would appear that when I’ve nothing to be wibbly or wobbly about I’ll ramble around my head until I find something to make me go a bit wibbly wobbly. And then I wobble about for a while until I remember that I’ve got nothing to be wibbly wobbly about and then everything is AWESOME again. All of this just to say:
WeeGee wobbles but she won’t fall down**
It was Mrs Mountain day yesterday. Now I only see her every other week I try to use the time as wisely as I can because, you know, a fortnight can be a long time on planet mental so you have to make sure Mrs Mountain has heard all about it.
This week we were trying to figure out how and when it became such a big deal for WeeGee to let people into her life – by which we really meant ‘what’s the problem with people you don’t know very well coming into your flat and why do you feel the need to do EVERYTHING and ANYTHING you possibly can to avoid it?’
On the face of it, I guess it seems quite straightforward. This is MY space, it’s where I hid during the wilderness years, it’s where I paced about thinking completely and utterly bonkers stuff, it’s where I got better, it’s where I figure stuff out. They say an English man’s home is his castle. I guess a Scottish girl’s home is her teeny tiny flat…..
I suppose there’s also the fact that I’m quite ‘particular’ about certain things, you know, like angles and stuff. Nothing just ‘is’ in my flat – it’s ‘placed’ and if I’ve placed something somewhere and somehow that’s exactly how I want it to stay. The thing with other people is they don’t know the rules and they mess stuff up and put stuff that doesn’t belong in my flat in places it doesn’t have any right to be. And that upsets my sensibilities. They are also liable to switch the big light in the kitchen on and for some reason that makes me want to punch them in the face. Hard.
Still, there’s more to it than that, because that’s all stuff I can think my way out of. What I can’t think myself out of is the ‘empty’ people leave behind when they go away. When I first started living alone I thought the ‘empty’ was going to consume me. I hated it. It made me want to jump off tall things. And then I got used to it. I filled the space up with things that matter to me – tokens, memories, pictures, thoughts. I forgot what empty felt like by focusing on the mementos and how important they were to me and convincing myself that there’s no such thing as alone.
So anyway. Suppose I got used to having someone around? Not all of the time, because that’s completely out of the question, but maybe some of the time? Maybe on occasional evenings? Or at the weekend? It might be alright. But. That someone would start to fill the space up with themselves wouldn’t they? And that also might be alright. But. What if, at some point in the future, they stopped being around? Would I have to spend my time running away from empty until I got used to it again? The thing is I really don’t think I want to do that because I’m not entirely convinced I can.
As always, you will see that I have more questions than answers. I’ll have to have one of my little thinks about it. I’ll probably do a bit of wibbly wobbly wobbling as well, but I guess in the end it’ll all be AWESOME.
Meanwhile in other news, after the adventures in the ‘nipple-tastic’ dress last week yesterday I opted for the ‘makes WeeGee looks like she might be preggers’ dress. As pointed out by Mr Hilarious (very loudly). Nothing else to report today save that WeeGee very definitely doesn’t have a bun in the oven, and she’s never wearing that particular dress again.
Love you all lots and lots like polka dots***
P.S. Did I miss any Ls out?
*Have you tried saying it yet? Oh go on, I promise it’ll make you smile
**Like a weeble!
***I LOVE polka dots