Please excuse the blogglessness. I have been tired and the Church of England are not cured by any medicine known to man.
I am doing my best.
This morning I woke in the dark early morning and did some things before throwing myself in the direction of work, via a handy McDonalds, haha.
I worked until the rain really started, then I had other things to do.
I went to the opticians and told them I had a screw loose. That even got a laugh out of the receptionist, who is nice, but quite prim and proper. They fixed my glasses.
Then I went to a meeting, then I went to sort even more stuff out.
Eventually I got home and had lunch, then I went out and forced myself to mingle with the Christmas festivities, I even wore my Santa hat, yes I still wear a santa hat at Christmas, but I can never find a decent pink one these days. I endured the Christmas festivities, and I actually enjoyed the craft markets, but I can never choose anything for people's gifts and this year it made me too sad.
Last year I got my friend a load of little gifts from the crafts barn, she was too weak to unwrap her gifts on Christmas Day so I helped her, and that evening when she hugged and and kissed me goodbye, that was the last time I saw her alive.
So, peeps, that is one reason this is a painful Christmas, the others are that the Church of England and their press and their utter loony 'national safeguarding team' have injured me too severely, and the third is that I am actually moving house at Christmas so that my work isn't disrupted. Stupid, I know, but I guess moving is a kind of distraction, I can't really come to terms with Christmas this year.
As I am looking out the window, the band and the lantern parade are starting to move despite the rain, the band have been keeping me magically entertained although I have also had Youtube on, I can actually bear to listen to this song now, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2iYtzTZ2xVA
Did you know it is about grief? one of her musicians died just before Christmas. I guess it can be for me and my late friend as the year anniversary approaches.
The one I can't listen to without crying is 'A Winter's Tale' by David Essex, because it makes me grieve for Jersey, and I can't afford to do that, it makes me grieve for St. Clement's Bay in the cold and dark. It isn't time to grieve and die yet, I am still fighting for my life.
Here the sea is roaring and I stood on the hill and looked down at the bay and the harbour for some time. I don't stop and look any more, I don't feel the joy and wonder, because everything that has happened has been too much.
Anyway, it has been a fairly normal week here, work, study, last assignment of the term handed in, a third of the next book transcribed. And yes the flat is decorated for Christmas and with cards everywhere, dunno why.
Ah, I had good flights though this week, I still have a great agraphobia and fear of ending up squashed, trapped or with horrible passengers, but I was sat next to a young girl, about 9 or 10, and she was reading a book, she told me all about her book, it was part of a series called 'The Magic Tree House' series, and it was quite like Enid Blyton's Wishing Chair and Faraway Tree series from my childhood. Anyway, in this book of hers, the children ended up on the Titanic. She was really enjoying reading it, and she asked about my book. I was reading a University textbook about music, so I told her that, and she said that she hadn't quite got as far as university yet. Which was funny.
I asked if she liked music and she told me she played the violin. Wonderful, she was such a bright girl. I bet she will ace university when she does get there.