I can stand the rain
I'm having an interesting 2014 and I want to do a better job of writing about it than I have managed so far. I keep saying this, so I am making no promises, not even to myself, but what I do know is that there's not a single blog post I've ever written, apart from the ones that got deleted the morning after the night before, that I regret writing. Not even the one where I admitted to voting for the Respect Party once (it was a long time ago). Or the other one where I said I thought Tony Blair wasn't such a bad guy (also a long time ago). You live, you learn.
This morning, M got up at 7 and went for a run with our neighbour A. On the way back, they jumped in the river. He came home, had a bath, and at 8.45 he went out to an Empathy Circle to practise his new NVC skills. He came back from that, cooked me some cheesy scrambled egg on homemade toast, then cycled off into town to donate his blood platelets. It's fair to say he's thriving in the North, and I couldn't be happier about that, but today, if I didn't love him, I'd hate him for all that joie de vivre.
Because I Have A Cold. And it's a nasty one. I got through a lot of last year on adrenaline and fury, and I think I may now be paying the price for that. I woke up this morning with the kind of sore throat that comes from a night of swollen glands and snoring. I could barely speak. While M was out running, I fell back to sleep and dreamt that all I could do was honk like a goose. The harder I tried, the more I coughed, the more agitated I got, the louder I honked. He came back from his run and brought me a glass of red wine. This is my fate, I realised in my dream, I will lie here drinking wine and honking, while everyone else runs up hills and swims in rivers.
I finally rose around 10. I spent the rest of the day moving very slowly, because I Have A Cold, but moving nonetheless (apart from the Long Nap between 17.30 and 19.30). I tidied up the kitchen, cleaned all the surfaces and did a load of laundry. I listened to the wedding drama on the Archers. I walked up the hill to the part-time Post Office to return the dress I bought in the Toast mini-sale that, if I'm honest, I knew probably wouldn't fit me. I bought some Old English sausages from our local butcher (aka Pete the Meat). They have beef, pork and lamb all in one sausage. I'm may be new to meat eating but that strikes me as the glorious opposite of horse in your lasagne.
So I was hardly qualifying, even on my own terms, as a General Total Failure* But when it started raining, I silently rejoiced. I love the rain. I always have, though I haven't always loved walking to the Post Office in it. But, unless you're homeless or on a camping holiday, the rain gives you a break. Whatever you're doing, if you get it done in the rain you get more points. And if you choose to stay in and read a novel instead, well hey, that's just fine. Rain makes me feel like a natural person. So, let it rain on me. And Kimya.
*My Significant Ex went to Eton, and this was a category used by one of the masters when reading out exam results. It's stayed with me, in an Aim Higher Than GTF sense.