We made it though.
Again, I am left with the familiar feeling of emptiness that ebbs away as time passes and life gets busier again. I determinedly focus on the things I have in my life, the beautiful people, the excellent relationships, the joy and the laughter. I try and avoid looking at the elephant in the room.
Right now, I am sitting at the dining room table. The patio doors are in front of me leading to the windswept and wet garden. The doors need cleaning and I must put that on my list of things to do. I have recently discovered, (although I think it is rediscovered) GoogleKeep and it is being a great help. Sometimes I feel as though I am thinking through a fog still - yesterday on the bus I couldn't remember where I was going, and I don't mean where in the town, I mean, which town! I got to the meeting in the end and had a very professional time doing very professional planning for school trips that other schools will go on, with resources that we are developing.
Through the window I can see the rain falling, as it has done for the last 18 hours, just continuously coming down from the grey sky. The trees are waving in the wind, the leaves shivering at the end of never-still twigs, attached to undulating branches, giving the whole a feeling of urgency. The garden is a mess, prolific weeds bursting through, and it is typical that the first day that I could be doing anything about them is one in which I cannot do anything - not even spray with weedkiller.
The house is never silent, but it is at it's quietest. The ginger cat sleeps next to me, on the table, which I'm sure I have moved him from several times. Today I am turning a blind eye to his being there, as he is still unwell, and is just seeing companionship. The other cat is in bed upstairs, with J, who drove to the Midlands and back to collect T-boy yesterday. T-Boy and the Ac are still in bed as well, but it is only just 7:30 on a Saturday morning, and they were all up late last night. I was up late as well, I think we went to bed at around 2330hrs, but I can manage. There are things that must be done.
The dishwasher is swooshing away to itself and the tank pump vibrates the floor next to me. The rain drops onto the plastic of the patio door sill, and I am minded to check the camper and make sure it is dry.
I want to write every day now that I have the time. I have had one rejection letter, and so that story needs work and then resending. I'm not ashamed of the rejection letter - I'd be more ashamed if I had never tried. So I am off to try now.
This kind of stream of conciousness post is very freeing as a writer, but probably quite dull as a reader. I would apologise, but very few people read this these days.