Two Days in the Duvet
Saturday I showered (yay), dressed, and ventured into city centre to meet with my old workmate. We chatted over coffee, her asking for all the gritty details of the recent work situation and me asking for details of her impending nuptials and I was feeling pleasantly numb about everything, enough so that it tickled me that they have decided to fly all the way to Vegas to get married, and I actually volunteered to go look at wedding dresses with her.
I picked up another box of ultra light ash blond hair colour (a different brand this time), and a scented pillow (sandlewood) for my bedroom. Retail therapy is just the thing you need when you've lost your job, have no money, and no immediate prospects for getting anymore money. I may become homeless, but at least I'll have a nice smelling pillow upon which to lay my bleached blond head.
Except the colour didn't work this time either-- it just went slightly lighter and slightly more red. That's it, no more fucking around with my hair! Once could be a fluke, but not twice. The way my luck runs if I tried to do this one more time, all of my hair will fall out. I'm going to leave as is until I get a job interview, and then I'll spring for a haircut and I'll color it back to medium golden brown.
On Sunday Caroline picked me up and it was such a gorgeous sunny day I couldn't wait to shoot the castle. We drove only a few minutes outside Glasgow, passing through Bothwell before we reached Bothwell Castle. We wandered around the outside for a bit where I think I was snapping shots more to hear the sound than because I had anything spectacular to shoot. Don't get me wrong, as castles go these were nice remains, but there is only so much you can do with one lens on a castle exterior. Once inside, the clerk gave us a breathless account of the history and then we shoved off to explore the remains.



Unfortunately, Caroline was still recovering from a bout of illness acquired on holiday, so we cut the exploration short and headed back to the car. After a few minutes of air-conditioning she was feeling better, and decided we should stop at the Bothwell Parish Church on our way home. This is an incredibly lovely church, so well maintained, but sadly the cemetery itself hasn't received the same level of attention.



On Monday I got up and made breakfast and coffee, surfed the web for want ads, and then popped out for a bit in the afternoon for my appointment at the job centre. We chatted about my options and he printed off all the job adverts I wanted to respond to and gave me an application for one of the positions and then I went home with the full intention of going back out to asda (to pick up a printer) once the rain stopped.
And that's pretty much where my week ended. I couldn't find the enthusiasm to trudge to asda and back carrying a fucking printer in the rain and suddenly just felt so very, very tired. I took myself to bed and the following morning when I awoke I had the thought, "I wonder how long I would have to go without eating or drinking before I wouldn't HAVE to get out of bed anymore" (if you know what I mean). And now I know the answer to that is about 36 hours - although it does slow down quite a bit after the 24. But throw in an additional half a day of sleeping and you'll find it ain't hunger that finally drives you from the bed but the foulness of your own mouth and body. Man, humans sure are stinky when they skip soap for a couple of days.
One of the side effects of the craziness called my childhood is my severe lack of coping skills. I find in life I will meet many problems head-on when they occur, and I will also aggressively defend and protect those I care about, but when it comes to myself I pretty much just withdraw emotionally from the situation and use any number of harmful things in order to deal. I'm trying to grow and change, but in order to do that I'm being confronted by feelings from past issues and sometimes it seems like my both my head and my heart are trying to kill me and I reach a point where I just can't take anymore and have to shut things down again.
It is difficult keeping the focus on myself as I get easily distracted by the needs of others. I want to rush in and solve their problems and while that might work for the short term, I'm probably not doing them any favors either so I've been learning to back off while they handle the situation on their own. Fuck that is hard.
I'm going to try real hard to shut the lid on the laptop and go take a shower now. And then I would like to go into the kitchen to wash the dishes and maybe cook some soup. That is all I'm going to ask of myself today. Tomorrow is another day.
I picked up another box of ultra light ash blond hair colour (a different brand this time), and a scented pillow (sandlewood) for my bedroom. Retail therapy is just the thing you need when you've lost your job, have no money, and no immediate prospects for getting anymore money. I may become homeless, but at least I'll have a nice smelling pillow upon which to lay my bleached blond head.
Except the colour didn't work this time either-- it just went slightly lighter and slightly more red. That's it, no more fucking around with my hair! Once could be a fluke, but not twice. The way my luck runs if I tried to do this one more time, all of my hair will fall out. I'm going to leave as is until I get a job interview, and then I'll spring for a haircut and I'll color it back to medium golden brown.
On Sunday Caroline picked me up and it was such a gorgeous sunny day I couldn't wait to shoot the castle. We drove only a few minutes outside Glasgow, passing through Bothwell before we reached Bothwell Castle. We wandered around the outside for a bit where I think I was snapping shots more to hear the sound than because I had anything spectacular to shoot. Don't get me wrong, as castles go these were nice remains, but there is only so much you can do with one lens on a castle exterior. Once inside, the clerk gave us a breathless account of the history and then we shoved off to explore the remains.




Unfortunately, Caroline was still recovering from a bout of illness acquired on holiday, so we cut the exploration short and headed back to the car. After a few minutes of air-conditioning she was feeling better, and decided we should stop at the Bothwell Parish Church on our way home. This is an incredibly lovely church, so well maintained, but sadly the cemetery itself hasn't received the same level of attention.



On Monday I got up and made breakfast and coffee, surfed the web for want ads, and then popped out for a bit in the afternoon for my appointment at the job centre. We chatted about my options and he printed off all the job adverts I wanted to respond to and gave me an application for one of the positions and then I went home with the full intention of going back out to asda (to pick up a printer) once the rain stopped.And that's pretty much where my week ended. I couldn't find the enthusiasm to trudge to asda and back carrying a fucking printer in the rain and suddenly just felt so very, very tired. I took myself to bed and the following morning when I awoke I had the thought, "I wonder how long I would have to go without eating or drinking before I wouldn't HAVE to get out of bed anymore" (if you know what I mean). And now I know the answer to that is about 36 hours - although it does slow down quite a bit after the 24. But throw in an additional half a day of sleeping and you'll find it ain't hunger that finally drives you from the bed but the foulness of your own mouth and body. Man, humans sure are stinky when they skip soap for a couple of days.
One of the side effects of the craziness called my childhood is my severe lack of coping skills. I find in life I will meet many problems head-on when they occur, and I will also aggressively defend and protect those I care about, but when it comes to myself I pretty much just withdraw emotionally from the situation and use any number of harmful things in order to deal. I'm trying to grow and change, but in order to do that I'm being confronted by feelings from past issues and sometimes it seems like my both my head and my heart are trying to kill me and I reach a point where I just can't take anymore and have to shut things down again.
It is difficult keeping the focus on myself as I get easily distracted by the needs of others. I want to rush in and solve their problems and while that might work for the short term, I'm probably not doing them any favors either so I've been learning to back off while they handle the situation on their own. Fuck that is hard.
I'm going to try real hard to shut the lid on the laptop and go take a shower now. And then I would like to go into the kitchen to wash the dishes and maybe cook some soup. That is all I'm going to ask of myself today. Tomorrow is another day.

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