'Tis Done

Dear Dobson,

It's taken me a few weeks to get over the frustrating disappointment of an adjournment, but I can feel a gentle shift in attitude beginning to happen. I never expected to feel optimistic about the impending new year, yet that seems to be where my mood is heading.

The 'C' word has been and gone, and it seems to have been something of a success. Mes enfants were happy and grateful; I don't know that I could have asked for anything more than that. I'm relieved. I've never much enjoyed Christmas, the pressure to have fun and feel close to those I love on one particular day is suffocating. Anyway, it's over and it was okay.

Tomorrow will mark the one year anniversary of my relationship with The Man ending. Yes, there is still unresolved business to deal with but that needs to be parked until May. I have plans to hang with some jazzers all day and all night - it will be joyful, the complete antithesis of what was happening this time last year.

Tomorrow will also mark seven months exactly since my first date with SG Guy. He blew me away with the Christmas present he gave me; beautiful, exquisite, French lingerie. I can't wait to 'try it out' when he returns to London in the new year. Things are good. It's lovely and easy.

I was reflecting on the past year last night - I think it's inevitable when a new one is on its way - and I came across a picture of The Man that had been posted on the internet. I wasn't looking for it, but perhaps I was meant to find it. He appeared more 'ordinary' than I remembered. His hairline seemed to have dramatically receded. He was smiling, but looked dead behind the eyes.

Perhaps I was meant to find it?

Frankie

Spiralling

Dear Dobson,

I have an essay to produce in sixteen days and as you might predict motivation is low, so I thought it was time to pay a visit to our sacred space. 

I have found myself wondering if this complete lack of focus is what it's like to have ADHD?  If so, it must be exhausting.  My brain only seems to be able to cope with minute pieces of information and I'm finding it frustrating.  In a bid to change this state of affairs and given my surplus of singleton hours, I have taken to watching series after series of anything in a foreign language.  As you know I'm a fan of anything dark and Scandinavian, so both series of 'The Bridge' (Bron || Broen) have been an absolute godsend.  I'm now into the third series of 'Spiral', which is also dark but French.  Watching this kind of thing forces me to engage.

My heart remains broken; my emotions feel as if they've been blasted into a million pieces - someone has kindly scooped them up and plopped them in a bucket for me, but now they have to be sifted through.  That's proving more painful than the initial blasting itself.

I am doing my utmost to be 'normal' and do 'normal' things.  Parenthood offers little space for indulgence which can be both a blessing and a curse, my singing is on the up, college is going well (essay aside), I'm back running regularly and support from friends and family is forthcoming.  However...

Going through the motions has never been my bag and there is a distinct lack of joy in most of what I do right now.  Where is the fucking joy Dobson?

Speaking of fucking, the last time that happened was Christmas night and I miss the physical contact.  Though having said that, the idea of being intimate with anyone ever again terrifies me and it all feels a bit dead from the waist down.

As I said, where is the fucking joy Dobson?

Right, I'm off to watch another couple of episodes of Spiral.  The essay can wait.

Frankie

The Love Train. Toot. Toot.

Frankster,

Thatcher is dead?  When did this happen?  I loved her on 'I'm A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here.'

Bugger.

Yes.  Love is a very nice distraction from blogging, or indeed anything ending in 'ing'.  Probably not shagging though, now I come to think of it.

I am pleased you are on The Love Train (See what I did there?  Seamless).  Tooting your horn and filling your hole with coal.  Bloody marvellous.

I do believe that Karma has arrived for you, and the changes that we predicted back in December seem to be coming to fruition.

For me, I'm a wee bit more in love with life, and myself again. It's been a long journey, but actually, I think I am an okay person.

Maybe we both decided that actually, we are both a bit cool, and deserve some of the good stuff.  I feel it enough to say it out loud too.

On a complete tangent, but sort of not, I have noticed a positive change in my dad.  The reason is simple.  The father that abandoned him over 60 years again has been found.  Obviously, he is no longer around, dying at 50 something in 1969.... but.... I think it gave him some closure.

No doubt there will be some family stuff that comes out, but he sounded so buoyant and happy, and making plans to go on some trips, live a bit.  I could hear it in his voice and it oozed over the phone.

C'mon Karma.  Keep doing the do!

Lub you.  Seriously.

Dobster

Faffery

Dear Frankie,

Bunny? Was that a friend of yours from private school?

I am generally faffing this year. Hence lack of bloggage.  I am mostly floating in a jetstream of 'Let's just see what happens-ness'.  I feel this is the best course of action.  This will, of course, need to be revised at some point, but I feel a bit of a calm before the storm.

I have just come back from Scotland, where I normally feel a bit unsetttled and undecided about the future.  I have this time come back feeling like I was coming home more. I want to 'do my house up', get settled at work and buy a hall table.  That sort of thing.

I also have to train for this fecking 10k. Christ.

That's all the news that is fit to print. I started this blog in total peace. As per, everyone has now come in the room.

The other thing I am 'getting done' is an office in the back garden.

With a fucking padlock.

Lub you.

Dobson