I have a week's off, next week (w/c 16th). So there's less than a week to sort things out, but lastminuting is half the fun. I did have one idea of where to go, but since that imploded so I'm praying that plan b won't do the same.
I really, really need a break.
Thought I was happy, springy & life was all groovy once more, but a flat weekend suffocated that mercilessly. So here we going sliding into another bout of depression.
Section me now.
I mean, I'm going to be policing your streets soon for crying out loud.
It's not just that work's tiring me out, that unsurprisingly is the case, but the fact that I'm fed up of being tired and lonely down here. Work just... Is. It's really starting to feel like there's little else to wake up for in the morning. I'm happy at work because... I'm busy. It's something to do. Outside of that? Bugger all going on. Television, books, making dinner, watching the wildlife in the garden and then coming on here and depressing the hell out of any reader. I mean, today was a fucking riot. Mowing the lawn, hoovering, ironing and I thought I'd pick myself up with an exceedingly cheerful movie (don't ask).
Anyone that gives a shit is at least sixty miles distant. I know that's like a blink to some of you, it's more of a metaphorical chasm I guess, but still. Fancy going for a pint? Oh fuckit, I forget it's 90mins drive to where you are.
On one level I'm doing fine, on another I feel I made a grave mistake - not with the job, but the location. It seemed a good idea at the time. But I've made my bed, and now I have to lie in it, there's nothing else I can do for another two years. Peversely, I really looking forward to strange hours in the new year, keeping out of everybody's way (save for the complete idiot's who I have to bring in) and immersing myself in everyone else's problems out there, so I won't have to deal with my own.
Hopefully this time next week I'm be packing to go somewhere. If it's where I hope to go; a least one person knows my name there, maybe two if I'm lucky and they're in town. One of them is a very good listener, and I really hope I don't abuse that too much.
Travelling, if nothing else, always feels natural. Ironic that I often feel quite at home, hundreds of miles away...