Well, the furniture has gone, with me almost clinging to the table as it was carried out the door. I can visit my two pink sofas as co-workers bought them for their offices. All I have now is a big cold empty room, and a camp bed dressed up as a sofa. This does not feel good. Plagued horribly by doubt and even worse, by self-doubt when I look at my book sales. I can do this – I can.
It’s been a horrible few weeks. Relationship goes up and down and occasionally reaches the point where the pressure is too much. My trouble is that I manage so well alone that I forget that it is nice to have someone. I forget that life is better with a loving friend. Off I go into my self-imposed isolation without stopping to ask if I am happy or not. I am not sure where the ability to enjoy my own company comes from, but I do. Alone, I am busy and active and amused. My best friend is not the TV – I don’t own one. What is wrong with me?
I gave a cookery lesson on Skype. He said it was horrible. I was not offended, not even surprised. Everything I cook is horrible. I know that, I eat it. Just happily lunched on a beetroot salad, with rocket and feta and pine nuts and was quite content. There must be a name for this condition – anorexic apparently, according to my online investigations. No, I dont think so.
Back in winter clothes today as Sydney had a night of gales and high winds. I had to negotiate my way through a flooded road and three major sets of traffic lights all not working and this is in the middle of the city!
Day off tomorrow as the movers are coming to give me estimates, how much , how many boxes, how to pack it etc etc. Don’t really need the advice, but it helps if they see the access for loading or lack of it, to my apartment. Fourteen weeks to go. Someone said today how envious they were of my new adventure. I just want to hide under the bed (while I still have one) until it all goes away.