Yes, I can work in a team – but that is something I’d say in an interview if I was desperate for a job.
But I’d have to be desperate – I am starting to admit to these truths about myself – that might make me seem less desirable as an – adjunct, I suppose – in society but which – well, that’s me.
I once told a friend in all earnestness that I would make a good hermit.
And he was surprised – would you?
And I have imaginary post-apocalyptic thoughts and, sadly, I have come to the conclusion that you would survive more readily if you were part of a community.
Don’t you know, by now, that – give yourself goals – challenge yourself – you’re likely to come up short?
I have an idea where I would like to be next – having looked over and printed out ‘Diary 2018’ at least – I did want that completed before the year 2019 was out, but I won’t manage that – but I did say to myself that –
I would finish that before I went on to looking back over writing I did long ago.
It’s weird stuff, is that.
Wrap up ‘2018’.
Leave ‘2019’ for now – I’ll never get to The . . . unless I deliberately leave that – as a ‘checked over; printed out’ –
There are times when you take a leap.
I’m going to do that, but I know from experience – leave something and it’s difficult to get back to it.
Therefore, whatever you leave (I’m talking to myself again) make sure it is at a point where it can be left – where it is safe to leave it (talking to you now) –
Yes. I’ll do that.
Must I finish ‘2018’ first?
I’m only in ‘March’ of it.
I have less time at the moment, and I am turning off comments.
I don’t need thing to look good any more – not necessarily.
I do things myself, where I can.
I am not strong in my arms.
My shoulders ache.
I do as I am able.
My not-so-well husband and I will stay at home on Christmas Day. (He has said it is okay to mention him here, sometimes.)
We have been invited out but, last year, it was so difficult . . . (I won’t say everything – there is a certain amount of respect for his privacy that I adhere to).
This year, we have no decorations up – my husband has been a hoarder and we are still working through all that and – literally – there is nowhere to put the tree, the space where it used to go being taken up now by . . . new furniture to make things easier for him.
I have some tete-a-tete daffodil bulbs on the window-sill in the front room in the place where I have put the odd small ornament in years gone by.
And a blue hyacinth bulb starting to grow in a hyacinth vase.
I’d rather have those than Christmas paraphernalia.
In the back garden is the frog-house (yes, you can get them) that my sister got for me for my last birthday, and a broken large terracotta pot buried partly in, for another.
They come over sometimes from next door where they have taken up residence in Godwin’s shallow water-tray. I haven’t said anything to her, but they will die if they can’t get deep, or sheltered, if we have a hard winter.
I have the two pot-ponds buried deep – those I was going to have on top of the ground before I discovered there were still frogs.
I have sent out all my Christmas cards.
That’s something of a weird thing to say.
Why shouldn’t I be struggling through the days? Haven’t I a right to be struggling as much as anyone else?
To be feeling a little down and able to say so?
And for that to not be a dirty word?
Except it is.
Writing in loops here, and through anxiety, but don’t worry, I’ll be okay.
People are busy with Christmas preparations, and I don’t care about it.
I’m still getting over NaNo, and I feel as though no one is bothered about that, now, but I have the odd post I wrote back then – actually, only early this month but that seems such a long time ago – that I couldn’t publish (in the WordPress way) then – and need to now, so I can move on.
‘Blog – Friday 6 December 2019.
‘Gotta round it up. Gotta round it up. Gotta . . .
‘I was old in there – my real, old self.
‘Give up on it! Give up on the pretence!
‘Told you so! Told you so!
‘Shad up! Shad up! Shad up!’