Things are getting a tad intense here.
Rach is on nights again. I’ve packed all I can, so I’m patiently waiting for M-Day to spring into action putting the remainder of our stuff into boxes.
Yesterday was a day of anger that would have dreadtemujin proud, and today while more controlled I feel like my head’s about to explode.
Fortunately there’s an inner voice which is guiding me through it all, holding my hand and helping me get around safety, gagging the anger and making sure that I don’t say anything inappropriate.
The worst thing about feeling this way is that I know how goddamn lucky I am. Apart from the occasional bout of deep depression I’ve never had it tough. What really hammered it home was the train journey yesterday. I’ve generally been noticing the influx of young east Europeans in the Beeston area. Well there was this trolley guy on the train home, who served me while I was in my self-justified black mood after a day at work. He was a fresh faced twenty something, tall with long hair tied back. The sort of chap who would have been a good acquaintance at university,who would have had the girls at rock sock swooning. Except here he is working on the trains at a minimum wage job. The final hammerfall was when he took my money and I noticed that his hands were like those of a middle aged man. Suddenly I felt like a spoilt brat which chocolate smeared all over my face screaming my head off because the adults weren’t bending to my will.
Another thing that brings determination to get out of this negative aggressive slump is the fact I’ve just been talking via Trillan to my mate tzunder, who took the time to listen to me whine and generally be sympathatic to my pathetic angry self, despite currently having to deal with a personal situation that far outstrips my in terms of reality and severity.
So I’m chillin’ and getting my head sorted out, since the world is hurt enough without me charging round like a bull in a china shop.
Maximum Newt 