The night before last we went for dinner at a friends house. They loved my broad bean dip and I loved their chicken casserole. So much so that I attempted to replicate it last night. But I guess that's neither here nor there. Cooking is something I do almost every night now and I'm trying to do it better but it's hard. Everything is hard. All I want to do is drink icy drinks, read books and take afternoon naps. Lazy, lazy, lazy. And in a weird sort of way I miss work. I miss the pay going into my bank account every fortnight and although I know that it's kind of crass to talk about money, I worry about it a lot. There's a funny conversation I've had with a few people about what we're doing. It comes up because I imagine it looks like we are living on thin air. Not true, and really it is totally OK. Absolutely it is. But still I worry. And seek to economise so as to spin out what we have for longer. But yeah, work. I also miss being someone who tells others this is the way it goes. Sorting out problems. Hanging around in the tearoom with my colleagues. And having a ready and socially acceptable answer when people ask me what I do. And oh yeah, having a world that's a away from here. Here is good but sometimes it all feels like it is falling around my head. I wouldn't go back to that work because the good aspects of working, in the end, didn't outweigh the crap aspects of the actual job. People remark that I look different, like a big weight has been lifted from me and I suppose it is true, leaving work has been good in that sense. It had to be done. But not working is not quite the paradise I imagined it would be.
There's a temptation for me to lurk at home more than I should. Our friends are so not the sort of people who would judge me for being unemployed and I suppose any other judgement I imagine is more in my head than from anywhere real. Oh actually, that's not quite true, in my last job, workers used to judge the unemployed frequently and sometimes quite harshly. Anyway the lack of structure in my life is starting to grate and although Grace has liked having me around, she has been disappointed in her holidays in a teenagery sort of way (at least that's how I imagine teenagers to be and I am probably wrong there). I have ruined her life and her holidays on a regular basis. There have been tears and slamming doors. It would have been good to go away but we couldn't agree on what to do and the idea never really got of the ground. In hindsight a camping holiday in Tasmania might not have been the best thing this year anyway. I don't think it has really been that bad, there have been some outings, play dates and activities. And anyway, we are gearing up for a big cousin visit tomorrow and that should be pretty fab.
So the other night, one thing I really enjoyed, apart from the company of course, was a visit from the lovely and delicate Twiggy. She sniffed me out and jumped onto my lap and spent quite a bit of time being patted, having her picture taken with my phone and purring. It's quite a privilege to be chosen by a cat other than your own and she stayed on my lap until the children started patting her and then she was off. I'd had a bit to drink when I took these photos but I like them, they capture the noir of the evening and Twiggy in her Twiggyness quite well I think I'm glad school is back tomorrow. Grace will have some time off to be with the cousins but I am going to get busy. I have plans and I don't know if they are reasonable or if they are going to work but I think just getting busy might be the best strategy at this point.