I want to write more. I never know what to write about. I say I’ll sit down and just see what comes… But that never happens.
So, I just spent 10 minutes putting photos on Flickr.
Was off sick today, felt horrible yesterday. Drained, lethargic, with no appetite, tired.
Today, felt better but stayed off because it wouldn’t have helped. I did go in for a parent information evening because no one else could do it. Got told that I didn’t look well, I thought I was feeling better.
But it did make me think about how good, or bad a judge of how we are.
Am I fine?
Am I well enough? Should I be doing more of this or less of this? Should I be staying at home instead of going to work? Should I be making more of effort to do this or that?
Are we a good judge? By what standards are we judging anyway?
It doesn’t make sense to me that you wouldn’t want to remember your life. This concept of partying, it’s like you’re sweeping up after yourself constantly. You’re just sweeping away your memories. I like to be present, and keep it with me. Some people think of straight edge as a tee-totaling sobriety movement, but in my mind it was just about self definition. I found it unimpeachably positive. But people always find ways to be derisive. You’re in England – you fucking know that, right? It’s an extremely snarky society.
When you fall off the edge and getting back involves a long climb. Returning isn’t simply a single step.
I meant to start a list of things I was going to start doing in the coming school year. I just never got around to finding the time to do it. I had a thought that I might do it tomorrow but realistically, I’m just gonna dilly dally. I want to do overhead squats and burpees but I think the school gym is under construction still.
I was going to meditate more, stick to the strength programme that I’m now paying for, write more, practise my Chinese more (especially outside in the real world), to try and get my head around teaching Year 2 and the particular requirements that our school presents.
Maybe I should just do all of them.
I don’t think I like good byes. It’s not easy when it’s ‘good bye, see you next year, possibly, visa permitting.’
‘Good bye, see you soon’ or ‘good bye, see you next week’ because you work together or they live in the same city or the same country.
Coming back to the UK full of good byes, often said too shortly said after saying hello again.
I feel an obligation to make the very most of it, whatever that means. To make it meaningful perhaps. To try and say all those things that I’ve been meaning to get off my chest. To say to someone I feel knows me better.
It’s never that way, of course.
Spending time with good friends isn’t like that. It’s filled with comfortable silence, jokes, memories, simply talking.
But I’ve realised, that that’s enough. It’s not that I need to get it all out, more I needed to find a place when I can instead cope with the things I’ve been thinking about.