First a warning – this post contains self-indulgent and slightly miserable musings. I want you (meaning me as STILL no one is reading this, except probably Auntie Monica – Hey Mon!) to know that I’m in no way a danger to myself or others. I’m fine, I’m just wobbling. Probably just tired and a bit crashy thanks to an insane decision to quit refined sugar at the weekend. I know…
I’m thinking it’s time to go home. I don’t really know what I’m doing here, living in a dead man’s house. I could sell this pile and make a pile. Work would be a thing of the past. I mean, it’s certainly not a thing of the present. I haven’t made many friends since I got here. I just haven’t felt the connections. Unless you count Mr Park, but I see our relationship as purely transactional. And besides, since I gave up the sugar I’m seeing him less as the need for cupcakes dwindles.
I’ve been in this place for over two months now in this state of limbo. Most normal people would have a wide circle of friends and be out drinking or grabbing “a bite” most nights. Not me. Nooooooo I’m all lonely and mysterious. How did I get to be lonely and mysterious? I’m just not that much of a connector, except on here. I’d like to connect on here. Helloooooooo???? Connection anyone?
So shall I head home? Sell up, move on. I could head to Dublin instead of London. I could see what Dave is up… no! We’re not going back there. I don’t know. But it’s leaning that way. It would be delicious to throw a little brownstone money around in front of him. That’s the kind of mysterious I’m alright with. Sudden moneyed heiress. I don’t know. Maybe I should join a gym? I’d make friends there – fit friends. Friends who would make me stick to my no-sugar regime. Nah…
Oh and in other devastating affairs, I can’t find dad’s pocket watch. I thought I might’ve dropped it when I fell. I went back but it wasn’t there. I traced my steps back to a few bookstores, called a couple of others. No one found it.
Is it a sign? Time to go? (hurrr) I don’t know why, but I loved that thing. I imagined my dad carrying it in his pocket all those years, maybe my grandfather before him. One more disconnection. I feel even more lost without my New York totem. I hope it turns up. I’d hate to leave without it.
So that’s where I am. I don’t plan on making a(nother) rash moving decision right now. I’ll give myself a week or two to think it over. But my compass seems to be pointing “home”, which isn’t here.
UPDATE: The Wolf and The Wild arrived today! Feeling pretty proud of myself, actually. One down, three to go. I’m looking for insight everywhere, maybe I’ll find it in a good read. It came with this note from the person who sent it (LT?) I’m guessing it’s a quote from the novel.
Off to bed and book.