Friday, July 29, 2011

Satans. Jävlar. Skit. my way of summing up how I feel about this morning. I woke up and I felt completely and utterly mentally unprepared for it, this morning I mean.

Having to face this morning just all seemed a bit too much. I could have used a coach to get me through it because I felt like I was going into a boxing match horribly unprepared. It was like knowing that my opponent was going to be three times the size of me, at least!, and that he had won on knockout in the last ten matches. In the first round! I could have used a pep talk is all I’m saying.

It’s not that it was all that hard this morning.

It wasn’t earlier than normal, it wasn’t colder than the day before and the trip wasn’t any longer.

I had coffee before I left, a lovely cappuccino with a healthy layer of frothed milk and a dusting of chocolate on top.

There were no large fires to detour around and there was hot water in the shower when I got to work.

It’s just that I wanted to stay in bed and hide. I had my little nest and I wanted to stay there in the warmth and safety among all my pillows. Maybe one of the cats would come and visit to make sure I was OK. That was all the interaction I was ready for. Nothing else.

So I’m left feeling like you do when you’re a little kid and one of your schemes is foiled and you say the most heinous you can think of and in my case its “Satans. Jävlar. Skit.” Three Swedish swear words that I used when I was a kid when something went annoyingly wrong out of your control and it made you angry, the kind of angry that makes you want to stomp your feet and pout.

Satans. Jävlar. Skit.

Never let my mum catch me saying that out loud. She would have had words to say about it (but I suspect that behind my back she would have laughed at the stubborn little girl who got so angry over nothing really).
I can say it out loud here. No one knows what it means.

Satans. Jävlar. Skit.

So despite the most fabulous weather and the most fabulous ride home and what is probably a fabulous leek and potato soup waiting for me I just can't get along with this day. I want some love damn it and I want the kind of love that makes you feel really good on the inside. Is it too much to ask for? I should think not. The Universe may beg to differ. In which case we're just going to have to disagree or reach some sort of compromise the Universe and I. I don't want to compromise though. I want some love. I need some love.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Have your say. Go on! You know you want to.

Featured Post

I'll be OK, just not today

My mother has Alzeheimer's. Over the course of six months I have watched from a distance how my mother seems to be disappearing bit...

Popular posts