Tuesday 6 October 2009

Sliding doors moment

I was talking to him a few weeks ago, trying to explain how I can sometimes consciously feel the pull and power of going this way, rather than that. I pick up .5mph as I trust in my intentions and decisions. And it feels so fine. I was at Holborn station, 5 steps from the barrier, and if I'd have beeped through I wouldn't have change my mind and come back. Instead I checked my phone, and trawled to Dalston on the bus for a post pick-up. My momentum fell apart when no-one answered the door; I arrived home two hours after I left, instead of 45mins. The mohitos were too late for me. I planned a Wednes Day.

I hate it when I feel like I've slipped down the gap of a decision. Had I arrived home at 9.15 I most likely would have popped to mohito hour on the back of swing dancing. But after mail fail I just felt too tired and flat to feature at the party. I'm already feeling a pull in house dynamics, I mean obviously. 'Hibernate' was default mode this year, a mere listen out would clear the coast for an underwear-clad toilet trip. Now I am on guard. I have that school trip feeling, where you do not yet know this group to which you now belong, an uneasiness. A strangeness. Surrounded by so much potential stimulation, at what point do you retire? When is the potential lost, when is me time?

It clearly has something to do with growing up surrounded by people, or not. I wasn't, it was me versus the adults, play time restricted to outside the house, in daylight hours. I suffer a kind of fear at having people so close, I sometimes don't know if I want them, or I want alone time, or I'm too layered to have a First Conversation, what-do-you-do's and the like. True small talk with people I don't yet know enough to complain about work, or the ten thousand hours thing, or the fact that I'm still, even now, screwed over this whole ridiculous life change, wondering the extent of Google Logistics' revelations.

Today at work was ok. The chronic boredom tired me out before I got chance to enjoy it. I miss my bike. I enjoyed my outfit. I enjoyed the dancing and vow that it is very sociable and not at all sexual and they are younger and it was a lot of fun, and perhaps I will make friends with Rosamund Pike one day. I just did feel a little desperate, scanning this room, holding hands with strangers and judging them in steps. I am jealous of him. I am wondering about my mode to move on. She asked me what I was thinking at work, to get through the chronic action, and I hesitated. The truth is I am mulling a lot of stuff over in my head, over and over, and hopefully soon I will sit down seriously, with a calm mind and light heart, and see some way of moving actively forward. I want to feel that power and satisfaction of knowing I'm going the right way, even if not knowing exactly where.

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