Getting into attempting to sort my finances out is proving rather involving; i’m merrily planning away using Excel and MoneyCenter (fuck you American spelling) and it’s proving to be quite the Coppell distraction.

Not that I don’t think of him, but smoke and mirrors etcetera.

So tired. Need to get to bed earlier. Ugh.

I’ve been thinking a lot recently as to what i’d like to achieve in the coming year. This has been spurred on mainly by the loss of Coppell and by conversations with friends who are going on exciting holidays, moving in with partners or moving jobs. I never feel like I have enough money to do very much, so having aims might give me a few more options than I do currently. I’ve been feeling lonely without Coppell, so focusing on anything else is a welcome distraction.

What would I like to achieve?

Number One: Move out of the tiny, gross, noisy room i’ve been living in since 2009. It affects my well-being in a negative way. EVERY day.

How will I go about doing this?
- Pay bump in September.
- Cancel my spa membership.
- Save money for deposit.
- Spend less so that I can afford to actually live in said flat.
- Use the Summer to go through boxes of crap and get rid of stuff I do not need.

Number Two: Holiday fund

How will I go about doing this?
- Cancel my spa membership.

Number Three: Make some art

How will I go about doing this?
- Work more smartly at work to free up time I can use on my own work.
- Live somewhere where I have some separate space to create.
- Get rid of crap I do not need.
- Get website up and running.

I think my priority should be moving out. The earliest this could happen would be September, so I need to get my skates on and get organised.

Inspired by a reply to my complaint that any holidays I actually have a desire to go on are faaar out of my budget, I was thinking about other areas of my life where X but Y seem to be the rule.

Great taste… but not enough money
Overworked… yet under-stretched
A valuable colleague… yet under-appreciated
Not very feminine… yet into nail varnish
Can discuss makeup trends… and human experimentation by the Nazi regime
Loves the art of Christianity… yet a serious atheist
Loves medium-rare rib-eye… but also McDonalds
Doesn’t easily express emotions verbally… but writes a novel a year expressing them
Is loud… but shy when meeting new people
Is very restrained with regards intimacy… yet craves touch
Got a lot of love to give… but no-one to share life with

Extracts

















The reviving kiss

Saturday I went with my Mum to Sadlers Wells to see the Ballet Preljocaj production of Snow White; it was meant to be a dark retelling, and had appropriately fetish-inspired costuming by Jean-Paul Gaultier, and a topless deer. Yes, you read that right- when the huntsman killed a deer and substituted its heart for that of the King’s daughter, the dancer was dressed in furry britches, a helmet with antlers and a harness that left her breasts on display. Edgy haha.

A romance with a happy ending was not something I was looking forward to seeing, and so I wept copiously at various points during the performance; I was very glad I was sat in darkness. The entire weekend i’ve felt not the best, either on the verge of tears or down and flat. As time goes on I seem to feel more sad. Ugh.

Much the same: Good days and bad. A lack of giving a shit about things.

I continue to miss him.

And the dog.

Finished glazing Meathead’s bowl today. It had been sitting forlorn and unglazed on my desk, and so I felt the need to finish what i’d started, even if that means sending it to a dog I will never see again, with no guarantee that she’ll ever use it.

It’s in the queue to be fired, so I guess it’ll be done within a week. Then it’s off to Coppell’s Mother for safe-keeping. How can I miss so a not-particularly-intelligent creature that I only spent two weeks in the company of?

Today has not been the best of days.

The weekend brings Lahndahn tahn and some ballet with my Mum, and drinks with Leia Ewok Village, who I haven’t seen in aaages. I’m looking forward to seeing my Mum, the ballet and Leia, but I am worried at the same time. I don’t feel like partying at all, and talking to my Mum over the phone about how i’m doing has been very hard, as she always gives the impression that she doesn’t understand how I feel.

I have to be “on” and don’t want to be the sad sack putting a dampener on everyone’s evening. I also don’t want to bore people. Three weeks ago I probably felt better than I do now. For fucks sake.

Disabled the other dating account this evening. Not feeling the point of even looking for “friends and activity partners” let alone anything else right now, so it’s probably for the best.

This weekend it’ll be one month since things ended… it certainly doesn’t seem like that much time has passed. I still haven’t passed a week without crying, and continue to find it hard to talk about Coppell without experiencing difficulty.

:(

Did a bit of weeding of the communal garden outside my window this evening after work in preparation for the planting of some fragrant and bee-friendly annual seeds; also planted two small Clematis that I picked up during my food shopping expedition post-work. I’ve put them near a wall I hope they can scramble up. It’s raining heavily now so at least they won’t want for water.

Had to fight through lots of Green Alkanet to clear a couple of feet of bare earth; after i’d identified the horrible thing, I discovered that chemical warfare is recommended for dealing with the fucker (it has deep roots). I may get my glyphosate on the next time i’m shopping for food :)

Although the Green Alkanet was a bugger to get through, the experience of half an hour’s weeding was therapeutic. There was an attack of actual sun, and the physical labour and focus on battling the roots was a welcome period of calm.

I hope I manage not to kill the climbers off, but I think the real test is whether or not the seeds get a hold. Think I will leave that ’til i’ve gone Saddam on Alkanet’s arse.

I re-signed up to a couple of dating sites in an effort to get back in the saddle so-to-speak, but I find being disheartened by the available men does not help with post-Coppell recovery.

So the worst one (where I daily received messages from men who clearly couldn’t be bothered to read my profile) I decided to delete my account, and the other i’m just looking for friends and nothing more. Putting myself “out there” but not. I’m *so* not ready for any sort of relationship right now.

When will I feel like actually meeting up with anyone? Who knows. Many months yet I would imagine. I need to get back to that happy medium, and manage to pass more than one week without weeping.

Back to The Good Wife.

I spend my weekdays wishing I wasn’t at work, yet weekends are proving to be equally horrid but for different reasons.

The weekend usually means emotional fuckery and crying as I have time to think about Coppell. It’s not that I don’t think of him during the week (I crawl under the duvet each night and he pops into my head as I hug Patrick), but I guess there’s more time to think. If I go into town on an errand I have to walk near his house (he lives only ten minutes from mine) and I spend most of my time being afraid i’ll see him (which is unlikely) and having my stomach drop through the floor when I see someone that looks a bit like him. Eugh.

Met up with Caversham Princess and saw !Statham! get his “actually able to act” on in Safe (it was incoherent but rather good); we followed the film with dinner and lots of conversation. I keep wondering, when will people not want to hear about Coppell and how I am doing? I feel like I should already be recovered, as y’know, it couldn’t be *that* upsetting as we only spent six months together, and then only four weeks in each other’s company.

I’ve tried a variety of things to help me feel better: cooking, eating more chocolate, extra-long hot showers, masturbation, reading, flowers, wine, TV, friends, but nothing seems to soothe the ache inside. Keeping busy is important, but when I spend my work-week wishing I wasn’t there, finding “something”, whatever that is, is going to prove a challenge.

Then again, i’m approaching my emotional pain like it’s a problem to be solved. But is it? Feelings aren’t always rational, so why should I assume that rational things will deflect the pain?

Sigh.

Lascia ch’io pianga sung by Cecilia Bartoli
from Rinaldo (1711)
Handel

Almost, but not quite wept over this in the car the other evening on the way back from work. It is so incredibly beautiful, and I find it very moving.

I’m tired, and am still not entirely giving a shit or indeed my all at work. This is officially the year i’ve started to put less effort into chasing lazy kids, as i’m fed up with putting all the work in for naught. Taking more of a back seat isn’t necessarily a bad thing, and might help me sleep better at night, as I won’t lie awake worrying about the little darlings.

I feel like i’m just marking time at work. Sure, I interact with the kids, and get things done, but any passion or real interest has evaporated. I’m really looking forward to a three day weekend spent sleeping in, watching seasons of The Good Wife, cooking and generally doing fuck all. Hope to meet up with Caversham Princess for a spot of Statham! watching, so I am looking forward to that.

I’m re-reading Jane Fonda’s autobiography again, for an easy-to-read, woman-to-woman pep talk. She’s an engaging writer, and it’s comforting to read about other women’s travails when i’m disengaged with life, feel sad and miss Coppell.

Yes, I miss him. Ugh.

More even couple of days so far. Nail varnish has been purchased, however i’ve still not felt like painting my fingernails. In sad news, my hot water bottle has decided it can’t hold back any longer and has sprung a leak. No more comforting warmth to cuddle up to until I buy its replacement.

Shit day today. Ever since Jacques and Nina i’ve felt decidedly on the low side, weeping at intervals. Louis Theroux looking at dementia and Sinatra in concert have not exactly helped lift my mood. I’ve hoovered, done some washing up and painted my toenails blue. Very blue.

Just to add to the fun, today I noticed that the occasional small bugs I see wandering around in my shower room have spread to the rest of my living space. I’ve hoovered, washed and bug sprayed the places I think they are coming from to no avail.

I think they’re slithering up from between the damp cracks between the laminate flooring in my room, so I doubt there’s much I can do about them. The landlord doesn’t give a damn, telling my lettings agent that the paint and plaster falling off the wall of the shower is due to people splashing water from the communal shower room adjoining mine. The agent didn’t believe that either.

So bugs, loneliness and another week of feeling put-upon and misunderstood at work. The unbridled joy. I am looking forwards to managing to get through a week when I don’t cry or feel like shit…