“Let me weep over my cruel fate”

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

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.

2 Responses to “Let me weep over my cruel fate”

  1. S says:

    Hi M,

    In short, let me just say, holy f*ck. I haven’t swung around for a while and am traveling, recovering from the stomach flu (on the heels of getting thrown off a horse on St. Pat’s Day) So, as is my wont, I figured I’d stop by and last I knew things were rosy. But I find this. Things I think you should (and probably do) know: 1) you, a least in writing :), seem as witty and bright as ever (which = his loss); 2) isolation (of a sort) is a given in a committed relationship – it is a choice the partners make to say “I choose you.” but you’re right, it’s not a death sentence for a social existence by any means. And, yeah, these are just my thoughts, and frankly they don’t help you one iota. So all I can say is I am sorry. You deserve better. And were you our neighbor this would be the point where we fetch the tequila and a lime.

    • monky says:

      S- Good to hear from you! I’m sorry to hear you and the horse didn’t get on so well; I hope the resulting injuries weren’t too serious? Puking and broken bones = not a good combo I imagine.

      Yeah, holy fuck is a pretty good description. I am still gobsmacked at how someone can seemingly completely change from the kind and caring person I knew to really-kind-of-a-prick.

      The isolation issue I was concerned about is more of a “I am divorced now! Why should I be isolated from all these vaginas?!” I can understand this, but the massively underhand way Coppell went about things is super fucked. I think I was collateral damage, hit by the fallout from a relationship that I had no part of.

      I am quite ready for a mature and committed relationship, and that is what I am looking for. Coppell was, apparently, not. This makes it all the more frustrating, as I think it is a case of “right person, wrong time”. I couldn’t do anything about it, and a relationship is meant to involve two people.

      I’ve kept my sense of self and value do not worry; I know i’m a fairly unusual individual and I know that Coppell is *never* going to find anyone quite as fabulous as me. I’m a rare beast of high value. His loss indeed, but it still hurts, especially when I thought that i’d fiiinally found someone worthy. I miss him.

      Not much of a fan of tequila, but if you fetch me some rum, tonic and lime i’d be most appreciative!

      Hope you and yours are all well…