My last post didn't end up being quite the motivator I thought it would be. I spent the best part of last week in bed. Not depressed really, but I've been very emotional and crying on and off. That, coupled with the acne I seem to be developing every month, means that I'll be having a longer than normal conversation with my gynaecologist at my next check-up in a month or so. There were a couple of other reasons for me to be emotional this week but nothing that really should have stopped me in my tracks to start crying. I was up early on Monday morning to go to my last counselling session. I'm glad about that but towards the end of it I did talk about meeting my cousin a couple of weeks ago and her talking about my mum, which was a bit upsetting. My mum died thirty years ago this year so it's just one of those things that's a bit more present perhaps. Because contact with my extended family tends to be sporadic it does often happen that they will start talking about Mum and how great she was and how much they miss her. As if I didn't know how wonderful she was but with the added salt in the wound that most of my cousins are a good bit older than me so they got to know her for years longer than I did. At any rate, a more emotional and upsetting session for my last counselling session than I had expected.
Then in the afternoon a friend, who hasn't spoken to me for about eight months now (for no reason I have ever known about), phoned for a very strange rant about something (still not entirely sure what the exact point was) and when I mentioned that she hadn't spoken to me for months and has even flat out blanked me on several occasions, she insisted that wasn't the point because we were never really friends anyway and don't have much in common. That hurt and I was very upset, as, even though we only met a couple of years ago, we spent a year and a half of that time doing a lot together and, I thought, had actually gotten quite close. I have to admit though, it hasn't taken me long to get over it and, although it stings a bit, I'm happy enough to cut her out of my life. It just didn't really help last week. Let's just say Monday was a bit of a wash.
On Tuesday I slept late and only got up because I had a dentist's appointment to get to. Thankfully everything is fine so after making an appointment for my next cleaning and check-up in six months, I left feeling a bit more lighthearted. But when I got home I couldn't find the energy for much other than making and eating a bit of lunch and I more or less spent the rest of the day on the couch. Wednesday was the same with the only difference being that I have choir rehearsal on Wednesday evening so I had to get up and go to that. Our quiet drink after rehearsal turned into two of us staying out until three o'clock. It was nice to have the long chats though and three beers spread out over the evening wasn't doing too badly. The late night meant that Thursday was definitely a bit of a washout. I did get another application finished and sorted out some medical insurance papers (so that I could find the form I needed to submit a claim for a refund of the fee for the cleaning at the dentist - amazing what an incentive the chance of getting money back is!) And then I worried and stressed about a letter I got from the dole office.
Friday morning started out nicely, with a text from my sister to let me know that my niece had her baby early in the morning. A happy, but obviously also emotional event, given that her mum is no longer around to have experienced the birth of her first grandchild. It's a bit mad to think that I'm a great-aunt now. Unfortunately, that was followed by twenty minutes on the phone with the dole office trying to figure that letter out and I still don't understand it, although she did almost manage to convince me that I may not have to pay anything back/have money deducted from future payments because of my side income. I'm due a callback next week to clear up the rest of it. After all that Friday was a washout, too. I finally dragged myself out at five o'clock to get a bit of shopping and then met a friend to go to the cinema. I wanted to go and see Spotlight but my friend at the last minute told me he really needed something more upbeat so we ended up going to see Deadpool. In German. It wasn't as bad as the review I'd read of it. And I did like the bit with the second mask at the end.
This weekend is mostly taken up with choir and rugby. We had rehearsal yesterday all morning and then I rushed to try and get to the pub to watch the Irish match, stayed to watch the Welsh one (very exciting in the last fifteen minutes - the Welsh crowd there were so fun to watch) and then grabbed a bit of dinner before heading back to the pub to offer moral support to a friend who was hosting her son's 18th birthday party there. That was fun actually. We had more than one conversation (among the older people there) about how we all still felt about the same age as the majority of people there. Only the mirror shows the difference! I didn't stay too late and was home before midnight. Had to get the pork into the slow cooker before bed, you see. One of my friends from choir is 40 today and I promised her months ago (jokingly, but not really) that I'd give her a present of pulled pork. She loved it when I made it for a gathering at my place last year and has mentioned it often. She also happens to be the one who's driving me to the concert we're singing this afternoon so I'll be able to bring it to her at her home and she can put it into the fridge if she wants rather than carrying around all day.
Wow, that ended up being far more of a brain dump post than I was planning on. I'll save my comments on the book I'm reading, Escape Everything!, for tomorrow. I'm only on Chapter 1 and I've already had three or four moments when I've wanted to underline something. I loathe writing in books but this is one with an awful lot in a very small amount of space so I may just have to get over it. As a matter of interest, though, how do you feel about writing on books? Fiction or non-fiction, do you ever read something that you want to highlight or make notes on? Does it irritate you when you're reading a book and it has been written in, even if you're the one who did the writing?