Sometimes people need reminding that they are important. Life is pretty big and crazy that we can feel like tiny outcrops of rock being hammered by the waves of live, slowly eroding us until we disappear beneath the surface.
Today Mrs G could do with remembering that, life in the last few weeks has been pretty choppy and she has felt a bit she was alone. She thinks she has a lighthouse of rejection warning ships to steer clear. Yet that’s not the case.
In fact I had a post that tells her exactly what I think of her from the archives…
I am a Rock
The lights are not on when I get home, mainly due to the sun setting at 7:46 tonight so would be terribly energy inefficient of me but also because there is nobody to go home to. I’m reliving the bachelor life while Mrs G is visiting family in New York which means I’m having to adapt to doing everything myself.
This is almost my ideal situation as I’m something of a lone wolf who likes to live by their own code and do what they please. In reality it just means I’m a fusspot who has low-level compulsion for things to be done in a way that suits them.
Last weekend I had a simple plan. Go home, drive to chip shop and get bag of chips and jumbo sausage and curry sauce, go home, eat chips, watch TV, go to bed, get up and cook pack of bacon and half pack of sausage and tinned tomatoes and a fried egg, drink multiple cups of tea, watch more tv, go back to bed, sleep, get up, go find some Sunday dinner, watch tv, go to bed, sleep, get up then go back to work.
Unlike most plans I actually accomplished all of this, and it was nice to just do nothing and not have to deal with anybody else’s circumstances. A one point I even decided to give the bathroom a complete bleaching because I just fancied doing it. No worrying about anyone being in the bath, or using the loo, or complaining about using the flannel to clean the toilet seat because of “hygiene”. I could just do what I wanted and consequences be damned.
I got hungry so I ate, I got thirsty so I drank, I wanted to spend an hour on the loo reading Wisden I could. I could even watch all the movies that make Mrs G give me that look which says “I love you, and would never say that I am hating this movie but seriously this could be damaging our unborn child because it is so awful”.
Yet there was something missing, I didn’t really fancy eating and couldn’t really sit and watch the TV for a long period of time. After 10 years of singledom the year of living with someone has made the solitary life seem a little empty. Last night I sat and ate my dinner on a Hangout with Mrs G and it was nice to sit and talk about the day even when 3,000 miles apart.
I may still be a rock, but the sea is eroding away the veneer.
Mrs G is the sea, it’s a metaphor.