I'm not dead
...and I hope that you consider that good news.
Hello, good day, happy Easter if you celebrate and happy few days of disruption to your life’s rhythm if you don’t. Remember me? In the words of Gerry Adams, although delivered without the perceived threatening undertone, I haven’t gone away you know. I’d love to pretend that I have been deep in a #journey of self development, or some soul enriching endeavour, but that would be untrue. I’ve been figuring a few things out, and have listened to my inner wise woman who asserted that it’s best not to live tweet (Substack) your way through that. I don’t hold that wise woman in high regard, but she does occasionally offer some reasoned logic that I can’t ignore.
Am I any closer to having these things figured out? No. Has life, since I last posted, thrown me a succession of blasts from the pasts, balanced with previously unknown cameo characters in my life? Yes. Did I get the damned house sold? Also yes. Was the associated life admin easy? Absolutely not. London people might not get this, as the city is well organised for the logistical nightmares that come with a house move or sale. In the big smoke, it was simply a matter of making calls and paying people, and (n=0) for the group of friends or family I had to trouble to help. Rural north of Ireland is not set up in a way that allows for things like house sales to be done easily by those of us who are single entities working a demanding full-time job. Rural north of Ireland instead presumes that EVERYONE has somebodies under the cascade of partner/father/family/other assortment of people willing and able to give their time to help. Try as I might to adapt, something like hyper independence kicks in and instead of me simply asking for help, I get stuck in a cycle of cursing the dark, and specifically the lack of Task Rabbit/similar. This isn’t a criticism of Ireland - a sense of community is universally lauded as A Good Thing, and long may it continue. It is a commentary on my incompatibility as an (aspiring) independent single woman, with a society that often relies upon community connections to function.
(FYI I know someone who met her fiancé on Task Rabbit. An app that fulfils more than just your DIY needs, it seems).
What else has been going on
Aside from this, the day job has delivered to me a new project has lit a fire in my belly. It is the kind of project that sane, well adjusted people advised me to AVOID, and also the kind of project that I have the strong urge to run toward and throw my shoulder to the floundering wheel. There is a fine line between passion and unhealthy obsession, and an even finer one between professional fulfilment and external validation. I might never be sure of which side of either line I land on. Regardless, it is nice to feel - good about the wins, and motivated by the misses. Given this, plus the fact that I haven’t replied to a personal WhatsApp this month, and have been struck down (hark!) by three nasty bugs this year, I am surely on a path to burnout. But for now, I’m fully compliant, against my better judgement, in foregoing balance for reward.
Romantically, I a blind date with a man who turned out to have tiny hands and an ex girlfriend of 4 days. He was of the mistaken belief that owing to us both having spent time in major cities (him in New York) that we must have shared opinions on everything, and started sentences with “people like us see these things differently….”. It was…fine. I have no desire to ever see him again mind you, and knowing he works close to me I now have an irrational fear of bumping into him in Tescos on a day that I have a jumbo box of tampons in hand, or have somehow managed to have underwear stuck to my person due to a particularly chaotic morning getting ready in the gym.
Perhaps more noteworthy in the weeks that I have been absent was an acute phase of love bombing by another man. You know the drill: when the bomber goes from zero to declaring love much too quickly, most often to emotionally manipulate the bombee into going out with them, but occasionally innocuously and just because they are a bit mad. I did get as far as drafting a Substack on that - “Help I think I’m being love bombed’ - and I will have to share the full story to write it out of myself. I am pleased to say I called it early and issued a cease and desist order (by way of a WatsApp saying, essentially, ‘catch yourself on’).
Safe to say that it is still a jungle out there, when it comes to dating.
Reading
“The Accidental Soldier” Owaiin Mulligan. Marina Hyde recommended this, and if Marina Hyde says jump in the fire, I’d Geronimo right in. I read it and loved it, and have since sent to friends who have been non-accidental soldiers to enjoy too.
Watching
Married at first sight, Australia - Perfect evening TV that goes some way towards quietening the brain din. SO much to say on it - might have to cover it in a different article but I see
said some of what I want to say here and for that, I salute.Wearing
Mainly gym wear and not only new trainers, but a new brand of trainers: ON Running. As a loyal Asics gal, this is quite the change, and I can tell you something for nothing: these are terrifically comfortable. Top tip: if you have a broader foot, or wear orthotics to correct your running form, opt for mens sizing if you can. They are usually a smidge broader and longer giving more room for the unruly foot and the sometimes bulky orthotic.
I’m sure I have missed posting more than you have missed my posts, but if you are still here, a thousand thank yous. I have given myself a hard deadline of the end of June to free myself from this project, so while I will be time pressured, I’m hoping to post at least once a week, on a Sunday, going forward.
Until next week
Big love
Una
x
Welcome back Una! 👏😘
Good to see you back 💛