And tomorrow, you'll wake up better

I'm not the one you want
But I'm the one who's here
Who will sit by you
Put my warm hand
on your belly.

And I'll croon sweet lullabies
until my voice becomes a hum
because it's soothing
because you may fall asleep
because you may finally
cease to weep
for tonight.

And tonight is all that matters.

I'm not the one you want
the one you want is gone
I'm used to not being the one
It's OK.
I love you anyway.
And I will, love you anyway.

Sometimes you just need
the warmth of a body
next to you
so you can close your eyes
and pretend.
So you can open them
and not feel alone.

I'll be that body.
I will sit with you.

And tomorrow you'll wake up.
Better.

Meandering

So after a few days of rushing around because I made lunch plans and dinner plans and these always left me frantic, I got cancelled on for breakfast (yeah, you read that right, I got cancelled on, I didn't do the cancelling) and so I switched off the phone and decided to stay in and try to figure out my life.

Well, I didn't quite figure out my life. But I did time each activity I do in the mornings because I wanted to know what time I should wake up to cram them all in so I can get to work on time. I have decided to work at work. And not at home. This year has been a bad example of working weekends or staying late (but only because I didn't work during, you know, actual working hours).

I also tried to figure out stuff I wanted to do at night, like, when I get home from work. Yes, I want to get home from work. At a decent hour. Rather than just living there and slinking back late. Really, if I went in on time, I'd get so much done before people started interrupting me.

I also decided that instead of simply accumulating books, I am going to start reading them. I've found that I'm usually too tired when I get home to do any real reading so now I want to assign myself books to get through.

Today, I read The Yellow World by Albert Esposito. I loved it so much...and took some notes. And then I wrote a letter, put it in the book and made a beeline for the nearest post office so I could post it off to my pal, Shelly, one of my yellows. I made a list of yellows (you're supposed to have 23 all in all) and I came up with six so far. Six I can remember. Maybe, seven.

Anyway, if you're wondering what a "yellow" is, here's a definition:

A special person in our life, whom we stroke, hug and sleep next to. They mark our lives and the relationship with them doesn't take time or effort. there are 23 of them in our lives. Conversations with them make us better people and help up discover what we are lacking. They are the next level of friendship.

You got all that? Good.

I've designated one of the notebooks I bought at Popular for random thoughts, quotes, questions of the day, phone numbers for nearby hairdressers (I'm shopping around), diairisng...

Here's something I wrote today:

Meeting some people is like scrubbing your delicate, porcelain heart with sandpaper. You never get used to it; it always hurts. Solution? Minimise contact. As much as possible.

Yeah, so, just some random things.

Sorry for the lack of coherence. I am sure I'm going somewhere with this. One of the things I have decided to do is update this a lot more often. Maybe even every day, from now on.

Tired

I have so many things to do and I'm so tired. Really bone deep tired. It seems like I run and run and run and then fall exhausted on the bed or sofa and blank out for a while. There were so many things I had intended to do today. But I didn't. Well, not all of them.

I met Chubs in the morning and we reactivated Mum's account. A big thing. I fed and walked Stella in the morning and fed the two cats. I fed Stella and the two cats and mother cat in the evening. I delivered Anna's and Addy's and Vas's present to the office. I did the last batch of laundry.

My cats seem content. They are resting after some heavy trencher cat work. Now I have to take Stella out for her evening walk. And maybe go get Dadda the groceries without dropping Stella off there. He wants rice and chicken and cling wrap and Chlorox. Should be a synch.

I am reading Love Letters to Dead People, a young adult novel that I am enjoying very much. Does it say something about me that I enjoy young adult novels?

Ironically my holidays have started which means I can nap without feeling guilty. Except that I feel guilty. When things on the to-do list don't get done.

Yesterday, I was running around all day until I fell asleep on Dadda's sofa while I was supposed to be bathing Sylvie. No matter. I bathed her after.

Tomorrow, I will spray Stella with that anti tick spray because when I was bathing her yesterday I found tens of little ticks...oh dear. All over again.

OK, now got to take her for a walk. Then have a shower. Then go buy groceries and deliver them to Dadda's. Then go for dinner appointment.

Don't think I will be Marking tonight. The very thought of it makes me feel, ugh.

The Comfort of Cats

Here's the thing about cats; they're mostly aloof. They climb on your lap when you're playing with the dogs. Otherwise, they ignore you...maintaining that brand of aloofness that turns you into that pathetic creature begging for love that you always are. And so, you pull back. You remember the faces, you remember the expressions, you remember how they closed over like a fist.

Ebony is sitting on my sofa, grooming himself. He is jet black against the red sofa cover and he looks soft and velvety. What I long to do is go over and gather him up. But if I do that, he will struggle and jump off. Of course I could hold him tight but what's the use? Better not to hang on to one who doesn't want to be hung on to.

I spoke to Bo today. The first time in over eight years. The last time I spoke to him he had called me because I put up something sort of scary on FB...a suicide note...and he was the only one who took it seriously. Because, surprisingly, it was serious.

Some friends you can lose for years and then find again. Some just move out of your life and when you think of them, this irritation starts to rise in your body and you realise, no, I'm not ready to welcome this person back into my life. No, I'm not over what they did or how we ended.

I thought about my aunt who died today and how her last months must have been. But it was not only after she was abducted. Even before that, she was old and neglected and suffering. We all let her suffer, preferring not to think about her. Nobody wanted to take responsibility, pointing to one another and ultimately to her daughter. Who is in the US and had no desire to come back to look after her mother or at least, take her there.

She said, I can't be bothered. Do what you want.

And my aunt said, I'm leaving the house to the lodger.

And now everything is a right mess and they can't find the body.

But Anna pointed out...what's a body after all? The time to have taken care of her was when she still drew breath. All this hustle after the fact is so beside the point. And it doesn't change what you did. And it doesn't change how utterly callous we all were.

It doesn't.

And I am biding my time. Taking one day at a time trying to sort out the work I still have to do before leaving for my holiday. I know not where but I just need to go, disappear. Some place I don't have to write or edit stories. Some place I've never been before. Some place I can take my dogs and cats because I miss them when they're not with me and I worry about them.

My body is aching because we did two rounds around Kiara now and although I was fine while we were doing it, I realise my body is not used to such exertions now. I think I get exercise when I walk the dogs, but is that really exercise? So I put my feet up and feel my knees lock.

There was freak weather today and hailstones rained down on various parts of KL. The winds were so strong that some people found it hard to close their doors. And it was so cold. Of course, hail being ice.

Ebony is curled up on the sofa now. He's sleeping. He looks so comfortable and content.

The Rest of My Life

I think I need to start another blog. I feel another phase of my life coming on. Maybe it's because I'm so tired. Maybe it's because I'm burnt out. Maybe it's because I've stayed in one place for too long and my soul is restless, my body weary and my mind, shutting down, rebelling, refusing to work.

I want to take off on a journey unencumbered. Maybe I need to give the dogs up for adoption. And put the cats into some sort of foster care while I'm gone. Or give them up for adoption too.

I found out yesterday that an aunt I knew died in mysterious circumstances. She had signed over her property to a lodger who then abducted her, removed her from the house to God knows where, shut up the house, sold it and didn't let anyone know when she died. My godmother who is her cousin and relentless, though in England and not here to personally conduct investigations, scoured the hospitals and then the Registrar of Deaths and found this aunt of mine had actually died on February 25. They don't know under what circumstances. And they didn't know how to retrieve her body.

She called me last night. Now you know she was desperate because she called me when she doesn't even speak to me. Yeah, Malayalee families, complicated. She told me about the death and asked if I could help with finding the body.

I asked my friends and sent her a list of things that could be done, should have been done, by the immediate family. Can you believe that they didn't even make a police report?

Anyway, things are in a state of flux. I hope they can find her remains and give her a proper burial. At the very least.

Meanwhile, I need to figure out the rest of my life.