Some days you should not get out of bed

If you leave me now, you'll take away the biggest part of me, uuuuuuuoh baby please don't go....if you leave me now, you'll take away the very heart of me...uuuuuuu oh baby please don't go..

Maybe I'm just too tired. I keep messing up. I keep not figuring out what I'm supposed to be doing. I go to a bank to get money from a Western Union transfer and I put in the wrong number. I have to amend it. And sign the amendment. I transfer the money directly into a banker's cheque. I put in the wrong amount.

I have been waiting for this talk/meeting at SFX for a few weeks. Day comes, I leave early in the rain and get there in good time. But the second floor is closed off. And there doesn't seem to be any activity taking place on the first floor. In fact, people are leaving. I check my phone to see if I missed something and there is a message saying that the meeting will now be held at St Ignatius. Without calling anyone to check or asking anyone, I immediately assume it's St Ignatius the church. Which will take me hours to get to (well an hour at least) in this rain and this jam. I set off anyway and arrive there and find people streaming into church because it's Thursday and there's the hour of adoration.

I walk around looking for the meeting...and then, only then decide to call Pat, the organiser. She asks me why I would think the meeting would be at another church when it's an SFX thing. I sigh. It's too late to get back. And besides, I spent so long in traffic (I have been driving nearly two hours now) that I just can't face making the same journey the other way. Not in this rain. Not in this jam. Not when I'm so tired and hungry and just so out of sorts.

So I get home and feed the animals and then faff about, knowing at the back of my mind that I should be taking Stella for a walk. I temporise and watch a really awful Malay movie because someone had shared a part of it on FB and I found that part so funny that I really needed to know what happened before and after. And then I bite the bullet and walk Stella... she trots beside me happy, tongue hanging out, knowing that I am not going to shortchange her. There are some things she expects. It's the routine of it. Dogs like routine.

When we get back, Sheba has run away and Ebony sits waiting - so I force him into the house and he keeps me company as I watch a silly Thai ad about the impossibility of women. Yeah, yeah.

Ebony sits on my lap, jumps off, goes to the room (he has decided it's time for bed), comes out again to check on me (because I haven't decided the same thing), nibbles on some of the food he and Sheba left over from dinner, and moves off to where I can't see him. He may be drinking water now. He may have jumped on one of the dining chairs. He likes to perch on them and swing his tail ominously from side to side. Except that he's not really an ominous kitten. He's a cute fat black furball.

Laters.

Running on a treadmill gets you nowhere

Mind's messed up. I wish I could focus. But I can't. I'm spinning my wheels in mud, running in circles, trying to figure out why I can't seem to figure anything out.

So I listen to Bonnie Raitt on YouTube and watch Pretty Ugly People and read Ryan Reynold's tweets and wonder where Ebony has got to and wish I could take in the mother cat because she's lonely and affectionate and she just wants to be loved and safe and I've been feeding her for months now. Considering the situation, the song is appropriate, don't you think?

I'm wondering what is up. Is all this waste matter that is dissipating all the negativity naturally? Does it only have to be uncomfortable for a while?

Here in the dark
in these final hours
I will lay down my heart
and I'll feel the power
but you won't
no you won't....

Ebony is with me now. He's lying next to me and watching me type. He's a warm soft presence close by. And soon I will put away the laptop, stop listening to Raitt on loop and cuddle him and sleep.

Good night.