A Brief Respite

Well, The Child is back at school so I am enjoying an empty house once more.  It’s so peaceful.  I can get a cup of tea and drink it with no interruptions.  I’ve managed a whole chapter of my book.  In one go.  Without losing my place.  It’s heaven.  Or would be if I weren’t now bored.  Just one week playing slave to The Child and I’m feeling a bit lost.  I can do what I want.  I have total freedom.  It feels so alien.  But it is a brief respite.  The summer holidays are almost upon us.  I can barely survive a week alone with The Child.  How will I survive six weeks?  I managed it last year, but she was younger then, less demanding possibly.  Then again perhaps she was more demanding then.  I don’t remember.  I guess I’ve just blocked out the memories.  Repression perhaps.

So, this morning I’ve had three giant cups of black coffee.  I’ve had my breakfast.  I’ve done a job search, which proved fruitless.  I’m not qualified to be a chef.  And that was the only job that’s come up since Saturday, when I last did a job search.  So, I’ll check again tomorrow then.  Anyhow, I’m wondering what else I can cram in, so as to avoid doing the essay.  I know I need to do the essay really.  I shouldn’t leave this one until the last minute.  The last time I did that, and the time before, I regretted it immensely.  But I’m the queen of procrastination.  Perhaps I’ll do it after lunch.  It is only 1,250 words after all.  Oh, and the 750 words essay about my personal development since starting the course.  I’m more sure of what I want I think now actually, but given I’m kind of stuck knowing what I want is actually not a good thing.  In my opinion anyway.  Yeah, I have something to reach for, but knowing I’ll probably get there is making me wonder what the point is.  Yes, I need to look at my CBT notes again.  There is a point.  I’m just being miserable again.  Joy.

So, I have a brief respite from the school holidays.  I am dreading them.  I need something to make me feel better.  Perhaps I could construct an angry letter to a certain person.  If I write it on paper, then I won’t accidentally send it.  I can get all my thoughts and feelings down, and then rip it to shreds.  That might feel good.  And then I might get my guitar out.  And then I might think about starting this essay.  Sounds like a plan.  Wow, I actually have a plan.  Woohoo.