Very Little Ice Hockey

It’s another sunny day here in London and my shoulders are a bit red from yesterday’s walk around the park coupled with this year’s first sprinkling of freckles across my nose. The only downer is work and I lost the will to live as soon as I got in. I do need to grab life with both hands now instead of this ridiculous bobbing along, as comfortable as it has been mostly. There is nothing I can complain about – my job is a nice one, the pay is reasonable, it’s close to home and my bosses are super lovely – but I’m making a dog’s dinner of it because for some reason I’m just not pulling myself together. I should do exactly what hubby told me – JUST GET ON WITH IT – and I do, hand on heart, have the intention to do just that every goddamn morning, but then I look at it all and it just seems so pointless. I must be a terrible person because lots of people are in jobs that in no way resemble their passions and yet pull themselves together and do what they do really well. Why don’t I? Am I just a spoilt brat who’s spitting her dummy out when things aren’t exactly the way she wants them? Quite possibly.

No more procrastination now. It’s been a lot of talk and very little ice hockey for yours truly. I can talk about my would-be book for hours. I can discuss my characters and every arch of the story in great detail and it’s quite often that I come up with yet more detail and different turns for their paths to take, yet…. Equally, I talk and talk about selling the jewellery I make. And yet…. It’s all talk. Is it a fear of failure? I have no idea but this can’t go on because it’ll drive not just me but everyone around me crazy too eventually. Why am I only talking – and not DOING – these things that are 100% within my grasp? OK, so perhaps not the would-be book but I’ll never find out if I don’t fucking write it, will I? The jewellery though – I have probably 20 pieces, rings and necklaces, that are good enough (some I’d even say are gorgeous) to sell. So why don’t I? The short term goal isn’t even an ambitious one! I just need to sell roughly 15 pieces a month to match my income and that’s not exactly unrealistic. It’s time to just do it now, do what hubby says: JUST GET ON WITH IT.

Life is too short to waste on either doing something that feels pointless or being held back because of worry you’ll fail. No more of that shit. Hubby is spending tomorrow with the eldest boy, the middle one is at his mum’s and the youngest will in all likelihood take off to see friends so I have Saturday to take good photos of each piece and then freaking create those Facebook and Etsy pages. I like meaningful dates and I’d like to cram a bunch more into 2018 given I started the year by stumbling across that momentous day I’d longed for: Tuesday 23rd of January 2018, the day I started living again. And so Saturday 21st of April can be the day when I started doing again. Right? Let’s go! Haha, I just realised I’ve picked tomorrow. I was always all about ‘tomorrow’ when I was still drinking. I’ll quit tomorrow. Start Monday. Dry whichever month. Diet. Start running again. Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. Nah, I mean it this time, see? Hahaha, I always used to say that exact thing too. Do you have enough faith in me and the patience to believe me one last little time? The girl who cried ‘tomorrow’.

Life on the Pink Cloud continues to deliver and feel ridiculously good. Took hubby to our favourite pub on the river – where we met almost five years ago and where we celebrated our wedding almost a year ago – and enjoyed a pint of soda with fresh lime when he had a pint of cider. Weirdly, when I saw Willow earlier in the day I did for a few seconds have the image of wine pop into my head, yet sitting on the wall by the river the thought didn’t even enter my mind. Funny – Willow is precisely the sort of chick I would have loved drinking with. The thought quickly took me to the scenario it would have been though: thoroughly enjoying a couple of drinks and talking about stuff, but equally being taken over by the obsessive planning of how to get home, get wine on the way and drink my head to bits. It will never be what my alkie brain sometimes wants to make me believe – EVER. I’m a drunk. I can’t drink in that “normal” and enjoyable manner, unfortunately.

Blue is drinking but claims to have it at a level she is happy with. Ivy got in touch to say she was enjoying the sunshine yesterday and I imagine she is as usual analysing life in great detail, she’s a very introspective lady and likes to trace and untangle each thought.  Phoenix I assume is fine and Sparks too, along with those super star AA people who live by the Big Book and have it all figured out. Sophie is doing good in that she doesn’t want to drink so I suppose the world is how it should be just about now.

Sophie just needs to get her shit together. OK, so now we’re sober – hurrah and well done and whoop-dee-do – but it’s time to return from the honeymoon and get this show on the road now that we have a fully functioning brain in a body that feels steady and strong.


Today I won’t drink.

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