In this interregnum I can only dream.
The trouble with expecting to be well soon, but not being well now is that there is very little I can actually do. I am walking the dog, eating, pottering about, and spending ridiculous amounts of time on the internet looking on Homeswapper for possible swaps. You’d think that I would have had enough of moving house after all the horror of last time, and it is a BIT stupid to try and second guess how well I am going to be and what I am going to be doing with all the wellness.
It started with the usual thing of going to Brighton and thinking I must go back on Homeswapper and move here, when, in reality, I think I really just like visiting. Just like lots of other people do. Visiting, and catching up with friends, looking at the sea, thinking how nice it would be to live at the seaside, and then going home again. To my home, which, incidentally is something like 10 meters from a river. A perfectly good river. Anyroads. Anyroads, instead of mooning around searching Brighton, I have been looking within London, and mainly within 5 miles of Shoreditch, which I think we can agree *is* the centre of London now.
The other thing is, though, is that there are quite a few people looking to downsize. I don’t know if this has been spurred by the bedroom tax or not, but there are a good few two, and even three, bedroom properties on. Listen to me! “Properties” like I was an estate agent or something. Anyway, what with the possibility/probability of a PhD in the offing I am becoming rather aware that this flat hasn’t got quite enough elbow room for my liking. The big compromise would be giving up the garden, and even more than that, probably, the river.
You know Ganesh? Well, did you know how he got his head? I didn’t. I assumed that he just came that way, because Hindu stuff is kind of magicky and a god with an elephant’s head seems just as reasonable as all the rest of it. Anyway, it turns out he wasn’t born that way. Probably to the relief of his mother.
When I went to the British Museum the other week, and went on a short tour of discovering just how exquisite my back pain can be, we stopped off at Ganesh and the chap who was giving us the tour told us how he came to be the way he is. It turns out that Shiva had been away for a really long time. And I mean a REALLY long time. His wife probably could have stepped out on him, I mean I guess she had to be pretty special to be married to a top god like that, so she probably could have had as many flings as she liked. And he was away a LONG time. So he comes back and sees this fit young lad hanging around. Rather assuming he was being cuckolded he cut the lad’s head off with a sword. Turns out that he was in fact DRN DRN DRRRRRN!!!!! his own son!
Being a god, he could probably have just put the head back on and everything would have been fine. But in his grief he apparently decided it would be best if the next creature he saw would provide the new head. Happily, considering what other creatures there are in the world, the first sentient being he came across was an elephant. So there you are! Ganesh always had something to talk about at dinner parties. How’s that for a teenage angst story?
So, back to me. Thursday I get botoxed again, so I can start attacking the massive list of stuff I have to do. Not least of which is to do some reading and rewriting for the PhD application. And then what? I don’t know. I mean, I have plenty of short term tasks to do, but I am not used to being able to have plans, so this thing about wanting to move again could just be part of wanting control over my life in some way, or it could be the sensible next step, if I am really going to write. I do know that I need a great deal of focus and quite a lot of space to write. I don’t write in a very linear way – I get all my ideas down then I print them off and look at them on the floor and rearrange them like that before editing. One time I gave a paper at a conference which was literally a scroll of sellotaped together sections – but I’d done a rewrite after printing and didn’t have another chance to tidy things up before the conference, so I went in with a piece of paper several feet long.
It is nice having a garden, though. Oh, I don’t know…