I have been giving this some thought today. It is Monday, I am fine. I have been at work and talking with other people, laughing a bit at lunch, chatting in general. And this is enough. I am happy to come home, face book a bit, msn chat a bit, phone call to a girlfriend and then cook, hang out washing, strip the bed, cook some muffins. Eat. It is fine. I am happy. Tomorrow, as I mentioned, I am off to the beach (Seaside - so English, I used to call it the seaside when I was a child, always call it the beach now. Why? Seaside is so much better) with a whole group of friends and I am looking forward to that a lot.
Monday to Friday is great, even if I have a "bad" day at work, it is still better than a day alone at the weekend. I can come home and just chill and be happy.
The weekends yawn ahead of me, an unfillable chasm. Everyone is off doing their own thing with their own familys. And I fret. And chafe. And get depressed and then feel guilty because I live in paradise and I love it, but I hate to be alone for two days. And I know I am being pathetic and I should get a grip and count my blessings and I know and I will and I do!!
All those activities I have signed up for are on Monday - Friday. And the weekend is still an abyss. How the bloop am I going to fix this? Do I just suck it up, build a bridge, get on with it and stop bloody whinging? Whinging Pohm! Do I just keep going in the hope that I get used to it. Do I actively try to fix this and fill the weekends with interaction of some description. I am not asking the question really, I am just talking out loud and to myself, but if you have any opinions on this, do feel free to air them.
On Saturday, I was chatted up on the beach. Which is amazing and has never happened to me in my whole life before. Ever. I was in my usual beach gear of rashy and very battered hat, my equivalent of a gardening hat or a fishing hat. I love my beach hat but it's not exactly eye catching for the right reasons! Anyway, there I am sitting innocently under my shade umbrella with my nose in my book, when an Irishman appears and by the end of a couple of hours, he is under my shade and drinking my water! And swimming in my space! Amazing and fun, I didn't mind. He is on holiday and I am not in the market for gratuitous sex any more. Oh no. He did cheer me up, but you know, that is not what I want and I certainly don't want a fling of any description with someone on their holiday! Two weeks and he's gone? Chuh! I should cocoa!
What I want is lots of friends. Girlfriends. I am still recovering after all from 3 years of mistaken identity. I am not, categorically not, on the market. So, I was cheered up and then I wasn't cheered up at all. It would be good if I could just give myself a good talking to and that work. But it doesn't. What works is going back to work! What a laugh. And maybe that's all I can do, laugh at the vagaries of the human mind and mine in particular. Lovely little mind that it is, aaah. Bless!