Angry Shiny

Warning: This post is extraordinarily, self-indulgently, navel-gazily me-me-me.

I just realised something. I’m cross. Not just a little bit cross, but seethingly angry, as if my insides are snakes. On the outside I have my Shiny Suit on that makes me look just like Shiny – dark-haired, smiley, even-tempered and relatively good-natured. It’s just a shell, though, that looks like me. Inside the snakes are a-slithering.

I’m angry at everything, everybody, the world and its brother. There are a whole lot of different snakes, the work frustration, the other frustration, the admin pile, the unhappy pile, the other pile, etc… each a snake, slithering and sliding, snapping at each other’s tails, and me.

I know I need to get out, to get air, to breathe and at the same time I know I have to gain some kind of acceptance of where I am now but… I. Don’t. Want. To. That acceptance stuff all sounds like a bunch of self-help hoo-ey. And you know how I feel about self-help hoo-ey.

Instead, I’d like to lie on the floor and kick and scream and stop breathing until I’m blue in the face and then take a huge lungful of air, and scream some more. Which all sounds very adult and productive and, we all know, including me and my slithery snakes, that it probably wouldn’t make me feel any better anyway, so I shan’t subject the poor people around me to it.

Instead, I’ll keep hatching plans in my head, looking up into the sky and breathing, breathing, breathing.

Very important thoughts

My mind is a-flutter and a-flitter, like a tangling mass of earthworms in a worm farm (doing my bit for the Green Revolution, by metaphor). I have things to think about, I am swaying back and forth, a pendulum of indecision, a writhing collection of uncertainty.

Instead of trying to sort it out in my mind by writing it on this here page, I will leave you with the thoughts I keep returning to, in an attempt to not drive myself completely mad.

1. Are there lots of turkeys in Turkey? Or, at least, just one.
2. Why is it ‘turkeys’ and not ‘turkies’?
3. Wouldn’t it be a good idea if our eyelids made a noise when we blinked? I think so. Then you’d know if people are awake or asleep, without having to look. Maybe a gentle tinkle, like those old-fashioned bells people have on shop doors. But a bit softer.

Important stuff, isn’t it?

Pea Soup

You know that soup that’s made with the little round green things, all mushed up together, quite often with ham? That’s what is in my head today. That soup. I’m not entirely sure why. It is the most beautiful day here in the city below the mountain, something that would normally electrify my being and make me grin. But not today.

Today I feel like I’m stuck in some very gooey mud and my Pea Soup Brain is not helping with trying to work out how to unsquelsh myself. There are some things happening this week that are making me angsty and edgey, a state of being I am not fond of. It is making my head swirl stodgily, it’s soup sloshing lazily.

And the thing is, I should still be floating in amongst the clouds, being all happy and fluffy, because I spent the weekend out in the country in the most beautiful spot where I watched the clouds melt off the mountains to reveal a vast blue sky and the sun shine on the very beautiful Nguni cows in the paddock next to the house, and ate delicious food and drank champagne and played games with lovely friends… ahhh.

Perhaps that’s part of it – I wish to be back there, on that wraparound stoep, with my glass of champagne, book, and a view to forever.

Why-oh-why do I have to be a Real World Worker?