I’m so tired.
When I got back from my psych appointment (which was fine, by the way – more later) I needed a rest (it’s exhausting being a psychiatric patient) so I lay down for a few minutes (famous last words) and fell asleep. It didn’t feel like December in my bedroom: the tumble dryer was on so it was hot and humid even with the window open and the sun was steaming in with only blue skies visible from my sideways, throw-myself-on-the-bed position.
An hour and a half later… I woke up, having planned to be in town (for ElsaDaughter to do her Christmas present shopping -yeah,we truly are last minute everything) early to avoid the peak chaos hour. Whoops, missed that.
Finally made it in, after some faffing about. One shop later: hot, prickly sweats in full flow, “Can we have a break now?”, I asked. In fairness, it was Leading Luxury Retailer Over Seventeen Floors so it felt like considerably more siopaí than one.
I miss The Good Doctor, just sayin’. Thinking about him a lot today after I thought I saw him in town.
Luckily, ElsaDaughter is a more efficient shopper than My Lady and it didn’t take long although we did nearly come to blows outside Neary’s when I needed a Coke and a sit down and everywhere was jammers.
She’s now wrapping her pressies and Bing is crooning in the tree light.
I need to get up and bake and pack. I’d really like to have another nap instead.
Thankfully, Monet was in town too and he met us in a coffee shop. He has such a calming effect on me. I felt very chilled after we regaled him with bizarre stories of Christmases past chez Rocker.
Big shout out to The Rose who sent me a very sweet message this morning after my moany Interlude. It’s the little things, I’m telling you!
We have two euro fifty to a homeless man who had a lovely dog called Millie. She was so clean and healthy, all snuggled up in blankets beside him as he looked on at the frantic shoppers emptying their bank accounts and filling their car trunks,homes and consciousness with shite. The juxtaposition was stark and I felt guilty for all the crap I’ve coveted and bought over the years. He was a lovely chap and I walked away with a crack in my heart (as well as my phone screen, which I dropped) and eyes glistening, and not because of the regal festive lights on our premium commercial thoroughfare.
Then we walked home. And I need another Coke.