It's been a bad week. There's been much that's needed sorting.
I started feeling bad from Monday morning onwards. I got up 7.30am as per usual on a Monday, had breakfast and then celebrated the Bank Holiday by going back to bed for an hour's snooze. By the time I got up again, it felt like the world was on my back.
I knew that the issues revolved around Ross but I wasn't sure which were uppermost. It was either to do with the nature of the relationship - are we an ongoing couple or not - or his request for storage space. As I thought it through it became obvious that it was more to do with the latter than the former.
I had a meal with Matthew and Sean that afternoon. It was good to see them but I was on edge the whole time, wrung out and stressed.
So I got to having various talks with my next-door neighbour Kathy, Gill, Brixton Colin, Lowestoft Colin and Phil. I was partially wanting their advice and partially wanting to work things out by talking.
By Wednesday I knew that I have to ask Ross to remove his things. I didn't have any clear idea and to the whys and wherefores. I just know that having his things in my house was doing my head in and that I couldn't agree to an open ended commitment which might leave me offering storage space up until September or beyond.
Wednesday night I just knew that I had to go to healing for a quick de-fizz. Because of various bits and bobs, I ended up with Margaret which was nice. And, by Thursday morning, I felt a lot calmer. Now it is just a matter of biding my time until Ross gets back from Doncaster so that I can speak with him.
Friday was supposed to be a trip to Hammersmith to see a piece by Robert le Page which would have been wonderful but Gill felt unwell and cancelled and then I thought that I didn't want to hang around in central London til 8.30pm before it started so I came home and went out to Epping to see her and spent a very pleasant evening chatting.
Saturday I rang Ross's home to find out if he had returned and spoke with his father and outlined the situation. Well, I guess that may have been cowardly and it's not that I don't intend to speak to Ross but I now know that his family know and that they can choose whether or not to help out.
I spoke with Brixton Colin that afternoon and found that he had a bad knee and was in pain. So, I'm now going round to see him on Sunday afternoon in advance of a dinner party in the evening.
Saturday night brought my last trip to ENO of the season - Massenet's Manon. Very good, well acted, well sung, well characterised, well costumed. Production was mostly OK and I would willingly go again. Which makes Falstaff, Tales of Hoffman, Il Trittico and Manon of this year's new productions which I would happily see again. Four in a season. It has been a long time since that was the case.
Sunday and the meal passed well. I arrived home at 10.30 to find a message on my answer machine from Ross. I didn't think I could ring then.
So, as I'm having Monday morning off to wait for the gas man to call, I'll call him then. And I'm also going to use the morning to start a little tidying of things in the loft.