And I could do with a little
communication rather than me doing all the running. Or maybe I just have to accept that
he's simply another of those young men with whom I have adorned my life who have their
own self-absorbed agenda.
Earlier on I was looking back over the journal entry for the last time that I taught on a course in Oxford - just as I have been doing for the past few days.
The general impression is that I was feeling exhausted and ill. Well, guess what? I've had a cold for the past few days and am feeling pretty tired. I think I got the cold from the gas man, by the way. He had an absolute rip-snorter when he called to do me boiler on Monday and has probably passed it on.
However (good assertive word that), unlike the course in January, I am feeling tired because of the cold not because I was overdoing it. I took time out from the course to rest. I went to bed reasonably early. I didn't struggle to be the pastoral officer for all of the course participants. And d'you know the interesting thing? The course was still a success. The participants still had a good and simulating and learning time of it. And Phil and everyone else still think that I m a star.
Moral? I don't need to run myself ragged to get results.
Another difference from this time to the last is that, in January, I arrived home to a hot meal waiting for me and some reassuring intimacy later on. I had a little weep in bed last night for feeling lonely. I miss Ross's companionship so much.
However, I am also slightly peeved. He was supposed to be coming today to collect his
boxes and this has now moved on another week. Long time ago, I told him I wanted
my house back to me well before the end of June. Now it just feels like it's dragging on.
And I could do with a little
communication rather than me doing all the running. Or maybe I just have to accept that
he's simply another of those young men with whom I have adorned my life who have their
own self-absorbed agenda.
A further thing I have to confess is three or four drags on a cigarette - and then I put it out. Frankly, I just wasn't enjoying it, I didn't like it and it felt all wrong. Maybe I am just smoked out in this lifetime. Though saying that sort of thing is bound to bring on a bout of nemesis.
Anyhow, I'm off to lie down now and listen to some of Rudyard Kipling's Jungle Book as read by Tony Robinson. I might have a hair cut later on. And Kathy is due to come round this evening to watch LA Confidential. Tomorrow, it will be Quakers and Colin's for lunch.
And then it's work again. 