This week has been very much the story of the week in between with the Belfast trip at one end and Ross arriving in advance of taking over tenure of his new flat at the other.
As promised, the weekend was quiet. I watched Good Will Hunting on video which was good. It just about steps on the right side of mawkishness and there was one telling moment when Robin Williams' counsellor keeps telling Matt Damon's boy miscreant that "It's not you fault" until he breaks down in tears.
Well, I was with him all the ways into deep sobs there. Something way, way back had told me that it was my fault and that I had to do whatever to make things right again. Either I had to make people laugh again or I had to persevere in a world of unpredictable adults doing things to make things better again or I had to watch myself carefully because just when I thought I could relax and have fun those crazy adults would kick off again.
Anyhow, Robin Williams was his usual good value. I can't see what all the fuss is about Matt Damon. He's not a bad actor. I just don't find him very engaging and, for me, he's still just too much on the side of puppy fat even though he's supposed to be 27. Ben Affleck cropped up again and was quite fetching. Matt Damon is supposed to have been to Harvard so presumably he knew about the University side of Good Will Hunting. Ben Affleck, looking like a young Daniel Day Lewis, certainly fitted into the working class Irish element. I wonder if that's his background.
So, Monday morning and it was back to work and, of course, the kids were well back to school. Those precious few weeks when the roads are clear in the morning are well over. You know, if John Prescott is really serious about cutting back on the amount of traffic on our roads, he could do worse than imposed a surcharge on schools in built up conurbations accepting pupils from further away than walking distance. I'll swear that a goodly proportion of our traffic problems are caused by the family car bussing schoolkids some from A* to B* and others from B* to A* when the ones in A* should go to school in A* and the ones in B* should go to school in B*. But what do I know.
A site visit to a training company left me with an early break from work so I did a little local shopping and came up with a foam-filled pillow for bath in the shape of a goose and a set of wind chimes which hang in the bathroom. Both are super-conducive to further relaxation.
Tuesday after work I went for a drink with an old friend and colleague, Paul. We managed three pints in a couple of hours which is far less than our storming years and I'm afraid that I actually smoked a cigarette (This was completely silly since it is now over six months since I stopped smoking but the combination of the pub, the alcohol, Paul, Paul smoking and our history of hell raising together made it a near inevitability - I haven't wanted another I should say). Anyhow, I felt completely lousy the day after and I'm not sure whether that's just retribution for bad behaviour or whether it's autumn arriving or whether it's the general level of panic creeping up on us at work.
Work, ah work. You can feel it already. The start of term looming and normally sane and rational people beginning to behave like prickly bears. I got a chewing out for not having done something trivial. I'm feeling other people trying to dump on me. People are trying to get out of things. My colleague is getting a sort of preferential treatment that I have noted and said my piece about. And another colleague has been given a covert advancement which, whilst it may be merited, has put everyone's nose out of joint.
So, it was good to go to healing on Wednesday night and let go of some of the crap. I had Alistair, who I had not seen before. It was really good to have healing from a kind and gentle man. Most of my healing, so far, has come from women. This is itself is good as I probably needed the counter-balance to all the male energies I've surrounded myself with for the past decade or more. But it was nice to be reminded that men can do this as well. He is a chunky hunk and, I have to confess, he pressed my buttons. This was inconvenient in healing terms as it sort of got in my way. I don't know what it did for Alistair. He did recognised my emotional turbulence, however.
I'm not quite sure what it is with me and chunky hunks at the moment. As I've mentioned elsewhere, there is one particular type I have and certain friends and partners like Brian, Nigel, Ian, Andy, Keith and Ross definitely come within that pattern. I'm not sure where the chunky hunks come from. Maybe there's another archetype for me somewhere which leads to people like Norman, David, James and others like Craig and London Keith from way back.
Anyway the people who are catching my eye at the moment (like
Alistair) seem to be in the chunky hunk mode. There's new lad, Jonathan, at work who
has confessed that he and his girlfriend have just split up. I have commiserated. I
have drawn back from offering him succour. And then there's Alexei
Gromoff who is a model from the Kristen Bjorn stable. Definite Phwarr material.
Thursday and Friday were a mass of meetings at work and I felt more and more tired each morning as I got up. I don't think that I want to be quite so out of it this early in the darkening season. Maybe it's time to start the multivitamins.