Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Overcast

Looking at the state of the living room - those piles of books here, that pile of DVDs there, the layer of dust on the mantlepiece (I only dusted it last month, I don't know where it all comes from) - I wonder, yet again, if this place couldn't do with the occasional bit of attention by one of those strange chaps with the lumps on the front. Not to do the cleaning and tidying, well not necessarily anyway, but to look disapprovingly or to need to sit down somewhere, that sort of thing. I know how it feels: there have been times in my life when I could have benefited from somebody saying: "you're not going out like that!" or "I think you're over-thinking that one," or, more usually, "you know that thing that you said you were going to do? Did you remember to do it?" Of course, this would need to be said in a gentle and loving way as I don't respond terrifically well to nagging. Mind you, I'm told I don't respond terrifically well to such requests made in a gentle and loving way, either, though I suspect the personal agenda of the source of that opinion.


Anyway, it's all looking a bit untidy at the moment.

Evidently I've gone through some sort of mild depressive episode over the past couple of months. Which is strange as I haven't felt depressed. Tired, yes, but then I have been over-flogging a couple of dead horses. Pissed-off, certainly, but if being pissed off was a key diagnostic for depression then most of the country outside the City of London would be under the doctor for it. And yet... There are things depressives do and I've been doing them. Such as fretting about official letters that won't go away when you put newspapers on top of them and then just turn out to be sales pitches for new gas boilers or new ways of paying your electricity bill by selling your children to utility companies. Or worrying about the local train services - ha! I might as well worry about the state of the customs depot on Krakatoa. And somewhere in one of those four piles of books on the sofa is the book I think I'm reading at the moment. Odd little things that you don't notice yourself until they're dug in as habits but which somebody else might quickly pick up on and challenge. Or not, as the case may be (I've had feedback on that one, too!)

I'll just have to be more careful. All the evidence suggests that we're going to be entering a Winter of dismay, I'll just have to take care not to bring too much of it home with me.

Note to self: buy some Harold Hare comics and a crate of cream soda.

11 comments:

fairyhedgehog said...

It sounds rather sad and lonely. I see you've tagged the post melancholia.

My house would be very dusty if I didn't have a lady who comes and cleans. My excuse is my CFS but I admit it's a huge relief not to be responsible for the cleaning.

I hope the comics and the cream soda work.

Kevin Musgrove said...

Ta Fairyhedgehog. You do realise that I'm just touting for cheap sympathy, don't you? ;-)

fairyhedgehog said...

And mine is as cheap as they come!

nursemyra said...

If you email me your snail mail address I'll send you something to cheer you up. Don't worry - it would be impossible for me to stalk you from Australia....

dinahmow said...

Harold Hare, as lived in Leafy Wood? Well, that should help. How about Rupert?

Kevin Musgrove said...

Ta again, Fairyhedgehog! Yours is a kind soul and I shouldn't tease you.

nursemyra; okay... but if it turns out to be a life-size model of Gough Whitlam made out of marzipan I reserve the right not to accept delivery. :-)

dinahnow: the very same! I could never really cotton to Rupert for some reason.

fairyhedgehog said...

I laughed when I read your comment. Teasing is fine among friends :)

You know, I loved Rupert the Bear stories when I was a kid but I always felt as if they were meant for someone else - that there was something about them that I really didn't get.

Pat said...

Service unavailable!
I wrote a comment and it's gone. I may scream!
In brief have a make over.

Kevin Musgrove said...

Fairyhedgehog: I suppose that part of the charm was that they reflected a world that was gone even when the Famous Five were in nappies.

Pat: ooh... brutal! You can take the lass out of Bacup... :)

zmkc said...

At least one of your problems can be solved by reminding yourself that dust is God's way of protecting the furniture

BrightenedBoy said...

The comics and a crate of cream soda sound like a good idea.

What's important when you're feeling down, or even suspect that you just might be in the near future, is to continue doing what you know you should even though you don't want to. Trust me when I say that I have abundant knowledge of this.

I force myself to go out, to clean my room, to look after my appearance, even on those days when I just don't want to care. Once you start letting little things slide, big ones tend to follow, and the truth is that maintaining a clean space around you and fulfilling your obligations can actually make you feel better.