The kind of impotence Viagra shrugs helplessly at
This has been a week of frustrations. Some minor and obviously irrational - being unable to convince my garden to actually grow*, for instance, or to convince my sick cat that I'm doing it** because I love him. Some less so.
Case the first: being unable to convince my Fabulous Friend that she should definitely make a move on her crush while she has a window of opportunity. Consider: thirtysomething, stylish, stable and solvent. Owns a lovely and large flat in a smartish London suburb (where she lives alone - unheard of!), has a full social life and a wide range of interests. Does things where others just talk. Has hiked around Peru and Mont aux Sources; taught English in Turkey, Italy and Croatia. As happy to go out (or on holiday) on her own as with friends. Catch, right? She doesn't see it that way At All and I can't persuade her to believe in herself.
Case the second: being unable to get inside Esteemed Father's head and fix the wiring that keeps getting him into financial messes - not through any hopeless profligacy, but simple lack of organisation. He moved to the UK two years ago and has had an exceptionally hard time (including breaking up a 20-year relationship). Starting over in a new country is hard enough under any circumstances; he's had to do so at an advanced stage of life, with almost zero assets and few connections, while undergoing emotional trauma of all kinds. By the start of this year things were looking up significantly: he had home, work and social life all pretty much sorted out, and seemed set to get back on his financial feet in short order. But suddenly he's a bit screwed again, and it was all so avoidable.
He'll be okay. He'll fix it. But I'm not convinced the cycle won't repeat (I've seen it a few times before).
I thank all the little godlings that I'm tougher than my parents. I didn't inherit the genius gene, but I did get the nous that they both so badly lack. Much more valuable.
Anyway, enough of that. It's dripping steadily outside and I have to go meet friends for a Sunday roast on Wimbledon Common - which sounded far more attractive in the midweek sunshine than it does now. Still, girly chat can't be bad. And tonight I'm going to the ballet for free! If corps in corsets don't cheer me up, I don't know what will.
_____
* Although I have certainly given it my best shot, spending most of yesterday digging, composting, planting, mulching and weeding the damn desert into submission.
** "It" in this instance being: shoving him in a cage, taking him to see a Bad Man** who stuck a stick up his bum and a needle in his back, then starving him for over a day and - the final insult - pushing large bad-tasting pills down his throat. No wonder the poor thing's upset.
*** Actually a very pleasant and sympathetic Afrikaner, but I don't think Harvey sees it that way.
4 comments:
My sympathies to Harvey. What's wrong with him scroob?
I envy you. You get to do things like go for Sunday roasts and watch the ballet on weekends; I stayed home in my pajamas finishing up a shiteload of homework.
And oh God I hope your Fabulous Friend comes to her senses. It's a crying shame when women like her don't realize how amazing they are.
Harvey had some kind of digestive bug but the antibiotics seem to be doing the job. I suspect he has a very sensitive stomach and I'll have to keep a careful eye on him. Poor dear.
I'm working hard on convincing Fabulous Friend of her own fabulousness. I gave her a version of the above sales pitch and she cried out, "Wow, who is this person, I want to meet them!" Now to get her to believe it...
As for envy: Nadia, I cannot believe how middle-aged I feel as I type this, but I envy you. I loved university so much: the learning, the social life, the sense of discovering and making friends with myself. As good as my life is now - and it really is - I still feel pangs when I hear of other people doing the student thing now (Beloved did it a few years ago - hence the move from SA to London - and one of my own college friends is just now starting all over again). I even envy the homework. Really.
Of course I don't so much envy being perpetually broke. And perpetually stressed as to what I was going to *do* with my life.
At least that part's still the same.
Yay antibiotics.
Oh yes, the stress of what to do with my life. I live in constant terror. Well I can't say that I love college life just yet, there's still so much awkwardness and pressure, but it still is a pretty crazy experience. I think (or hope) that someday I'll probably learn to love it as much as you seem to. :)
Btw, SA is...?
The thing is, you don't know what to do with your life right up until you realise that it seems to be pretty much sorting itself out, and you still don't know. Then you start to relax. There's a saying - "Go as far as you can see, and then you'll be able to see further." Seems to work. You will find the fun in college soon, I promise.
SA=sunny South Africa. Grew up in Cape Town. Adjusting to London weather (and weird British people) is quite the challenge.
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