by I think I’ll give my posts Romanian titles for the next little while. I’m completely exhausted, shattered, washed out, epuizat (which is just like the French word “épuisé”).
Yesterday I tried to learn some Romanian in the downstairs room but didn’t get very far. I’ve got the concentration span of a gnat at the moment. I then went to the beach via the market. Navigating my way through the market stalls was a struggle. It was an amazing day to go to Worser Bay and it wasn’t crowded but it was great to see kids and families enjoying themselves. My cousin was sailing there with her youngest boy Jack but I didn’t see them among all the other Optimists. Gosh, what a name for a boat or anything else at the moment. I swam in the sea which wasn’t too cold and read about five pages of my book, all the while with one eye on my watch. I needed to be home by five. Oh no, it’s half-way to five, two-thirds of the way to five, shit it’s ten past four and I want to get an ice cream on the way home and I’ve got to pick up some bits and pieces that my flatmate texted me to get. I had to be home by five so we could eat before going to the pub. My flatmate cooked dinner. We had chips. Just chips, about twenty of them each, although he also had some still-frozen peas. I think I might cook tonight. With the last flatmate I did virtually all the cooking, which was a bit of a pain but at least I got a good substantial meal each evening. We then went to the pub – I used to enjoy that. We watched the Chinese New Year fireworks from Frank Kitts Park – a much longer and more spectacular display than I was expecting. Eventually we got home and I tucked into the fruit cake that Mum gave me when I was down there last weekend. I was starving. I went to bed and woke up several times during the night, as I always do at the moment.
This morning I ambled very slowly down to the waterfront – I was almost totally sapped of energy – and the thought that I might never be able to live with other people again filled me with sadness. Humans are social creatures; if I can’t live with other humans, maybe I’m not fully human. It was very peaceful down there at that time of the morning. They were selling fish from a boat. I hadn’t seen that before; it made a lovely scene. Even the sign was pleasing. Then I had to amble home again.
I was totally unprepared for having a flatmate this time.
Seven more days would be a pain in the butt but I could manage. Seven weeks would be a major effort, something I’d really have to plough through. Seven months?! My god. I’ll snap long before then I’m sure.
When I was down south we were listening to the radio and Our House by Madness came on. Mum asked me if I remembered it from when I was little. I said no, although I know the song very well. That got me thinking. It’s a simple song with very little-kid-friendly lyrics and I’m sure it would have been on the radio all the time, but I was only two and a half. I can definitely remember Uptown Girl and Karma Chameleon that both came out when I was about three and a half, and that suggests a cut-off age of around three for remembering songs.
