Bull in a china shop, but am I coming out of it?

On Saturday evening I played tennis with Florin. The way I was feeling I didn’t expect to play well, but to my surprise I raced to 6-0, 4-0, with three break points in the following game. He was far from his best, but I had vast amounts of pent-up energy, and that meant I played more aggressively than usual. He improved while I hit the speed wobbles, especially on serve where I was creaking. There were worlds in which I might even have lost the second set, but I eked it out 6-3 and led 4-3 in the third when we finished.

Soon after writing my last post I met Mark by the river. He’s now a married man – again – after an eight-minute wedding in Scotland. You have to reside in England to marry there, but Scotland has so such rule, so they got married in Gretna which is just over the border. Nearby Gretna Green was where elopers from England would marry 200-odd years ago; back then if you were under 21 you couldn’t marry in England without permission from your parents, but that rule didn’t apply in Scotland. Timotion was in full swing in town – that’s basically like Round the Bays which I sometimes did in Auckland or Wellington, but without the bays; there was also a half-marathon option. I couldn’t think of anything worse than being among a crowd of people emblazoned with company logos.

After seeing Mark I got in the car and stopped in the village of Dragșina. I got out because I wanted to take a photo of a stork nesting atop a lamp-post to show somebody, but I couldn’t do that because my phone had died. Fuzzy coloured lines jumped about on the screen. I’d planned to go further but my dead phone stopped me in my tracks, so I then went home via one of the several Kauflands dotted around the city. I felt disoriented in that supermarket, which I’d never been to before. It was simply too big. Then I managed to tip the trolley over in the car park, which isn’t an easy thing to do, giving myself a great big bruise on my shin. I was like a bull in a china shop there, with no control whatsoever. Luckily I hadn’t bought eggs or anything else that might break. I drove home, relieved to make it back before doing serious damage to me or anyone else.

I had to buy a new phone, and quick. I mean, I hate phones, but they’re a necessity of modern life. In the evening I cycled to Altex in the north of the city (the shop is open until 9pm, even on a Sunday) where I got another Samsung. Whether that was wise I don’t know. It cost 825 lei (roughly NZ$300 or £140). Today I’ll get a screen protector and a better charger. I was constantly plugging and unplugging my old phone – that can’t have done it much good – and charging it at all became an increasing struggle. Dropping it didn’t help either, of course. I lost a load of recent WhatsApp messages, but nothing important, and luckily I’d only just transferred a batch of photos to my laptop.

I’ve had two recent chats with my brother. All is well there. My nephew is coming on in giant leaps now. We discussed the northern lights that had been visible down to unusually low latitudes, though neither of us actually saw them. We also talked about WhatsApp groups and how they’re sucking the life out of us all. He said most of the other students on his university course where part of groups but he steered clear, and probably benefited as a result. Yesterday I spoke to my parents who had just had the carpet fitted in their living room at a cost of $4000. Everything there has become mindblowingly expensive.

Yesterday I had my Romanian lesson. I felt frustrated that I’m not improving. If anything I might be regressing. Then I had four English lessons of varying meaningfulness. After all that I put on the lovely Ommadawn, Mike Oldfield’s album, and for the first time in a month I was able to just be, albeit for half an hour. I’m about to have another lesson, after which I’ll go into town and hopefully pay my rates – I never receive a bill for that, so I don’t know how much it will be, nor what would happen if I didn’t pay at all.

I had a strange dream last night where I was with Dad in a seedy theme park. The rides were age-restricted; I was only just inside the upper age limit. There was some sort of key that we needed to exit the park, but ours didn’t work. What do we do now? Then I woke up.


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