Thursday, 24 December 2009

snow is falling, all around us...

So, it's officially the festive season. Shakin' Stevens is on the radio singing 'Merry Christmas Everyone' and I am ready.

Or I was ready until a shelf fell off my kitchen wall in the middle of the night causing an almight crash. I thought it was one of the neighbours putting bottles in their recycling bin at some unearthly hour, have some consideration I thought, roused from a beautiful sleep where I was dreaming I was in Morocco with my hairdresser. I turned over and was unable to find the dream again.

A few hours later, still pre-dawn, and Sissy is chasing unvisible creatures across the bed, and fighting with the covers. She hasn't been out for days, she won't venture out in the snow, 'too bloody cold' she says in a pitiful miaow. It's made her rather hyperactive and she is hell-bent on getting me out of bed at a silly hour on christmas eve morning.

I go downstairs, sleepily, to find my kitchen is a disaster zone of broken glass, pasta, rice, herbs and spices, and cornflakes. The shelf has fallen off the wall bringing everything down with it. The floor is somewhere underneath the mess, and I sigh as I get out the dustpan and brush, picking pieces of broken cup and filling up two carrier bags with mess that needs to go in the bin.

It's still dark outside and I go out to the dustbin in the snow in my pyjamas, with a big sigh, realising that at least I wasn't burgled or some other mishap. A broken shelf is hopefully my christmas disaster (there's always one every year) and now I can get on with my day.

Now that I'm awake, Sissy has taken my place in the bed. She is curled up, snoozing, dreaming about the smoked salmon and turkey I have in the fridge.

I'm on the internet scouring youtube for depeche mode footage. There is something appealing about Dave Gahan at eight in the morning, with his tattoos, straggly hair and sweat, as he prances about the stage singing 'Everything counts in large amounts'. I realise, this is probably what I would have been doing on christmas eve twenty years ago (if the internet had existed then).

So, not that much has changed.

I have decided not to do a reflection on the year. I always do, and it never does me any good. I don't seem to change much, and I make the same mistakes over and over again anyway. So, I'm taking my therapist's advice and learning to say fuck it.

2010 is close, and I am refusing to make resolutions, goals, lists of things I want to read, buy, do, achieve. The year will be what the year will be. I'm going to take it as it comes, and try not to worry about everything.

I am ready. Bring on the disasters, the good times, the sad times, the anxiety, the friendships, the writing, the laughs, the whole mixed bag.

2 comments:

sonia said...

I like your therapists advice - it made me laugh. I refuse to made resolutions this time of year as it feels like throwing away energy into a bottomless bucket.(ie Winter trying enough without doing anything else).

green ink said...

Couldn't agree more with your last two paragraphs Annie. My therapist has similar advice to yours :P I think we all just need to go with the flow a bit more. Here's to 2010 and all that awaits! x