Scrabble fortunes seem to be improving, but I think can be put down purely to
random factors. Mark almost always wins if he is playing, but I won fairly
convincingly the other evening. However it was only thanks to managing to
place my first rack of letters comprising V, G, I, A, N, I and a blank around
an R and get 72 points for "arriving", which rather set me up for the rest of
an otherwise somewhat unspectacular game.
Last night was little irksome, with a surprise visit from a good friend, but
rather than being a social call, instead a bit of a begging mission to scrape
together the deposit for a mortgage. I felt a bit difficult about it all,
because although I almost certainly could have afforded to write him a cheque
for what he needed, I'll probably be having similar expenses of my own to worry
about before too long, so I had to politely decline.
He was understanding about it though, and as much as anything was grateful that
he felt he could even approach me in the first place and get a fair hearing.
He felt called to "go to the Body" for help, and we fruitfully discussed how
the Body has many parts, all with different specialities, not like some Borg
collective or something. Maybe he was called to see me, but maybe my chosen
role was to talk about and clarify the issues.
Work is getting me down again, feeling utterly uninspired to press forward
significantly with the Ellingham diagrams software. Reading through the
academic's proposal document again, I really cannot relate it to the treatment
of the subject area that I feel is necessary, and he's being remarkably
difficult to pin down to have a meeting to discuss this. To cap it all, time
is running out if they want anything done for this summer.
Sometimes I feel I want to leave, but it would be a lot of hassle, and I do
enjoy everything about working here apart from certain aspects of the work.
That is to say, it would be a major wrench, and a tricky one at that. So once
again, I'll just do the best I can, weather the storm, but all the while, keep
my eyes open. But sometimes it drives me so low that I have to worry about my
well-being, which is perhaps when I should be more decisive.
It would be nice if I could have someone special to go home and talk to every
evening. Sure, there's Helen, or Mark, or Alan - and perhaps others - but they
are still not people in whom I can confide with my deepest feelings and
emotions; it wouldn't be fair on them, apart from anything else. Although it
was a relief to hear what Lucy said the other day, it does once again leave a
gaping unknown void in my life that I know needs filling.
That is, it's more than just a personal thing, it's something far deeper and
harder to put into words than that. It's a matter of knowing there is someone
there for whom your problems are their problems, your joy is their joy, and so
on, for both the negative and the positive events and issues in life. Instead,
without such a person, joys are selfishly clung onto, whilst even small
problems in the meantime expand to bursting point.