I feel like I’ve just becoming conscious after a bender. The last few days have been pretty intense. Yesterday particularly I was in a dark place. These things happen, and, given the circumstances, are perfectly understandable. It is fucking intense. Still, in the past I normally indulge for 24 hours and move on. This time it’s been longer, but infinitely more dark too.
On a basic level I faced the prospect – probability – of losing the shop. There’s different elements in that. You feel responsible for the staff. You feel a strange responsibility to the customers who so loyally return week after week. There’s sorrow that the brand you have built up looks like becoming defunct.
Topping all of that is a huge sense of personal failure.
I have fought so long, and so hard, have at different times believed that I might escape by the skin of my teeth, that to suddenly face failure shakes you.
I have fought hard, and for the most part, fought well. I had made mistakes here and there, but in general the bad was much outweighed by the good. I had managed to eke out an existence long after I might have given it away. That what makes it doubly hard, and why I felt it so deeply yesterday.
There I sat, feeling my failure, and thinking that I am failing now because I fucked up. I could cope with it, just, if I was just beaten by a superior force of numbers, but for the first time yesterday I felt as if I had acted stupidly, rashly, that I had within my grasp a kind of salvation and from hubris threw it away. That was very hard.
It was harder yesterday because I was idle. I couldn’t open the shop till late because I had no-one to work until 4pm. It was a rainy, cold day. I felt isolated, and so alone. I documented the situation with my friend, which only emphasised that sense of being utterly alone. I had nothing really to do, a situation in happier times I would have welcomed – but yesterday, burdened with my thoughts, was not one of those times.
Today is different. Different only in how I feel, not so much in the basic facts. I still face that terminal failure, but the bender is over. I am ready to act again.
I suspect the girls will return with an offer, likely their lowest yet. I think they are playing games, but it might be too late by the time they decide to be serious again.
There’s only so much I can do about that. I’ve sent messages to them which have been ignored. I’ve asked my solicitor to contact them to see if they intend to make an offer, and to hasten it if it is to be so. I’m hopeful that an official notification may get them moving. I’ve also asked Jeep, my Thai receptionist, if she would call them on my behalf.
I also contacted the one other interested party. I’d heard nothing from them all week, but this morning they responded. In the way of these things he has been in bed sick all week, and unable to speak (times like these you believe there is a god – life cannot be so randomly perverse can it?).
He remains interested it seems, and promises to call me later. He knows that time is pressing, but it’s a tall order to get things done in a week, but I have to hope for that.
Not dead yet, but the beat is pretty feeble.