It’s nearing the end of what has been a surprisingly agreeable. It’s not often lately I’ve got to write that. Not that it was special or anything. It wasn’t great, but it was ok, like I said, agreeable, which is to say, it wasn’t disagreeable.
One of the good things about it is I felt productively busy. I’m not going to go into the detail, probably because not having written all week I can hardly be bothered typing this. I’ll stick to bullet-points:
- Started a course online to augment the possible consulting gig.
- Had a consulting gig yesterday meeting with a client and falling into the right step as if I’d never been away from it. Was reassuring, though I’d prefer it to be profitable.
- Had an opportunity fall into my lap selling a bunch od entertainment card decks. Half of the take is mine if i manage to sell any – and I’ve got 15,000 I’m planning to sell for $4 each. Challenging, but the wheels are turning.
- Had me a free massage.
- Caught up with a friend for a couple of bottle’s of wine one night.
- Visited the city wearing my suit. Had dinner with the Cheese’s, and more wine.
- Walked Rigby everyday for about 45 minutes at a time. The weather was excellent and the exercise necessary.
- Spent an hour or two every day at the library just getting away from things. Surprisingly tranquil. Worked a bit, read a bit.
Had a few other moments that at other times would have had me cringing. These are not other times, and I’m now largely inured to episodes I’d have found humiliating. I’m not sure what that says about me, or if it’s a good thing or bad.
It’s no secret I’m short of the ready. On Monday I had an appointment with my financial counsellor to discuss options. I happened to mention to her that I was short of cash and might struggle to put food on the table over the next fortnight. I was light with it, almost cavalier – I’ve grown accustomed to scraping along also, and besides it might not be a bad thing if I went light on the fang over the next little bit. An idle couple of months has not been good for me. Like most normal people however she was alarmed. Why don’t you have a word to so-and-so she said, get a food parcel.
Now there’s something I never expected to do. H, who has been to so many fine restaurants over the course of an indulgent lifetime, who has rarely stinted on the fine stuff and who can whip up a royal feast at home, incongruously receiving a food parcel. All this went through my head as I assessed my response. As much as anything I was curious. It was so novel as to be somehow fascinating. I tried to imagine myself actually accepting a parcel of food, and ultimately it was that sense of curiosity that had me nod my head, ok.
I walked out eventually with a small bag of food, as well as some supermarket vouchers and a couple of freshly baked fruit buns. I was told that if I come by certain days they put lunch on, but that was too much for me. I’m down on my luck perhaps, but I’m still able and relatively bright. I’m not there yet and never will be, touch wood. Still, I appreciate the gestures of these fine people, all volunteers, and felt myself unworthy of it even as they thrust things upon me – do you need furniture? Some clothes vouchers?
That’s where my life has arrived, and once upon a time I’d have been so high and mighty I could never have considered that. Not any more, and perhaps that is a good thing. Life’s strange, and no point denying it. This is mine, where I’m at, straitened just now, accepting gifts of food one day with gratitude and the next day dressed splendidly in suit like a master of the world. Perverse and weird it all is, a roll of the dice that comes up a different result every time. This is it, but here I am, as buoyant as I’ve been for a long time.