So here I am, on Bute. Except I'm not, I'm at Yesh's place. I only got electricity and gas today because the previous tenant had left a big debt on the meter and it needed to be wiped before I could get a new meter key. Yawn. Still, it was relatively painless in the end.
Ok, I'm feeling a bit daunted. I think it'll be better once I'm properly settled in and starting to make a routine for myself, but so far it's been a bit ... up in the air. Plus I have to go back to the east coast for this interview on Monday, and to Edinburgh and Dollar for fun & frolicks next weekend. I'm really looking forward to the fun, but it isn't allowing me time to really get settled. Ach. It'll be grand.
The flat, in fact, is lovely. It's suffered a bit from being empty for a while, but a bit of a spring clean and it'll be grand. Maybe some paint. But it's light and airy and there's a wonderful view over the bay. Alas, no broadband and practically no mobile reception as yet. I'm writing this from my iPhone while Yesh cooks, and it's a bit of a tortuous process. The blogging, not the cooking.
The old digestive troubles are back, alas. It's just the stress. It'll pass as soon as I chill out.
A small blog just to stay up to date. More when cilvilisation comes to Bute.
Tuesday, 8 June 2010
Friday, 4 June 2010
Movin' On.
Well, it's been a while, eh?
Life moves on at its own pace, and I can't say I really know what's going on all the time. I'm still a bit emotionally fragile and find myself struggling at random times - but I'm moving upwards and onwards. Well, ok - I'm moving. The direction is a little ambiguous.
I've been spending a lot of time on the West coast with Yesh, and now I'm moving to Bute for 3 months. I'll be a lot closer to her, but she's not the only reason I'm going. Firstly there's the fact that, if I want to salvage a relationship with Fisher - and I do - I really don't think living with her is a good idea. Secondly, I want to think about the rest of my life and what I'm going to do with it. I run over and over things, but what I come back to every time is writing. So I'm finding a quiet spot in the world where I can concentrate on finishing a novel, and if I can't manage to get something finished then it's a good sign I never will.
Of course, sod's law strikes at the most inopportune times. Having decided to head to Bute for 3 months I received a letter from Historic Scotland regarding a job I applied for months ago. I'd figured they'd put me on the discard pile ages ago - but no. I've got an interview on the 15th June. It's for a position as a monument manager for St Vigeans up near Arbroath. It would be 4 days a week, still leaving me time to write and massage. But it's over an hour's commute from my house every day ... and then there's the fact I don't really know where things are going with Yesh. I don't fancy the idea of seeing her only at the weekends. But it's only for a year's contract, so I could probably cope. More distressing is the thought they'll want me to start before I've come back from Bute. I really, really want these 3 months. I really want to see if I can live alone, and write a book, and what's happening with Yesh.
Still - no point in panicking over what might be. I need to get the interview under my belt before I even have to worry about what to do if I actually get the job. And I don't really think I will, to be honest. It's not like I've got any experience at managing anything at all - and couple that with how ridiculously far away I live, I don't think I'm the ideal candidate. Never mind. It was nice to get an interview. Makes me feel less unemployable.
Everything's happened fast, hasn't it? Fisher and I are both moving on, physically and emotionally - and the future doesn't seem quite as terrifying. I mean ... it's pretty terrifying. Just not as terrifying as it was.
I hope anyone reading this is feeling happy and wholesome, fulfilled and with bright plans on the horizon.
Life moves on at its own pace, and I can't say I really know what's going on all the time. I'm still a bit emotionally fragile and find myself struggling at random times - but I'm moving upwards and onwards. Well, ok - I'm moving. The direction is a little ambiguous.
I've been spending a lot of time on the West coast with Yesh, and now I'm moving to Bute for 3 months. I'll be a lot closer to her, but she's not the only reason I'm going. Firstly there's the fact that, if I want to salvage a relationship with Fisher - and I do - I really don't think living with her is a good idea. Secondly, I want to think about the rest of my life and what I'm going to do with it. I run over and over things, but what I come back to every time is writing. So I'm finding a quiet spot in the world where I can concentrate on finishing a novel, and if I can't manage to get something finished then it's a good sign I never will.
Of course, sod's law strikes at the most inopportune times. Having decided to head to Bute for 3 months I received a letter from Historic Scotland regarding a job I applied for months ago. I'd figured they'd put me on the discard pile ages ago - but no. I've got an interview on the 15th June. It's for a position as a monument manager for St Vigeans up near Arbroath. It would be 4 days a week, still leaving me time to write and massage. But it's over an hour's commute from my house every day ... and then there's the fact I don't really know where things are going with Yesh. I don't fancy the idea of seeing her only at the weekends. But it's only for a year's contract, so I could probably cope. More distressing is the thought they'll want me to start before I've come back from Bute. I really, really want these 3 months. I really want to see if I can live alone, and write a book, and what's happening with Yesh.
Still - no point in panicking over what might be. I need to get the interview under my belt before I even have to worry about what to do if I actually get the job. And I don't really think I will, to be honest. It's not like I've got any experience at managing anything at all - and couple that with how ridiculously far away I live, I don't think I'm the ideal candidate. Never mind. It was nice to get an interview. Makes me feel less unemployable.
Everything's happened fast, hasn't it? Fisher and I are both moving on, physically and emotionally - and the future doesn't seem quite as terrifying. I mean ... it's pretty terrifying. Just not as terrifying as it was.
I hope anyone reading this is feeling happy and wholesome, fulfilled and with bright plans on the horizon.
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