On the final day of my holiday I did not need a flurry of anxiety provoking dreams. From around 7 am when I was rudely awakened by the first of many to 11 am when I got up they came in waves. Sadly much of this week has been marred by such unsolicited visits from a past I thought I had banished when I gave up smoking.
The result is an anxious, edgy day that feels a little lost and an overwhelming desire to be alone. But I cannot be alone as my friend Jo is coming for dinner. Part of me wants to cancel as I usually do when not feeling right. Company is a good but undesirable distraction from the strangeness of the day.
The long holiday has brought me sleep but I do not feel too refreshed. The thought of an alarm going off to summon me back to reality is not very enticing. The hours will tick by as they always do. At 2 pm the pork will go in the oven, at 4 pm I will have tea, at 6.15 pm Jo will come then we will eat. She does have a great capacity to make me laugh so I shouldn't dread what is to come.
Apollo et Hyacinthus is this afternoon's opera. I've yet to choose some reading beyond what is left of the paper. Didn't find much in there today to lighten the hours. Let us hope my beloved cooking does the trick. I'll be back in the week.
I Heard a Voice.
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