Thursday, 5 February 2015

Time...

I don't know where this week has gone.

It seems like only a minute ago it was Monday morning, and I was thinking about my week ahead, and what I was hoping to achieve.  And now, at 8.30pm on Thursday, here I am sat at my computer, now thinking 'Eh'?

The plans I had for myself this week... I was going to pack, pack and pack some of my worldly goods, ready for the move.  Instead, I have managed to fill 3 boxes from my snug, which amazingly enough still looks like nothing's changed!

I have been out to run errands for myself 2 or 3 times this week, and I have visited my friend in hospital, (who has now been released for good behaviour), several times.  But for the rest of the time, I have been sat either at my dressing table or in my snug, and yet four days have passed by.   But where have all these hours gone, all this time I can't get back?  Where did they go?

Time generally feels like it moves at a much slower rate for me, my life has slowed and quietened down, everything is done at a reduced pace.


Every morning, whilst I have been sat at my dressing table, it has felt like Ground Hog day! Each day I have looked at myself in the mirror, and asked "is it really 24 hours ago, since I sat here?".  I scrutinise my skin and my face, checking for the most minuscule changes, as though the past 24 hours would make huge differences.  But, I still do it anyway!

Am I perhaps, beginning to worry about my age showing on my face?  Am I really looking for signs of my decay?  There are enough grey hairs in my head to give the game away, the type that frequently do the Mexican wave, much to my annoyance.  But I should correct myself, because my grey hairs are in fact silver, they sparkle in the light; but then grey or silver, the little buggers are not black!  But one thing I can say, is every pale strand has the name of my ex on it!  There are no signs of crows feet or permanent laughter lines, so perhaps I should rest assured that I am not quite an antique yet.

Ironically, my mind feels like my old, 32 year old self, prior to the time I got with my ex.  It's almost as though my head, is trying to wipe the last 18 years from my memory, just so I can start again with a clean slate.  Of course it will always be part of my history, but at least there is nothing physical there, to constantly remind me of that time.

But time is a funny old thing... because we all spend too much of it looking back on what has passed, and not enough looking for what is yet to come.  How sad that is.  Sx :)