MONDAY NIGHT

April started with a pinch, a punch and a hilariously hearty bang. It had been a busy few days and I finally crashed in a huddled emotional heap in my kitchen after a 6 hour stint at a promotional event on Sunday. I’m not long back from this evening’s shift and as is the case more often than not these days, supper was eventually consumed just after 11. Whenever I finish a shift, I have to drink a mug of strong decaf tea. It’s become a ritual. When I used to get home from gigs, I’d reach for a beer or some wine to help dispel the emotions and frustrations of the day. Drinking tea is akin to drinking a hug. Slugging alcohol was like ingesting a numbing kick.

I realised over the past few days I’ve got a new obsession. Food. I guess it boils down to an inherent urge for survival, an instinct to feed and nurture. My freezer is full and I’ve got a plethora of ice cream varieties in case I run out of fun. Play time is vital and I try to inject small doses of fun little and often throughout my day.

Working in the shop feels perilous at times. I have no interest whatsoever in Beer, Wine and Spirits other than the fact it’s one of the easier aisles to work. I have no problem with chocolate, biscuits or sweets, and I was ecstatic when my favourite darker than dark variety was on offer a couple of weeks ago. I bought 6 bars which will keep me going for months. I get excited when I see the highlighted special offer stickers dotted around the shelves, especially towards the end of the evening when they practically give food away.

TUESDAY MORNING

Freezers. Keep me away from them. My Raynauds isn’t improving and the artificial air in the shop and its unpredictable temperature peaks and troughs don’t help matters. Spring has more or less sprung, although it seems to have bombed today. The forecast is better for the end of the week.

My agitation yesterday morning was extreme, my knees shaking uncontrollably. As I reviewed Sunday, I remembered I’d taken no exercise other than a short stroll near the canal where I was working for free. After a proper breakfast, lunch consisted of a packet of crisps purchased on the event premises and some grapes – I ran out of time on Saturday night to prepare anything. I’d hoped for a glut of free samples from the catering suppliers at the event. Imagine my dismay when the sausage roll and pork pie I’d visualised with such vivid optimism failed to materialise and I had to content myself with 2 tiny portions of chocolate brownie washed down with cold home brewed extra strong coffee. Thrashing it out in the pool this morning felt divine. I love feeling my body supported by the water, my ankles pleasantly weighted as I bob up and down.

Things seem to be hotting up on Tinder. I hasn’t been in touch and neither have I. I’m enjoying some banter with J and a date may be on the cards. One a week. I have a litmus test for anyone I know I’d like to get involved with. If I want to cook for them within seconds of meeting them, it’s a sure sign. Does anyone else get this? I didn’t feel this with I, as entertaining as he was. I’m still a little naive and I still believe, but dating apps are intimidating. They cause so much mental and emotional interference and it’s impossible to tell what men are like from a few written words and some random photos. Why some men put photos up with their kids or their exes is beyond me, and having an idyllic beach or mountain vista as a profile pic doesn’t cut it either.

So today is my day off. Who else is free on a Tuesday? I’ve been pottering blissfully. Parts of my house are in order again and I cleaned the shower yesterday before work. I’m off duty officially until after swimfit tonight and I’m grateful to have fitness options. This afternoon is Pilates at home to iron out the creases from a morning spent more or less in bed. Not sleeping, just reading and writing. Swimfit – now there’s a blog post in itself and talk about embracing the challenge. Last week I thought I was going to pass out, my body got so deeply oxygenated from all my huffing and puffing. I managed “THEY TOLD ME THIS WOULD BE FUN” through teeth gritted from the effort of lifting a hollowed out plastic log dunked into the water and raised unceremoniously above my head. My head spins when I leave the leisure centre, my body radiant with heat. Pool bunny? Yes, that’s me.