From dark to light

I wake up depressed. I don't know why. There might be a cause. Like the weather. Or the fact that after doing no work at all I am as poor as a Church mouse. And feeling as miserable as one who has been given notice of eviction to be gone before the cheese is divided out. Or I could be overwhelmed and overloaded with things to do. And worthlessly, I'm not doing any of them. The house might be a mess. The children squabbling. Breakfast not eaten. Dig gone.

Then again, the cause of this misery might be the dreams. Overnight I might have been suffocated by deep dark thoughts.

Hmm. Because grit is all about turning misery to advantage, despair to hope, doubt to absolute certainty and the clamped teeth that say I am never giving up, then here's an experiment. Like the Romantic poets. I will jot down my morning thoughts. Those ones that pop unbidden into my mind. This wonderful powerful emotional flow might deliver me to pure insight and sublime intuition.

Here they are.

Jeremy Irons looks like a corpse. Is he on drugs? I don't know what's the matter with his face but it looks awful to me.

I shall stop this blog. Perhaps I need to put a picture at the top. I will learn how to do that.

Good grief. The dishwasher worked. It actually washed the dishes. Must be about to break down.

I need to get some clothes on. Yesterday the meter man called at 8. I wasn't wearing any bra and that is not a sight for sore eyes.

Why does standing in the shower make me wonder? I wonder why I need to stand there so long?

I wish Shark's double cream topping with honey and vanilla was vegan.

If I sent the kids to school I could go to the gym. Everyday. I would be a gym tart.

No-one loves me.

I hope I don't die in a freak accident. Woman on toilet struck dead by puffin.

I wish I could play kiss-chase. I wish someone would play kiss-chase with me. I bet no-one would. Then I would feel really very miserable. Especially if I wasn't even running anywhere.

On the way to the cinema to see Wall-e, I clipped the kerb, cut up a Volvo on the roundabout and shot through some amber-to-red lights. Tiger says 'Mummy, did you have your coffee this morning?' Misery's cause. Absence of medication.

The home ed timetable is helpful. It provides discipline and structure where there would be chaos and void. Creative Monday, Languages Tuesday, Maths Wednesday, History Thursday, Science Friday, Geography Saturday, Thinking Sunday. If I sing it enough times it might come true.

Shark, Squirrel and Tiger need winter clothes. Thank you, eBay.

I probably could be killed by a puffin and everyone would laugh.

That's it. All that's needed on my journey to compose those raw outpourings into that achingly beautiful poetry that swells your heart with more than it can take, is a turn around the garden. Then let no one say that all I need is Prozac.