What Does It Mean

Yesterday towards the end of the day I received a text from someone I know. The person involved is female and may hold some interest to me.

Now I don’t profess to have any experience with women or any insights whatsoever. This puts me at an extreme disadvantage.

The text asked if I’d be interested in meeting up for a chat. This was made more complicated by having to London to meet this person… It makes it a rather expensive coffee.

I once met up with this person about two years ago. We get on reasonably well and conversation is pleasant, though a bit awkward. I think the reason is that neither of us really know the pretext of our meeting. Is it friends or mutual aged, shared situation chit chat, or could it ever be something more?

I don’t know, and reading the signs for me is impossible. She is reasonably attractive to me, but as I’m such a difficult person to get on with, and with so little time to pursue outside interests I thought I’d try and do little double bubble

Today I am once again traveling up north. It just so happened that I would have a window inbetween waiting for trains in London. She text me out of the blue, asking if I’d like to meet, for the third time in about six months. I had already made my excuses on previous occasions. There were pressing other matters going on, but I also admit a fear of the unknown. This time, however, I thought there was nothing to lose.

Would she take the miniscule opportunity presented? The answer was yes.

I write now in hindsight. It was definitely a good thing, but it just feels weird. I don’t feel a huge degree of attraction, but I don’t feel negative either. However I did feel like we get on well, and who knows where something like that would lead. She is intelligent and smart, and I feel like I could enjoy her company. That seems like a good basis for some sort of relationship, doesn’t it?

I am, and always will be, Mr Analytical. It is my key strength as a person, but brings incredible weakness when it comes to people. I cannot fathom people out well, and often spend too long over analysing things that aren’t meant to be analysed, or only had meaning at the time, and don’t stand up to scrutiny.

I’m probably not built for romance… l enjoy joking about it with my colleagues in work, and they find it hilarious. But perhaps I should try and be serious for a change. What if I like it?

Who knows. I need to see past my fear first. Then see past my wallet.

Out The Other Side

I am pleased to say that after almost three weeks of non-stop work on the project I talked about two posts ago, we are coming towards the end of it.

It has been a difficult life for some time anyway, but I do now feel like we can look forward to better times…

Being on the other side of such a project is often an interesting feeling. You think that you’ve worked incredibly hard, and you’re proud of your efforts (usually) and the coming financial reward for it also makes you feel like it was worth it.

But, if you’re anything like me, with no real job security and no possible alternative, your joy is short-lived. The immediate question, the one posed by Jed Bartlett so often in The West Wing: what’s next? – springs straight into your consciousness.

I wish my brain activity towards things like this – a near-permanent state of activity – was matched in the physical realm, which is, these days, an increasingly longer and longer time spent in front of the computer screen. I didn’t think that was possible, but it is. I could now be in front of a screen for 15 hours a day, on and off. That can’t be healthy.

Something else which isn’t healthy is my diet, which I’ll probably come back to in a different post.

Emerging from this tunnel-like gloom, which was deepened by the Hair Crisis of September 2014, one immediately begins to see another tunnel. What we’re currently in is the brief glimpse of light prior to going back in again.

I write this post, freezing cold, in my home. I haven’t written a post at home for ages… mostly instead writing them in sheer repetitive strain agony on the train. This is much easier, except for the cold. Did I mention it’s cold? I’m not sure how we instantly went from summer to winter, but it was around about this time last week. There, too, we are out on the other side. I buried my head in the sand for the last month, basking in September’s warmth, with the continued t-shirt wearage. It came to a crashing halt last week, and it’s not coming back.

But I must resist the lure of the central heating. The energy companies, too, want me on the other side, but it is too soon. Last year I survived until November before first use. I must do the same this year. It costs too much to heat such a small space. The difference for them is that we are currently out in the sunny outdoors, but know we are hurtling straight long into a six month long tunnel of frigid gloom. Are we allowed to use that word any more in that context?

Who knows. Who cares. Language is fun.

Alas, it is early morning on a Sunday, and I’m wide awake. I also have to go into work in a few hours so that we can stay on top of things. Rubbish.

I don’t care much for what I’ve found on the other side after all.

Still, only 73 days until Christmas