16 August 2009


I keep trying to write a new post but I think I am too mired in quotidianity to write anything sensible. My critical faculties seem to have departed and so I cannot see anything about which to write. There is a distinct lack of significant form. Everything is a sort of mush. A greyish mush.

I'm back in urban Appalachia at the moment, trying to finish the packing. I have hurt my back, however, and have been lying on the couch with the hot water bottle all afternoon instead of getting anything done. I'm finding it very hard to keep still; there are too many anxiety provoking things to think about.

One thing that causes me great difficulty when I'm depressed is not being able to look forward to anything. I should be looking forward to grad school: it's something I have wanted and planned to do for almost five years. I don't seem to be able to muster much enthusiasm for it, nor for any other plan. This has bothered me not a little.

Then, last Sunday, I talked to my sister on the phone. She had just been to the beach, some friends of mine have just been to the beach, others have just gone camping. I have not had what I would consider a proper holiday in many years and I was shot through with discontent and envy on hearing that my sister had been out to the beach. I haven't done anything like that because I haven't been able to afford it or I couldn't get anyone to go with me or there wasn't time or I was too depressed or there was school; or, or, or.

However, I am now in a different position. I have a little money from graduation gifts, I have some time and I'm not depressed. After I get to London, I will have two weeks before term starts and I am going to take myself out to St. Ive's for a few days. I have found a B&B for L30 a night, the train ticket won't be too much if I book it in advance and it doesn't cost much to feed me. I'm going to have three days of walking and thinking and reading and looking at art and just being somewhere that isn't full of associations and sorrow where I won't have to talk to anyone if I don't want to. Three days of time entirely for myself.

This, I cannot wait to do. Of course, to do it, I will have to pack up my belongings, arrange my visa, move and so on. I am very glad to have found something to pin my thoughts on! Now if I could just get my back to stop hurting...


  1. Sounds like a good idea :-)

    I just hope you get some decent weather - this is Britain we're talking about!

  2. I'm hoping for indecent weather. I've taken against this constant sunshine-y warmth that is the American South. I will be very disappointed if it isn't grey and wet and unseasonably cold...I love walking in the rain. If I don't need a wool sweater, I don't want to be there! ;)

  3. All I can say is, you're travelling to the right country. In fact, you would be more than welcome to take some of the cloudy weather and pack it away in your suitcase for future use. There is something of a surplus here.

  4. Even so, I do remember what February is like. And I remember seeing office workers taking off as much (and sometimes more) clothing as is decently possible in Regent's Park on the rare days of sun. It has just been unremittingly hot - too hot to do anything outside - and sunny here for a month and I'm tired of it. I want to take a walk without worrying about heat stroke and sunburn.

    And I really do enjoy the cold.