Good morning. I am today upon waking beset by an inexplicable positivity such that I find it difficult to continue this week’s theme of giving stuff up. Perhaps for now, I may be so bold as to give up ‘giving up’. For now at least. I guess this image sums it up.
A couple of days ago I talked about how giving up football at least as a fanatical pursuit has helped me control my excesses of mood. Well my brain decided to rebel against this and supplied me with a dream which seems to be its own answer to that post. Why it doesn’t just get a WordPress account and leave a comment I don’t know.
I dreamt I was in Norwich, the only major city in England to not be serviced with access to a motorway (how’s that for a Partridgean aside?) It’s considered ‘local’ by us even in the West of East Anglia even though London is just as far away. Cambridge is technically a city of course and though its renown is a boost to our local pride it seems very little of that place’s success trickles down to the rest of the shire. Of course places like Duxford in the richest part of the county are thriving. Better transport links. A foot in the countryside for those tiring of the bustle of Cambridge. A quaint, English village in every way.
Where was I? Yes Norwich. It was the first day of the football season and I was walking amongst the supporters in their famous canary and green strip just soaking up the positivity (I am unsure without checking whether this is the case in real life, apologies to Norwich fans if this isn’t). No football took place but the atmosphere and the camaraderie were there. Perhaps this was all I really wanted from the damn game after all?
It seems my mind is trying to tell me something.
Well what is it? Speak up. You’re not normally this reluctant to talk. Great. He’s gone all quiet.
I can only assume it is some kind of sentiment that a new dawn approaches. That I again have to re-evaluate everything. To never say die. To never say never. To stop using the word never so much in a single paragraph. NEVER!
We received an impromptu visit from a friend yesterday which seemed to have lifted my spirits. She’s the kind who listens to everything (even if she forgets a lot of it, bless you Lu). Just gets us and the way we are and is also one of precious few actual real friends we’ve made this side of Cambridge in 12 years of living out East.
Suffice it to say that at times the silver bullet to slay the beast of misanthropy which often troubles this mind is a dash of quality socialising. Not the ‘let’s invite 50 people round to the house so I can spend 90 seconds talking to each of them’ kind of thing. But the deep one to one connections that are forged over time, sharing ideas, being accepting of each others differences in opinion. Being LISTENED TO. A real world thing. Not just the effortless clicking of a Like button 😉