Sviatoslav Richter plays Scriabin Etude Op. 8 No. 11
I add this musical interlude to give a more pensive feel to my blog post. The early part of this week involved me feeling quite down. Yesterday felt like two, perhaps even three days happened at once. I went to work, as most days of work went which involved travelling, doing the shift, having a nice lunch and then making my way to the tube. This time I got an email informing me that a friend who planned a meetup last week but didn't reply until yesterday afternoon was still up for meeting. As I've mentioned that my job at Shambly Arena involves a certain amount of discretion, the rest of the day I suppose might involve some discretion as to disclose. What I am at liberty to disclose is that I got to see a whole lot of famous people, and one of my personal heroes, perhaps the personal idol of a great many people. I came upon the presence of a public figure who is comparable to say, Liz Taylor or Michael Jackson. That totally boosted my mood and everyone was in awe over this person. I had to wait with the paperazzi and many of them were professional level stalkers with their prepared autographs, cameras, phones and so forth. I decided to go home and I felt a growing state of fatigue after all the day of standing and walking taking a toll. I was almost prepared to go to the gym, but I thought I could leave it for another day.
Today my fatigue escaped mostly, I had an 'activity hangover' (I seem to add hangover as a suffix to anything these days) and these past couple of hours have involved catchup. I have been invited to an interview for another part time job, not ideal but something I guess. I've also RSVP'd to three different invitations, not to say that my social life is varied, but I have been invited to three different things. Now my sister is asking why I can't go to her mother's day thing. I need to 'make up' a reason other than saying 'I feel anxious at the awkwardness of mother's day' because our brother has some issue with our parents, and you have an issue with our dad that we aren't allowed to talk about.
I hate that my family find so easy to not talk about. I hate that my family refuses to talk about things and if I bring something up it's 'why is that relevant?' or I'm seen as antagonising . I THINK I HAVE A RIGHT TO KNOW WHY SOME THINGS IN THE FAMILY ARE SO FUCKED UP AND WHY THEY REFUSE TO TALK ABOUT IT. Then they insinuate a threat to bring up my dirty laundry, as if that would keep me quiet, I am so ashamed of that event that such a strategy works. Ad hominem.
Except for writing that last paragraph I did actually feel a bit positive today. Now I am not sure.