annanotbob2's diary

annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary

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Day 140

Today I have:

Been to Friday writing group on zoom

Swam in the sea with both my kids

Had a weird, awful moment while driving home when I suddenly thought, "Fuck! I haven't been to the care home to see Sammie for ages, I'd better go there now!" I mean, I didn't articulate it all in my mind like that, it was much quicker, but that was the gist of it. I forgot she's dead and thought I could go and see her. Terrible. as if life wasn't bad enough. I didn't crash the car though.

Made hummus from scratch, including squeezing the cooked chick peas out of their skins which didn't take long and made it much more delish

Done the long yoga nidra

Watched a documentary about the making of Back to Black and cried about Amy Winehouse all over again.

The others in the writing group liked this. We could write whatever we liked, starting with, "You talking to Me?" Five minutes.

"You talking to me?"
"No." She turned away - she hadn't even spoken and now this creep was belligerently in her face. She hated queuing, hated having to manage the distancing. Two metres - he was much closer than that. She'd stepped back but he'd stepped forward, closing the gap. She could smell alcohol on his breath. Oh man, if she could smell it that meant particles had travelled from his mouth to her nose, through her mask. He wasn't wearing a mask. If he was carrying the virus he'd have passed it to her on his whiskey-laden breath. She could feel her heart pounding under her shirt, loud in her ears. Breathe, she told herself, but Jesus, deep breathing had suddenly lost its power to soothe and comfort.

The guy who leads the group at the moment might be on holiday next week so they asked me if I'd do it if he does manage to get away - he's one of us mental health gang and may or may not manage to choose and book a camp-site, find all his camping gear, pack the car, buy gas and food and petrol, then actually leave. He's not optimistic, but he's considering it. It is such a fucking relief to be hanging out with people who can't get their shit together either. Even if only on zoom. We talk a bit more in the writing group than in the art ones. I like it. I said I'd do it if I get enough notice - I can use some of the things I've done in the other groups. I really like writing a list of memories on a certain topic quickly, then choosing one to expand a bit.

Tomorrow Son and I may have lunch out. I haven't had a meal out since March. I've had two take-away curries and fish and chips twice, and everything else has been cooked from scratch at home for five months. Amazing.

Three good things today have been: laughing on the beach with Son and Daughter; eating a fig within minutes of picking it off the tree, with melted goats cheese; having an almost-nap in the heat of the afternoon

Good night. Thank you for reading xx

12:54 a.m. - 01.08.20

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