annanotbob's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I'm still rolling along Whew. Here I am again, out the other side of the latest maelstrom. Today got very emotional - something about the kids being at Glastonbury when I'm not. I even dreamed about it: I was in a small car with a bunch of people, including Simon Cowell, squashed in the back with him - we were a couple - as we headed off to the festival in a carefree mood. As we got closer the sky darkened with heavy black clouds and a cold wind blew up. Suddenly Simon and I were stooped in a tent with Dot, trying to get the airbeds inflated, when I realised the only footwear I had was the flimsy cloth sandals I was wearing. I knew that the place was going to be calf-deep in mud for days on end, again, and that I simply didn't have the resources to remain calm without my wellies. I became engulfed in panic, but Simon stroked my arm and told me it was cool, we could go home. I can't remember now how we left, but when I woke up I did note that this hadn't been the millionaire version of Simon Cowell - we went home on the train or something similarly humble. In the dream I knew that going to the festival without preparing had been a daft idea, but I didn't have to stick with that bad decision; I felt very reassured, safe and valued. I'm not sure what to make of all this, but it was reassuring in the end, which is good enough for me I guess, though I would prefer it if I didn't dream about money-grubbing gits like Simon Cowell. I'm trying not to think about the kids. Not very successfully. I don't know how Renny will cope with everyone around him being off their heads most of the time. He'll be six months clean and dry at the end of this month. Staying steady at a festival seems a big ask, though there is an NA tent, apparently. Bob and I have been very Grateful for: A quiet house - bliss; supportive friends both here at home and here on diaryland; a postcard from my stepbrother Kirk, saying he's going to come and fetch me and drag me to his house in the south of France for a break; strawberries and raspberries; Elizabeth George's new novel Careless in Red - just fab. Proud of: calling Jane yesterday. I've found it hard to reach out and ask for help when I actually need it, but I managed it yesterday evening. She was brilliant - dropped everything, came straight round, listened, gave good advice and helped me to implement it by driving me to take the dog back. Love and stuff xxx |11:35 p.m. - 25/06/2008 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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