Four nights was one night too many. Cities can be lonely places, people watching some times makes other peoples lives seem too cosy. I share an apartment with two ghosts who seem to live in the bathroom and sometimes become four. They have nothing invested in me, the girl whose room i am renting is is out of the country and hard to communicate with.
I feel myself turning away from writing, less keen to share my emotions. I felt safe at a distance but the closer I come to returning home the more i will need to withdraw.
As with all decisions in my life, i have doubts about Cornwall. Decision and doubt are bed partners for me, anxiety builds and i find myself torn. The distance and size of St Ives begin to feel scary. Ive decided to build a bug hotel in my garden, bought a rug for my front room, homing instincts. Which bits of my life will i take with me? My shoes are falling apart, buying shoes for non standard feet is always difficult. Maybe i dont want to go......
The list of jobs i have to do grows, i have no time for shoe traipsing. To feel happy about renting long term i need to provide a freezer compartment in the garden house fridge, improve storage with a divan drawer bed base, get rid of the old fridge and bed. Need to sell my kayak and a bike, clear Nicolas belongings from her bedroom, clear my conservatory for three days of new door installation, prepare the alley for a coded lock to be installed, free the front door that is sticking badly, get a haircut, appointment at apple store, lay turf so the garden is more manageable, sort journals as well as clothes i need to take, and bike, which bike do i take? That, along with the wedding, the dentist, the sixtieth, choosing a new ISA, shuffling money, trying to catch up with friends, two different guests to welcome and turnarounds to be done. The swoosh party and triathlon will have to go. Two weeks is not long. I frequently make life hard for myself. I work best under pressure, no time to think, just commit and do.
A potential long term garden house tenant has found me, i need to move the short term booking i already have for the garden house into the main house until the end of October, but her dates coincide with mine for a week. Another problem. Potentially no bed then before i even get home but i must be at home to complete the tasks. Ive found a rug i love, arranging shipping is harder, im unsure the store are ready for export and the couriers refuse to talk to private individuals. Collecting and carrying is unfeasable with three trains at the other end. The rug and the tenant take a lot of my energy.
This is the only way i can force myself to commit to big decisions. Inertia descends unless I push myself into a corner from which there is no escape. I wait for confirmation from the previously booked guest and new tenant, who will i be sharing with for a week? Will i lose the long term tenant?
