Finding neutral
On remembering to stop once in a while.
Today, I made the conscious decision to do nothing. Zilch. Nada. Diddly squat.
It’s been one of those “I can absolutely fit three more things in this already-full shopping bag” kind of weeks. Four vet visits with three different animals, including two for shabby old foster cat Max, who we’re trying to fix a bit. That’s him in the photo there. Max’s owner was forced to surrender him to Bristol & Wales Cat Rescue, for whom I foster; she had to move urgently to rented accommodation, and couldn’t find anywhere to accept them both. Turns out he actually has a few health issues, so might be a bit pricey for the charity to fix, but we’ll do our best on the funds we have! (Hint: please do follow the link above if you have the means and would like to help out; it would be enormously appreciated by Max, who has a new-found passion for the REALLY expensive specialist senior gastro-diet food he now has to have!)
Aside from Max, Pixie the perpetually-disappointed spaniel needed a booster jab. And my beloved feline void Ella was attacked by the neighbourhood thug cat, and needed treatment for the wound he left behind.
Add to that a car service; prepping for the band AGM (I ran slowest when the position of chairman came up a couple of years ago, and nobody now seems to want it back); the usual weekly band practice; a day in London for work; a dental appointment; and my partner’s and my weekly dance lesson; and, well, yes. I believe they call planning that kind of week optimism. I’d call it misguided at best.
Sometimes, after a week like that, you just know you’re going to need to plug in and recharge. Even though a good deal of it was positive, it was A Lot Of Stuff. So how did I get on? I was sitting here thinking how well I’d done, and how much better and less muddy my brain was feeling for it.
Then I realised. “Nothing” for me, apparently, includes: a load of washing done and out to dry; a quick vacuum round upstairs; tracking down the suspicous aroma in the lounge to a shrew that Molly had evidently brought back for a play date a couple of days ago; a quick trip to Pets at Home who, amazing people that they are, agreed to exchange a load of the food Max’s owner had said he liked, and which I bought from them last week, for a significantly smaller load of the expensive stuff he now has to like; and an equally quick trip to Lidl on the way back to grab a few essentials. You know the score: hot cross buns, Japanese rice crackers, cheese, milk, orange juice, toothpaste, their delicious dark chocolate with hazelnuts, something easy for lunch and dinner…
That said, I do feel better. Maybe it was just my brain that needed to drop into neutral for a bit. I’m beginning to feel the final instalment of my four-part mystery starting to form into words, rather than assorted fleeting images, in my head.
Watch this space. Let’s just say it doesn’t pan out well for the central antagonist.
An update on Max. He has Ongoing Issues with his health, but they don't stop him being in a permanent state of placid contentment. He'll probably stay with the charity, whether that's with me or with a long term fosterer. He still looks like something from the bottom of a charity shop bag, but he looks A LOT better than he did.
I had a more extended hiatus than I'd expected - see my next post from this - but I suspect I'm moving out of that now. I think I just needed to stay in psychological neutral for a bit, to allow External Stuff to process through and settle down. Thankfully, that's a gift gained from my C-PTSD, when it was a defence mechanism against external horribleness. As of the last few days, things are looking better, the sun's out, and it's the weekend. Normal service will be resumed shortly, no doubt.