I’m supposed to be in the middle of a two day committee meeting. Instead I am lying on a towel looking at this:
rejoicing at the slight breeze and listening to the birdsong and the buzzing of a million insects.
Yesterday I looked up at the sky through the branches for the first time in too long. As I lay there, I couldn’t actually remember the last time I’d done that. It’s amazing how seldom I lie on my back outside.
The day before that I lay beside a lake and looked at the reeds and listened to the frogs:
I have been neglecting myself recently, or at least not paying attention properly.
I’ve been working long hours during the day and watching the stars at night and not sleeping enough in between. I’ve been talking too much and not listening to my body enough. I’ve been eating beans and pancakes and müsli and chocolate and not nearly enough fruit and veg. I’ve been cycling and rowing (on the machine) but not stretching or actively relaxing. I’ve been trying to get things done, but not standing back to see which things are actually important. I’ve been spending a lot of time dithering and rushing about (mostly in circles) inside and not so much just existing outside.
All this is probably why I was the perfect victim for a passing virus. And also why I found myself spending the last few days in an exhausted heap observing the greenery and assorted wildlife.
As they say,
“If you won’t take time to be healthy, you’ll have to make time to be ill”
There’s a lot of truth in that.
On the other hand, even though being ill is no fun, there’s a lot to be said for lying on the ground under a tree, just recuperating. I might have to come here more often, even when I’m well again. Also, having a sore throat is the perfect excuse to up my icecream consumption :p.
I was invited to a party on Saturday. I had to turn it down because I wouldn’t be back from the committee meeting in time. That meant I was free to go to my AuPair kid’s birthday on Sunday, seeing as I was in Southern Germany anyway (and once I found out that I wouldn’t make it back for the party). Now, I’m not going anywhere. Hmph.
Not travelling means not needing train tickets. I was so chuffed about booking them in advance (and thereby saving money) but it seems that even if I am organised it doesn’t work out.. Very miffed about that – I thought I was doing so well! Luckily the train company refunds tickets up to the day they’re valid so I only “lost” the cancellation fee.
The next bit’s boring, mostly just for my memory in case I need to be reminded later.
I was tired and unmotivated for most of the weekend. Things that should have taken a few minutes took several hours. I started things and left them on the floor. I couldn’t decide what I wanted to buy when I went shopping and spent ages dithering between this one and that one, walking back to the shelves and putting things back, only to turn round when I reached the end of the isle and pick it up again, having changed my mind (this is a semi-normal thing when I go shopping, I’m just not usually quite as dithery as this weekend).
I had a dry throat and unquenchable thirst, along with a headache for most of Monday and Tuesday. Drinking 3L of water in less than 6 hours is possibly a little excessive, but it’s been 30+ degrees C in Berlin for a while, and 34+ in the workshop, so I assumed it was due to a combination of heat, dehydration and potentially a slight lack of salt.
Then I dropped my bike while getting off it at the crossroads on the way to work on Tuesday. Who’s that weak?! I put that, too, down to the heat and made a point of drinking even more, this time alternating water with squash, briefly thinking about adding some kind of strength training into my already largely unsuccessful mornings.
Swallowing started to hurt (rather than scratch) about mid afternoon. I waited until no one else was using the loos at work and looked at the back of my throat in the mirror (my mirror at home is waiting for me to finish its new frame). My tonsils were swollen and had white patches. Ewww.
That night I tossed and turned, froze, boiled, fought with the duvet, staggered back and forth to the bathroom and was generally not particularly rested when the alarm went off in the morning. I fought my way out of bed and towards the end of the road. I wanted to stop at the doctor’s before work and ask what to do about of the white splotches.
Turns out working isn’t good for healing. It’s also not good for other people if you work while you’re contagious.. Who knew. 😉
She stole some blood and wrote me off work for 3(+x) days and told me to get lots of rest and to avoid other people and talking. (She also recommended medicinal throat sweets, but they made my mouth hurt, so I gave up after the 4th).
The chemist suggested vitamin C crystals with added Zink. Taking that as she recommended.
Slept well and often for most of the rest of the day.
This morning it was warm and sunny and I cycled to work in a T-shirt and skirt. Yesterday and most of last week that was no problem. Today however…
When I looked out of the window at 5 this evening it was raining. The weather forecast I should ideally have looked at earlier said it wasn’t due to stop raining until tomorrow. I didn’t fancy sleeping at work so I packed my bag and cycled home straight away – in the hope that it meant I only had to face it being cold, wet and windy instead of cold, wet, windy and dark.
By the time I’d finished packing my bag it was not only raining but chucking it down. I was soaked well before I reached home.
Look! A dry bit! 🙂
This post was going to be a rant about the weather. I started writing it in my head on the way home. Then this evening happened and I no longer feel like ranting. I am actually kind of thankful for the rain, in a roundabout fashion..
The first thing I did after getting home and taking my helmet off was put the kettle on. The second thing was start running a bath.
I love baths, especially long baths but I don’t know when I last had one. ¾ of an hour cycling in a downpour without a coat seemed to be the perfect excuse.
Isn’t that ridiculous? That I feel like I need an excuse to spend [excessive] time in the bath. It’s like I have some kind of voice in my head permanently telling me that I should be doing something, should be productive, should have something to show for all the oxygen I’ve been using. I’m not sure what I’m trying to prove, or to whom, but I am aware that the more I try to prove it, the more I actually prove how incapable I am of proving it.
Productivity is all well and good, but I can’t be productive all the time, especially when my batteries are flat.
Sometimes batteries need recharging.
Sometimes a long bath is the best way to do that.
Today two very luffly friends (who barely know each other and are therefore almost definitely acting independently of each other) wrote to me to find out how I’m getting on and scheduled a phone call for tonight and next week respectively.
I’ve been spinning on my own axis in my own world for a while. Monday, for example, was one of those days where you I wonder what, if anything, you’re I’m capable of doing well and why you I even bother trying to deal with all the chaos when all you’re I’m doing is taking up space and messing up other people’s otherwise orderly lives. Reaching out (in person or by phone) and talking to people who love me was well overdue and I am so grateful for these people who seemingly instinctively know this and help me with it.
F and I had made our telephone plan before it started raining so I decided to combine the plans and phone her while soaking in the bath instead of while sweeping the floor and putting washing on.
Her phone didn’t work directly so I read my email while I was waiting for her to sort it out. I still get Flylady mails (remember her?) which I don’t often open but which I read today. I even poked the link and arrived at her podcast/vlog about how she makes her bed. Couldn’t bring myself to watch all the way to the end, there’s only so much bedmaking I can cope with, but since I was on YouTube anyway I jumped about through the recommendations until I came to a TEDx talk by a lady called Tracy McMillan.
That is one cool lady.
I’d never read her articles or books or watched her TV shows. Never even heard of her before. Might be a tiny bit obsessed now though ;p.
As soon as her talk was over I googled her and found an interview between her and Lewis Howes (F’s phone didn’t properly recover so we spoke for a few minutes and agreed to postpone the call to tomorrow).
I think that’s the first YouTube link I’ve ever posted here. I am so awestruck by this woman’s positivity in the face of everything that she’s lived through, I think you should all go and watch the interview. Or the TED talk. Or possibly all the videos, except I haven’t seen them all and can’t directly recommend them.
She mostly talks about loving oneself. Flylady is always talking about flying. For all of you who don’t know her and weren’t around when I signed up for her emails, FLY is an acronym for finally loving yourself… I find the full-circle-ness fascinating.
I was planning to do a million things this evening. I wanted to get my tax return finished and tidy the sitting room and do the washing up and put some unwanted things up for sale online. I wanted to find some photos to print and go through my computer and find the documents I need to work on over the next few days. I wanted to achieve so many things. In the end I didn’t do any of those things (although I did get a load of washing done, change my bedsheets and cook and eat dinner), but I think spending the time with a cup of hot ribena and a bath and Tracy McMillan’s voice turned out to be the best thing to do with the evening.
I wouldn’t have done that if it hadn’t been for having to cycle in the rain.
For that I am thankful. That’s why this was going to be a rant, but isn’t.
It’s been really cold lately and it was still around freezing when I left the house, late.
The wheel was stiff when I tried wheeling it away from the bike stand and towards the road. It felt like the brakes were jammed on tight, but they weren’t. After a bit of gentle persuasion and a few angry words it unstuck itself and off I went.
I assumed (see, there’s that bad word again, almost as bad as “planning”) there must have been ice in the works somewhere – it did get thoroughly soaked last week and it was icy this morning (never thought I’d have to scratch ice off the saddle, but I did).
I left work while it was still light to cycle to my maths/English/German student. As it turned dusky and got darker and darker I realised I was riding without lights. Argh. As a car driver, I can’t stand cyclists without lights.. as a cyclist, I try to be car friendly, in the hopes that they won’t run me over. Also, as I found out on Wednesday, lights are useful.
After we’d talked about adjectival attributes (?!) for as long as we could concentrate, I borrowed a front bike light from my maths kid’s mum and headed home.
Except I couldn’t. The front wheel was stuck again. It took me several metres of pushing and kicking and cajoling before anything happened. When it finally did start rolling, the nut holding the front wheel onto the forks starting turning too..
I stopped and did it up as best I could with gloves on. Another couple of paces and it was loose again.
At some point I noticed that the cables from the dynamo were hanging in the breeze and the box they’re supposed to join into was riding round in circles, presumably enjoying unknown freedom.
I prodded it a bit, retightened the nut and rode home, very very carefully.
I cycled to work this morning. It rained half the way there. The first half. Only the first half I suppose. I wasn’t expecting it to stop but it did.
After work, I had a plan to get a couple of trains to a distant part of town to try on a ski-helmet and pick up a pair of skis. After that I was going to get a train back and go and pick up the mattress.
I originally planned to leave my bike at work and swap it for the skis and possibly the helmet before cycling home. When I looked at the map and the local transport app at lunchtime, I discovered that I wouldn’t be home in time for the mattress if I relied on the buses to take me from A to B and B to C. I decided to take my bike and cycle from the station to the helmet, then to the skis and push the bike to the next station where a direct train would bring me to within 10 minutes of my flat.
Did anyone else notice the parts where I said plan and claimed it as my own?
Did all the alarm bells start ringing?
Did you feel the words “uh-oh” forming, ready to be released at a moment’s notice?
Did you see the chaos building up in the distance like the storm currently waiting to attack Berlin?
No? I didn’t either. I ran straight into it headlong.
I didn’t expect anything. But it expected me. I must be good company, or at least a regular visitor…
We had a fire alarm at work after lunch and before I could write my plan down.
Afterwards, I tried to get my work done so I could leave on time.
I almost did, too.
It wasn’t raining when I left my workshop so I packed my waterproof overskirt away in my panier.
It started raining just as I got outside the building. I don’t like being wet if it’s a cold kind of wet, and I especially dislike cycling in wet jeans, so I stopped and unpacked it.
I wasn’t expecting to spend time getting dressed once I’d left.
I didn’t expect the lift to be full when I got to the station so that I needed to wait for it to come up a second time.
I didn’t expect to miss the first train on my list of 3.
I didn’t expect the lifts at the second station to only go up when the train I needed to catch was a floor lower than the one I started on.
I didn’t expect the second lift, a lift I crossed a road especially to reach, to bring me back to the middle floor.
I didn’t remember my bike being so heavy when I decided to carry it down and up the next stairs I encountered.
I wasn’t aware that one station name in Berlin can actually mean 3 separate stations for the 3 types of train, and that they can be several hundred metres away from each other.
I didn’t appreciate having to visit each one of them to realise it.
I didn’t remember that the third train I wanted to catch only left once an hour.
I really didn’t like having to retrace my steps to get an alternative train from a station I’d already fought my way out of.
I didn’t check the map closely enough to know that the street I was looking for, started with one name and ended with a different one.
I didn’t realise that I cycled right past it without noticing.
I wasn’t paying enough attention as I started enjoying cycling along a straight cycle path without rain.
I wasn’t ready for the dark when the street lights stopped.
I wasn’t expecting my bike’s front light to be weaker than the wind-up torch I took on a night walk in 6th form.
I didn’t want to stop on the side of a busy but dark road with nothing but the dim glow of a fading dynamo to show where I was in order to check the map again.
I trusted Google when it recommended an alternative route from my current position when I finally felt safe enough to check.
I didn’t know, when I set out down the “dead end – pedestrian access only” road, that it would lead me into the middle of a very muddy field.
I didn’t know you could switch between the directions mode and the map mode without retyping the street name.
I didn’t know, once I was in a particularly boggy patch of field, whether it would be quicker to turn round and go back, or to carry on squelching.
I couldn’t imagine that I could be so scared of things that go bump (or knatterknatterknatter) in the dark.
I wasn’t expecting the torch on my phone to be so good.
I didn’t know in advance that I would rather cycle unnecessarily far by road, just to avoid a couple of hundred metres along a dark path through a woods
I didn’t know, when I set out from work, that I would arrive at the helmet man’s house later with the bicycle than I would have done without it.
I didn’t know, from the picture and the description, that the helmet would be just a smidgen too small.
I also didn’t know from the brief phone calls we’d had, that the seller would be so gracious about letting me traipse mud all through his immaculate house. “Relax! It’s all tiled and washable – it gets muddy every time I come in from working in the garden :)”
I didn’t know it would take me more than twice the time Google suggested to cycle across to the ski lady’s house.
I didn’t know that the skis would be so sharp that they’d take the paint off my handlebars when I rested them there.
I didn’t know that I would have such a problem steering when I got the skis into a stable position.
I couldn’t guess that the wind would pick up and join the pouring rain to slow down my attempts to get to the station while pushing my bike and balancing a pair of skis.
I didn’t expect to have to ask someone how to get into the train station.
I didn’t count on missing the last direct train of the evening and having to take three other indirect trains instead.
I didn’t think my phone battery would go down so fast, but I also didn’t think the last few percent would last all the way home.
I wasn’t expecting anyone to talk to me on the train, and when they did, I wasn’t expecting them to say, “don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve got a wife and a kid waiting for me” as we got out at the same station.
I didn’t expect to get home more than 7 hours and 22km after leaving work, 3 hours later than I wanted to pick up the mattress.
Despite everything, I still feel it was a successful day..
One on which I feel I definitely earned my sleep.
Talking of sleep…I wasn’t planning on sleeping on the floor again tonight, but then, life always seems to have more in store for me than I could ever imagine.
(And I wasn’t expecting the neighbour to phone and apologize, but he did – assuming the mattress man is understanding enough not to sell the mattress to someone else tomorrow, we’re all set to pick it up in the evening 🙂 – wheee!)
Okay, so it was nothing like a Roxette song, but it was an adventure. There’s not much more freeing than packing your stuff into the back of your own car and driving into the sunset. And there’s not much more grown up than realising when you are really really tired and should stop to sleep instead of charging on towards a goal regardless of all danger..
Lorries, even sleeping lorries, are loud. Lorries full of animals are cruel at the best of times, but are especially cruel when they have to travel so far that there are overnight stops. Those animals are [understandably] even louder than the refrigerator lorries.
The rain, when it falls, is loud. The choice between fresh air and a wet car is difficult to make while half asleep.
The seats are only so long. I’m a fairly short person and my car is fairly big, but my feet spent a lot of the night trying to find something to rest on/against.
The sun comes up on its own terms. There are no curtains in a car. You can’t choose when to turn the lights on. You get what the weather fairy gives you.
There are many things which could be considered suboptimal.
But. None of them cancels out the sense of adventure and the feeling of being alive. In fact they add to it.
While it wasn’t nearly as cool as hitchhiking round Ireland with one’s miniature fridge, I’d argue that driving accross Berlin during rush hour with a nearly-full-sized fridge on the folded down back seats of your car is slightly more nerve wracking, especially if it’s dark, drizzling, and the rear windscreen wiper doesn’t clean the top third of the window and the fridge covers the bottom half. Even more especially if you usually park under a lime tree and the entire car, but most notably the mirrors and windows, are slightly sticky, dusted in yellow grit and decorated with bird poo.
The fridge, the car and I all made it back in our respective one pieces* and that was the end of another educational day.
*as in, ‘got back in one piece’, except there were three of us. Not to be confused with onesies. There is no way I am going to dress either my car or my fridge in a onesie. The chances of me wearing one myself aren’t much greater.
I am on the road again. Or more rather on the tracks. Since I’m travelling almost entirely by train.
It’s a 7 1/2 hour journey from where I live to where I have to be at 7pm.
Instead of leaving at midday and making a usual late appearance, I chose an early train so that I arrived at about half past 2 and had time to admire the town. I’ve been here before but didn’t get to see much of the 16th century architecture and pokey cobbled alleyways.
There’s also quite a lot of a castle left – although it’s not quite IN the town itself, it’s still not too far to walk.
That was my plan.
It was raining lightly when I got off the train. Grey and damp is always the best way to see a town…. *sigh*.
After wobbling along the line between what I wanted to eat and what I’d given up for lent at the ‘proper’ bakery next to the station, I wandered towards the hotel via a church closed for repairs and a graveyard with a mixture of war memorials and more recent memories, my pink umbrella standing out from all the grey like the red-jumpered man in a Constance painting.
When I got there the hotel foyer was deserted, except for a landline phone (with a curly cable :)) next to a small sign with a phone number on. Once I’d convinced myself that there really wasn’t anyone around, I phoned the number and let it ring a couple of times before hanging up.
The hotel man, who appeared a couple of seconds later, seemed a bit miffed that I’d hung up on him, but he still handed me the key for my room, which was all I wanted anyway 🙂
I dumped my bag, went to the loo, sat on the bed and promptly decided to take off my coat, shoes and glasses. Big beds can only mean one thing – sleep!
Fast forward a good couple of hours (can almost 3 still be a couple??) DB phoned to get my help setting up a new computer. (That’s a bit like me phoning him up and expecting him to talk me through changing the oil in a new car, one neither of us has ever seen before…).
And now it’s time to go to the restaurant for an evening-before-the-real-meeting meeting.
Next time I’ll have to plan to get here a day in advance!
The canteen at work is designed for people to go in, sit down, eat and leave again. It’s not designed for everyone to sit around talking once they’ve finished eating.
Today it rained. Very very hard. It started raining at midday, just after I’d got to a table and sat down. The people who had been about to leave, and the people who’d been eating when I arrived and had now finished, stayed put – waiting for the rain to stop. My ‘generation’ of diners also stayed put. The new arrivals had nowhere to sit and wandered about forlornly looking for an empty table..
Something like looking for a parking space in a carpark next to a concert.