In a silent, empty, filthy house
I sit, and smoke, and struggle with sadness and loss - but only for a moment.
Conor has, once more, left the building. Almost bang on an hour ago. I hugged him goodbye and watched him leave, again. I feel so much pride, and hope, and anxiety for him, not lessened but deepened for thie fact that this was just a brief holiday home after one full term already away at university. I know KNOW he is doing well, and thriving, and studying hard and keeping his head above water with the work. I also know he is struggling with his flat-mates, who he doesn't get on with, and have a better sense of his inevitable trials and troubles that he is also facing. I am, in my own way, glad he is gone again, it feels so right, but I profoundly wish he was nearer, that I could accompany him, and see where he is living, hop on a train and go visit.
And so I sit, in this silent, empty, filthy house, so, so glad that christmas has come and gone, that it happened, but it is over now, and now I can begin to restore some normality to my suroundings.
Tomorrow I will go back to the office. I don't need to physically be there until next week, but right now I long for some routine and normality back that I know I need to go in and do my work from there. For today, with the exception of one phone tutorial I have booked for later, I will focus on my home, and getting it back to rights. I'll probably not wait for tomorrow to take down the christmas decorations.
But even that must wait, First, to just try and put things somewhat back to rights. The place looks like a bomb hit it. The cleaner is comming at 5, and I have until then to get sufficient order on things so that she can get in to each room and clean. It amuses me no end that Conor's main distress at his flatmates is that they make sh!t of the flat and refuse to clean any dishes, leaving them all term spawning life forms in the sink. he seems to have got quite into cooking for himslef and others, and this offends him. And yet, to look around the hell that is my living room right now - his friends sleeping bags and pillows on the floor - well, its nothing on the disaster that is his bedroom as he abandoned it - or interestingly enough, mine. I learned many many things this christmas, about me and my life and my reactions. After living alone for a term, to have the house suddenly crowded and full of people for a couple of weeks. 'Oh, dump it in my room' I say so easily. The mess in every other room will be easily managable. I'll tidy before the cleaner comes, and then between us we will get the house the way it should be, Conors room and all. But my bedroom door will stay shut, and it will be days, or weeks, or never, before I get that back to rights.
Conor has, once more, left the building. Almost bang on an hour ago. I hugged him goodbye and watched him leave, again. I feel so much pride, and hope, and anxiety for him, not lessened but deepened for thie fact that this was just a brief holiday home after one full term already away at university. I know KNOW he is doing well, and thriving, and studying hard and keeping his head above water with the work. I also know he is struggling with his flat-mates, who he doesn't get on with, and have a better sense of his inevitable trials and troubles that he is also facing. I am, in my own way, glad he is gone again, it feels so right, but I profoundly wish he was nearer, that I could accompany him, and see where he is living, hop on a train and go visit.
And so I sit, in this silent, empty, filthy house, so, so glad that christmas has come and gone, that it happened, but it is over now, and now I can begin to restore some normality to my suroundings.
Tomorrow I will go back to the office. I don't need to physically be there until next week, but right now I long for some routine and normality back that I know I need to go in and do my work from there. For today, with the exception of one phone tutorial I have booked for later, I will focus on my home, and getting it back to rights. I'll probably not wait for tomorrow to take down the christmas decorations.
But even that must wait, First, to just try and put things somewhat back to rights. The place looks like a bomb hit it. The cleaner is comming at 5, and I have until then to get sufficient order on things so that she can get in to each room and clean. It amuses me no end that Conor's main distress at his flatmates is that they make sh!t of the flat and refuse to clean any dishes, leaving them all term spawning life forms in the sink. he seems to have got quite into cooking for himslef and others, and this offends him. And yet, to look around the hell that is my living room right now - his friends sleeping bags and pillows on the floor - well, its nothing on the disaster that is his bedroom as he abandoned it - or interestingly enough, mine. I learned many many things this christmas, about me and my life and my reactions. After living alone for a term, to have the house suddenly crowded and full of people for a couple of weeks. 'Oh, dump it in my room' I say so easily. The mess in every other room will be easily managable. I'll tidy before the cleaner comes, and then between us we will get the house the way it should be, Conors room and all. But my bedroom door will stay shut, and it will be days, or weeks, or never, before I get that back to rights.