Get a grip!

Sometimes I feel I ought to write something to keep myself sane, and by that I don't mean that I'm going losing my mind, I just think that writing is therapeutic and it takes me out of myself now and then. It's not the only reason to write, of course it isn't, but therapy on some level is good for everybody and perhaps one man's meat is another man's poison, as the saying goes. I know a lot of people who either can't write or they find it really difficult to get started or what have you, and that's up to them of course, writing isn't for everyone.

And I'm sitting here now, in my living room, in the dark, the TV is on and I'm just listening to it, as if it's a radio, preferring to focus on this page in front of me. I've already had trouble getting online; or rather not getting online, just getting the computer to work. I've got a Chromebook and to get it started I simply lift the lid. Over the years, however, just lifting the lid is not enough; I have to lift it, close it, lift it, close it, until eventually the word 'Chromebook' appears and I know I've gained access. Then, of course, it's a case of what am I going to write about. In all honesty, now that I've got this far, two paragraphs in, I'm beginning to wonder whether I really want to be here at all, sitting at a table, the halogen glow of the laptop staring back at me as I wonder what I want to write about. In truth, I don't really know. Except that I do know. I need to work out why I'm simply not doing anything. I have a list of things that I have said I must do, including booking an appointment at the dentist, or rather the hygienist, but if I'm honest, I don't want to visit her, I know it's a very unpleasant experience and that alone makes me not call them. I know that once I have made the appointment I will have set in motion a process that leads to the dentist's chair and the unpleasantness of sitting their, almost upside down, with somebody in a white coat scraping and prodding and doing her level best to make me feel terrible. I know what it's like, I've been there before, and I simply can't stand the thought of having a date set for it.

The truth, of course, is that it's best if I do go, best if I do suffer, because in the long run it's good for me, if you can believe that, so eventually, logic, common sense, whatever you want to call it, will kick in and I'll then spend a fretful week or two counting down the days, trying to convince myself that it'll be alright, knowing that it will be, but nevertheless feeling not so much terrified but just horrible at the thought of what will happen. But being there, sitting in the chair, brings a different emotion along the lines of once I'm there it's really not as bad as I've been making it out to be. As I write this, I haven't picked up the phone so I'm safe, but things could change in an instant, all I have to do is pick up the phone.

So, making that appointment is one thing I've yet to do and it joins a long, long list of things, one as simple as buying shaving foam and some new razors. I tend to opt for the disposable type, I don't know why, but right now I've run out and I need to buy some. More importantly, or rather just as important, I don't have any shaving foam. Instead I'm using shower gel and it's not as good although it does the trick. So every morning when I realise that another day has dawned and I haven't bought any shaving foam (or razors) I sigh and say I'll get some today or, like now, I say I'll get some tomorrow when the stores are open. I can't go anywhere now because everything is closed, it is, after all, nearly 2100hrs and it's almost dark. 

Now, the fact that it's almost dark is because, slowly but surely, the flame of summer is flickering. It's almost mid-August and most of the big 'summer events' are behind us: Glastonbury, Wimbledon, what have you, and now we're halfway through the last real month that can be labelled a summer month. September and October are the autumn and November and December are both winter months, and I don't want that wintry cosy feeling just yet, I still want the sunshine and the sea, not the fruit cake and the tea. I've just sat around, give or take, messing around in the garden, putting weedkiller on the patio, mowing the lawn every other week and other than doing what everybody does at this time of year, like getting out on my bike without having to wear a fleece or any winter clothing, going for drives into the country at the weekend, you name it, but you know what, while I 'do the garden' I never enjoy it. Lately, alright, I've been sitting out there under the parasol in the heat of what can only be described as a great summer, reading my Eric Ambler novels. Ambler is my latest literary obsession and there's nothing better than sitting in the sunshine in the reading his pre- and post-war novels. But outside of that, I never really enjoy the garden, I'm not out there long enough for a start; in fact, that's got me thinking, I should have booked off Friday for a holiday, but I leave everything to the last minute then I don't deliver for myself. 

So, what else? Well, ever since the beginning of the year I've been aware of the need to book a summer holiday, this happens annually. It's best to book a holiday at the beginning of the year and then gradually pay for it as the months drift by rather than pay up front in one fell swoop. That's where I am right now: shall we go, where shall we go, how much will it cost us, when can we go? But nothing gets done and I still haven't booked anything. Perhaps tomorrow.

And what about that gym mat? Still haven't bought it. And what about the trim wheel in the garage? It's yet to come back into the house, which increases its risk of being fast-tracked to the municipal rubbish dump. No, it won't go there, I know that much, but I need to get the mat and quick and then I need to start the exercises as I'm growing a little paunch due to eating too many cakes and pastries. And why am I eating so many cakes and pastries? I think it's comfort eating and I really need to pull myself together, as my dad might have said if he was here, but he isn't. 

Something else I need to reinstate is my swimming membership. How did that collapse around me? It was the type of membership that bugged me. I thought I'd give myself more choice and decided to opt for a different membership, one that was a little more expensive but allowed me to visit more than just one local pool. It didn't end well. The other pools were simply not as good as my original location so I tried to reinstate my original membership, but one thing led to another and nothing happened. Eventually my memberships lapsed and now it's as if I've never been swimming. Two swims a week plus two rides on the bike was good, it worked and I felt good about it, but it is no more. My problem is a lack of consistency, I never keep things going ad infinitum, everything eventually comes to an end. That's life I guess. Other people tend not to lapse, but I do. I get bored or waylaid and suddenly whatever it is has disappeared. The only constant in my life is cycling. I've been doing that, twice a week minimum, since 2006 and I love it. That said, I do occasionally find it hard to drum up the enthusiasm to get out there or even put on my cycling shorts. It's easier during the summer months, but once the rains start, no way am I going out there as cold winds start to blow. Somehow, however, I manage it most of the time. I'm currently into a routine of a longish ride on Saturday (normally to Oxted where I find a coffee shop and sit there for half an hour reading Eric Ambler.

And whatever happened to the Levellers Firepit? Oh, do I want a Levellers Firepit! I want to sit out in my garden, before the weather dictates otherwise, with a fire going. There's something primeval about it, sitting there with a fire going, logs on the side to fuel the fire, but I simply haven't gotten round to ordering it and it's now almost mid-August. I'm starting to fret about it and many other things.

I would have an easier time walking to the office if only I had a decent rucksack, one that 'looked the part' and by that I mean a decent-looking one that isn't scruffy and unkempt. There are plenty online, but I just don't get around to buying one, I simply don't, it's another thing to add to the list. I could go on and on and about this and I'm not blaming anybody other than myself. Some years ago I remember writing on this very blog about the 'time poor' society in which we live. There just isn't enough time. The shops are closed, I can't buy a razor or shaving foam until tomorrow. I could go online now and buy a decent rucksack but I won't because it's gone 9pm (or 2100 hrs if we're going to maintain consistency) and it's not that the shops online are closed, they're always open, but because I'm tired, I'm dying for a cup of tea and I need to relax, take things easy, watch the television and then go to bed. That's my plan anyway and the problem now is I'll get on with my life, I'll go to work, come home, eat dinner, watch TV, hit the sack, wake up and repeat the whole thing day in and day out and it's what I do and I love it, but occasionally I'll remember that I haven't done this or that and I really need to sort my life out or, as my dear old dad would have said, I need to 'get a grip'. He was right, he still is, and I'll just have to get on with it and yes, get a grip!