SS, my first proper crush, appeared in a dream last night.
In the dream, I was travelling to Bombay and we ended up standing next to each other at the baggage belts1. We both faintly recognised each other, started talking, and then remembered fully. She didn’t like me much, for good reason, by the time we lost touch last time. So she was surprised to still be talking to me after she remembered who I was. I met her husband and her kids too. I think there were 2 or 3 kids, all nearly S’ age2. That was all there was… just a brief, friendly meeting at the airport. Yet, it was really, really nice to have met her after more than two decades3. I’ve been quite happy since :)
I tried looking her up on Google, but she doesn’t seem to have a public searchable profile. So, there’s no chance of actually reaching out to her and saying hello.
I’ve been having a decent long stretch of good days. I’ve been very productive with work, with non-work work, been running regularly, sleeping well, and been mostly happy. Today is bent on breaking the streak.
I slept over 10 hours last night. It was not a good sleep. (Don’t all bad days start with bad sleep?)
I remember having a good dream—I had two good friends I used to live with, one of their friends brought over his dogs (big scary Rottweilers) who got along fabulously with me. I must’ve woken up around this time. That may be why I remember the dream. That’s also probably why rest of the sleep was bad. I had a bad cold—the bedside kerchief is a testament to that. The head started clouding over with all the bad thoughts and worries. I had to resort to some meditation exercises to get myself back to sleep.
In the morning, I woke up before the first alarm (5:10), but was in a terrible state—nose and head full of fluid, and body feeling tired. The Brooklands parkrun plans went out the window. I switched off the alarms and went back to sleep. Finally got out of bed at 10!
A bad night was followed by a not so good morning. The loo visit was unfruitful. I skipped this morning’s Duolingo practice. Took the boys for only a short walk. Didn’t even feel like finishing the coffee that R had left for me.
Now I’ve got to go for the Saturday run but it’s warm outside and I’ve got no spirit.
“Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you’ve imagined.”
― Henry David Thoreau
I’ve come across this quote twice in the left 24 hours, in two unrelated places. First, as a chapter cover in the book I finished last night. Then, just now, at the head of a blog post by someone I barely know.
It got me thinking with the first hit. Now, with the double appearance, it seems like a message from the great void.
I decided that I like Lexi Grey more than Meredith Grey. I like Lexi. I tolerate Meredith. I hate Alex Karev.
To complete my day’s floor goal, I walked up the steps to the unused first floor a few times after dinner.
I think the boy is bored of hugging me. 20+hours a day may be too much even for him.
I missed home. I missed childhood.
I hated myself for not having any friends.
I reminisced about a day in London, when we walked about on the South Bank, having a drink at a pub, standing out by the river. Back in the happy days.
I had a dream about a girl I went with on a date many years ago. I started reading her blog again recently but the boy is about her new life. The dream was about the time we knew each other, and this common friend we met through.
I watched 8 episodes of Grey’s Anatomy.
I didn’t run. I didn’t meditate.
I finished the book. I started another one. This one’s depressing. But it has promise of a better ending. It has a dog.
It’s now been 5 days since I had any non-transactional human interaction. It’s also 5 days since my last workout. It’s 5 days since we had a day without persistent rain and grey skies. And maybe 4 days since I wasn’t terribly lonely and depressed. It’s also 4 days since I had any coffee, Coke zero, peanut butter, or milk chocolate.
I couldn’t break my frozen chapatti into half. It broke into 3. I had to eat the whole chapatti. At least it made a good pie chart.
I just learnt that there’s no spinning class on Monday, nor any yoga class on Tuesday. Easter weekend. There go my one good IRL human interaction opportunities for next week.
Tomorrow is our – me and the boy – last day by ourselves. Tomorrow evening, Dudley arrives for a fortnight’s stay with us. Then a few days later, R returns. Hope the scotch, Grey’s anatomy, and my books last till then.
a single speed, fixie for city riding, likely a charge plug,
an MTB for those times when going off the road is more alluring than staying on it,
a BMX to take to the nearby skatepark and just ride & crash,
a TT bike once I learn to swim and run properly, so I can finally get on with the triathlon plans,
and while we are at it, another road bike or two.
Now, just if someone would drop me a big bag of cash ;)