It’s the wind that pummels the house which wakes me.
Exhausted and congested, tired and aching, my eyes hurt despite twelve hours of closure. My heart sinks and I relinquish to potential pending flu.
You see, I don’t get sick often. I hate being sick.
So I start the day with a large medley of fruit. All the fruit. In the fridge is papaya, mango, kiwi, grapefruit, passion fruit, cantelope melon, pineapple. I eat it all.
Then I indulge in candle making. I play podcasts, the Minimalists and That’s So Retrograde while preparing scent combinations for gift recipients. I light a tea light in a salt lamp to reduce the ions and improve air quality.
For a few hours I fall asleep. The wind howling and rain thundering down.
Then I wake, I grab my laptop and shop the early sales. Buying new workwear pieces from responsible brands. Then, I fall back asleep. Andrew wakes me, in an hour we’re due to catch a train in to the city. I change, and run a brush through my hair.
We leave the house, it’s blustery and blowing a gale. I pull the front door behind me and it slams shut “You’ve got the keys right?!” I ask Andrew, tired and feeling disjunct. “No.”
We pull at the door, the wind and rain beating down on us. I bang at our neighbours door. They got us out of one jam two weeks back and we’ve still got their spare set of keys. So no keys. I call the lady who pops in to see the pups in the day. “I’ll leave now” she tells us as she can hear the desperation in my voice. Four minutes later she pulls up with the spare set of keys, a true hero. I meet her wonderful toddler son and wish for a more organised time to arrange drinks with them. She’s great, affable, my kinda human.
Three minutes later we wave our goodbye and head to the station where we find a space in the carpark, get on the train. Then half an hour later we’re pulling into the city. Fifteen minutes and two tube changes and we’re at the dinner venue. Our friends, Andrews university friend and his gorgeous fiancé, recommended this spot. It’s a market hall, with gastro takeaways. I’m reminded so much of the food hall at Cape Towns Victoria and Albert Docks.
They arrive, it’s so good to see them, and chat, and drink and eat and catch up. The hours fly by. We plan travels and share stories, truly I beam with love for this pair.
Then, we leave, hugging our goodbyes before we head on the northern line and they are on the southern line. Ten minutes later we’re on our train back to the village and within an hour from goodbye we’re back in our sleepy spot in the countryside.
Andrew and I beam with happiness once home, chatting profusely. Sometimes we fall into a lull and things can become repetitive. Like those kids who met so many years ago, we are social creatures driven by positivity and laughter and adventure. When things become serious and adult with businesses and mortgages and investments and properties, it’s as though the fun can sometimes fall away in favour of anxiety. Well, F.Anxiety.