Bah

[liadnan]

Sometimes, some places, Mondays are not so bad.

Not, however, now and here. The rain spits down with an air of half-hearted generalised misery, my mind and body are slow and complaining, the cases on my desk are lacking in interest, and even the half-million quid white elephant of a fountain out on the lawn looks depressed. Moreover I can't find a flight to New York for the dates I want below £370 (my dates are somewhat constrained as I have to be at one wedding on Easter Sunday and another the weekend after, but even broadening the dates I could fly to see what happened didn't give any better results).

The clock is tick ticking away my life, and far too much of it has already been wasted in not being somewhere hot with nothing to do save read, drink, eat, and talk to people. This is Just Wrong. Has the world not yet realised it Owes Me A Living? Why am I not rich, famous, and lusted after by hordes of women? Is there no justice? Surely I raised these questions a while ago, yet no response has been forthcoming.

On the other hand it may just be that I spent far too much of the weekend drunk, including an hour on Saturday night standing in drizzle on Caledonian Road while waiting for a nightbus at 3AM. Hardly conducive to good health and cheery spirits. It's partly as a result of this that I spent most of Sunday lying in bed watching the blossom be knocked off the tree by the rain and composing morbid haiku in the manner of a teenager going through puberty. The high point of the day was sorting my socks, until I managed to drag myself out of the flat to wander over to Rob and Steph's for dinner, along with Dan and Liz. Which did cheer me up, to be fair, and was very kind of them. It's just a shame I couldn't stay long enough to carry on being rude about the Mary Queen of Scots thing we ended up watching.

It's not a hangover. Hangover's are straightforward by comparison. Water, neurofen by the shitload, and there you are. It's an awful lassitude and emptiness, exacerbated by the frankly ridiculous -even by my standards- quantities of coffee and cigarettes I've had so far today, leaving my stomach queasy, my nerves strained, and my hands quivering like a sufferer from DTs so that I have to recheck every word I write to ensure I haven't double typed each and every letter. Oh, and there's a bloody T'Pau song running through and through my fucking head and I can't even remember which one it is.

The worst thing about being over thirty is that the question which occurred to you during your late 20s: "is this it?"; has been definitively answered. It, my friends, this is, always and forever. I may have said this before, but no one ever listens to me, least of all me. A prophet is not without honour save in his own country, &c.

Soddit. I'll have a double whisky, no ice, and none of your cooking scotch either, please.

Comments

China in your hand

[booklectica]

Surely there's only the one T'Pau song?

Re: China in your hand

[liadnan]

You're probably right.... but I can't remember how that goes, so the two can't connect if you see what I mean.

Anyway it now seems to be morphing into "They don't know about us." Which I like but why did my mental walkman go and get the Tracey Ullman version instead of Kirsty McColl's cover, hmmm?

[rainstorm.livejournal.com]

I started asking myself "is this it?" a while ago. I don't remember when. I feel a bit young to be doing that, since I'm only twenty-one. I feel a bit cheated that I couldn't just labour on under he delusion of something better for a while longer. I feel slightly let down by the concrete realisation that life doesn't really change; nothing's ever pefect. I mean, I sort of knew that before, but didn't really believe it enough. Although I think the problem is that there's always the faint hope that there might be something better. Hope's a very cruel emotion. It makes you go on when the opposite is easier.

Still, there's something satisfying about living, otherwise we wouldn't do it.

I'll stop rambling now.

[liadnan]

I suppose... sometimes it's more inertia and hope though.

The scariest moment for me was the "actually, my parents don't know better any more...." thought, on which I might write more some other time.

[oletheros.livejournal.com]

yeah, dealing with my parents as adults has been one of the worst and most rewarding experiences of my life. often in the same five minutes.

[rainstorm.livejournal.com]

Mm, I am lucky in that my parents do still know better. Not all the time, perhaps, but enough for a safety barrier. I guess that's what friends are for; when you finally have to walk alone, they can tell you when there's quicksand...

Have you tried opodo.co.uk? They search lots of airlines..

[liadnan]

Opodo even more extravagantly expensive in this case, unfortunately.

[rainstorm.livejournal.com]

That's not good. Oh well. Good luck... I get the impression that to find cheaper flights you will need it.

[greyarea.livejournal.com]

It's either "China in Your Hand" or "heart and soul" I'd wager.

[greyarea.livejournal.com]

....and to the rest of your post, I agree entirely. The realisation that "christ, this *is* it" is sufficiently terrifying that it's probably the prime motivator in our travelling plans if I'm being honest.

[fairymelusine.livejournal.com]

Is it inappropriate to say I laughed at most of this? It amuses me to read you rant about the ennui that plagues me if I stop long enough to think about it as well ... and I'm not sure what that means.

However, from my recent work on the airline front, I can recommend checking flights early and often, and on as many different fronts as possible - try orbitz and expedia and travelocity and whateverelse you Brits might have and look at 'em each day 'cause they constantly change. Even with the holiday and the impending tourist season, you can do better between London and NY than 370 quid. Totally.

Oh Marcus !!

[dr-lovely.livejournal.com]

Oh Marcus !!
dr_lovely
2004-03-15 16:31 (link)
1. You are very sweet. But I agree with fairymelusine - this is sort of funny, although I can't exactly explain why. But also I do sympathise and hope you feel better soon.
2. Tell me your Haiku. Please !!!
3. You are a very clever, handsome, young, monied (or monied to be) barrister. Millions of girls desperate (still) to get in your pants. Don't worry. Will be OK.
4. The feelings you are experiencing are not "it". "It" is much better. You are just a bit depressed. You haven't been proposed to, had your first child, won your test case, written your column in the Times, and oh I don't know, bunch of other stuff. I think you're all wrong, there is better stuff yet to come.
5. Try Kuwait Air. (And know no fear).

Re: Oh Marcus !!

[liadnan]

Re 5: London to NYC on Kuwait Air? Hmm.
Anyway, haven't given up hope yet, will continue to check around as and when I can.

[rparvaaz.livejournal.com]

The worst thing about being over thirty is that the question which occurred to you during your late 20s: "is this it?"; has been definitively answered. It, my friends, this is, always and forever.

Um, these days would seem halycon once you have a child. Then you are usually too busy hanging onto your sanity to even ask if this is it....

But the emptiness and lassitude which emerge sometime in the late 20s or early 30s don't disappear until you have decided upon a crazy idea/plan - find something which you enjoy doing, something which would take years to complete and, before you know it, the world comes alive with infinite possibilities once again, just the way it used to be in your late teens and early twenties.

[lizw.livejournal.com]

Don't give up just yet - I went through a phase of being depressive and asking "is this it?" in my late twenties and early thirties, and then eventually realised that the answer was entirely up to me.

[nikandra.livejournal.com]

at least you have an answer to the "is this it?" question. That is something.

And if you don't like it, you can always change it (but maybe after the whisky).

[liadnan]

Maybe whisky is the meaning of life?
Or not.

[nikandra.livejournal.com]

I'm not sure if it's the meaning of life, but I can imagine it goes well with it.