Grabbed by the Gazoolies

“Oh there you are!”

Yep I’ve been away, away with the fairies. I posted my last rant to the world on the 24th February 2019. Then zoom…. the World grabbed me by the gazoolies and dragged me along. I didn’t go cruising, nor work myself to rack and ruin, nor get caught up in some political argument that took me away. I just let living take over.

It was just like finding out I was married all over again. You know the type of thing. You get all excited about a new relationship, you go everywhere together, explore everything together and then you get married. The trips to the local Lake and dinner on the veranda of a small pub get swopped for Saturday afternoon shopping trips looking for a new toilet seat and circuit boxes at B&Q, and dinner is whatever you can find in the freezer. I was writing to entertain myself and fell in love and then I found WordPress. The days of writing my journal and the days of free hand notes were swopped for disciplined poetry writing in the morning and stories on a Saturday. Eventually like all marriages that go stale, you break up and go your separate ways.

I read an article that said, “never turn what you love doing into your business.” I know that one. I used to love baking and I would bake cakes for anyone. I was so good at it I started to bake cakes for a local restaurant and then it became a chore. I was bound by my own success, and I hated it. I now bake for friends and family whenever I can. It’s a hobby.

I love to write and I got into it after a career in an office. It was like my escape. Eventually I was correcting the work of others. My short stories were acceptable but not exceptional. Rehashing people’s life stories kept me going for a while. When my mother became ill I found myself missing deadlines and found it harder and harder to pick up work until eventually the openings dried up. Now I write when I want to. I didn’t stop blogging I just didn’t bother writing. I am still a blogger. I haven’t had a cigarette in over five years but still consider myself a smoker. I can’t say I’m a non-smoker because I used to smoke. It may sound odd but that’s just the way I look at it. You never give up being what you are. You just stop doing what you did.

As I’ve said, life grabbed me by the gazoolies. Every day just sort of run out of time. One minute I was waking up in the dismal winter darkness, and the next I was cooking dinner in an artificially lit kitchen wondering how early I could get away with going to bed. I was in fact clinically SAD.

I’ve been on my vacation, now there’s an American word for you. It seems apt though, because I didn’t really have a holiday, just a break. I buried myself in my room at a Spa for three days. I was under the illusion that when I came home everything would be different and my life would miraculously be rainbow coloured and magical.

“What, do you not think a girl can dream!”

I’m not a writer, I’m not a poet, I’m not an artist. I’m a case worker. Taking this break has shown me, who and what I am. I am the woman that likes to help those who struggle and I am going to keep doing that until the day I can no longer argue.

I’m still going to write. I have Melissa’s Story to finish and Archie’s Story. There are still so many things I’d like to put into poetry. I will still paint and draw odd things. The picture I’ve chosen for this blog is a sketch I did on holiday. Pst. They are Geese, in case you are wondering.

No, I’m not going to be doing something I love as my career choice, I’m going to choose a career that I am passionate about and leave the things I love doing just for me.

You see I’ve had some time to sit back and take stock. I’m a busybody and as such I like to get into the nitty gritty of things. Perfect attribute for helping others out of sticky situations.

My gazoolies firmly grabbed I got dragged through Winter feeling as though the sky was alive and squeezing every last ounce of energy out of me. (I’m glad I can still say ounce, it wouldn’t sound right, squeezing the last gram of energy out of me.) I didn’t find a hero to rescue me. Like a damsel in distress I didn’t wait for a knight in rusty armour, although Mark has always been just that for me. No, not I, I went looking for an escape route, and found it in the most bizarre place. I found it inside of me. Deep down in a deep recess, of the deepest corridor of the deepest…. I think you get it. I had to think a lot of stuff to escape the gazoolie grabbing doldrum. I’m not out of the woods just yet. I haven’t written a poem in weeks, and I haven’t painted for over a month. What I have done, is got a doctor to admit they have made a mistake, proved that solicitors are not always in the right, tackled housing and benefit problems on behalf of other people and had a strange heated argument with a man who looked big enough to be the offspring of a grizzly bear and won.

“Hello, I’m back.”

Just need to start painting again and creating weird poems and I will truly be gazoolie grapping doldrum free. Watch this space.

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