I was a bit panicky. I was anxious. There was no obvious reason, just a mood that took on a life of its own.
The regular reader and I agreed that I needed to simply look after myself a bit. I backed away from expectations and went on a mosey round town. I went to the new arts centre, and was underwhelmed. I need to go back another day, when I’m ready to be enthused by concrete and lack of direction.
Instead I went shopping. Isn’t my subconcious remarkably unsubtle?
Yes, people, when I needed to look after myself I bought cushions. Soft, supportive, cuddly cushions.
When I’ve been thinking of my parents a lot, I buy something with a huge red phone box on it- a cipher for their work, how much of my childhood was shaped by the family business.
I bought some boring, predictable t-shirts and the ultimate comfort garment, a cardigan.
I bought a bag. Well, of course I bought a bag. I probably didn’t even need to tell you that.
Weight Watchers crackers: I’m trying not to comfort eat like crazy.
Cheapy cups and bowls. When in doubt, buy crockery- or at least plastic outdoorsy versions.
After all that, my subconcious took me off for big coffee and lunch of a cheese and ham panini.
I looked at my plate and at my shopping, and laughed at the predictability of it all. Mind you, comfort shopping- or maybe it’s the ability to laugh at myself- works.
The anxiety is easing, for now.