I didn't end up going to the blogmeet. Apparently no one else did either! God, Canberra rocks on. I don't know what anyone else's excuse was, but mine was/is sheer exhaustion. I didn't think I would be missed, since I'm not the centre of the Canberra blogging world. I went over to Zoe's for a while and had a whinge about how tired I am. She had a whinge back (it wasn't a competition! She wins hands-down. It was a bout of empathetic whinging) and by the time we were finished neither of us were going anywhere except bed. So apologies, anyone I let down. But if I was the type of person who enjoyed a rowdy pub outing I wouldn't be a blogger. Or at least, the type of blogger I am.
Today I dragged myself reluctantly out of bed to go to the markets. I pulled on some vaguely filthy mismatching clothes from the floordrobe and did my duty, buying a rhubarb and apple pie for brekkie amongst other delectables for the week. When I got home I read my mail over a cuppa, because I haven't had the chance to check it for a couple of days. Shock! Horror! It is AFI film judging time and I missed the grand opening! The first films screen today! I checked my watch, first one started in 20 minutes. A quick conferral with BB decided that he'd seen two of them, wasn't interested in the third really, and maybe I should just go alone and he'd mind the boy. Within 15 minutes I'd been dropped off at the War Memorial theatrette with my bike and bag, still wearing my floordrobe glory and sporting a very tufty ungroomed head of hair. I hope I didn't smell too bad. I sat away from people, just in case.
I worked out today why I like to watch romantic comedies and re-read favorite books when I'm tired and stressed. It was an epiphany, one that probably underpins our culture, and probably no mystery to anyone else, and I've probably had it before, but I have the memory of a goldfish, so indulge me for a mo.
I have a lovely smooth, shiny veneer. I'm friendly, I make jokes, I'm relatively calm and patient on a daily level. When I feel stressed or sad, I try not to crack up by papering over the little splits with well-loved comedy and words and lashings of chocolate. If I need a cry, I'll do it behind glass or in the dark (like in a car or in a movie).
But the mending paper I use has to be soft and well-worn. It has to be familiar to the touch. If it's bright and shiny and new, it doesn't stop the cracks from getting wider, and the splits open up to expose my cranky, raw and overly-emotional bits.
Last weekend I used something new to try and feel better and it broke me into bits. And since I haven't had any kind of rest since then, today's bright shiny movies have done the same thing. I'm a wreck! I just cried all the way home on the bike.
First I saw The Home Song Stories, which is a wonderfully poignant tale about growing up in 70s Australia with a self-destructive (and non-white) parent. Suicide features prominently, and the way the story is structured (in retrospect, from the POV of the child who remains) pulled me into bits.
Then came Razzle Dazzle, which I have seen, and which I thought might pull me back together, nice soft, worn paper. But then the session finished with Noise, which BB had seen and highly recommended. Oh! Have you seen it? That last scene, that ending!
Hence the crying all the way home.
This can't go on. I need to be able to talk to people without yawning or crying. So Monday is going to be a Mental Health Day. No computer, no work, no child. I plan to sleep all day, eat gooey food and watch something completely meaningless. And then hopefully I can rally and get on with my books. And website. and stuff.
I hope your weekend is restful and fun!