The Daily Blog #1
It has rained everyday this week. It would be alright, except I have to go to work and it’s a couple of miles out to the station. That walk is fine on any day in mid-summer, but punishing in November.
I break the day up into little treats.
Got out of bed?
Well done sir, have a piece of toast.
Did you walk to the station? Did you get on the train?
Excellent. Drink your coffee.
When I get to work I can have another coffee. Around eleven, I can have a biscuit.
My kid wakes up at five. In fact, I’m not certain he sleeps much beyond 2 or 3am. It’s been like this since he was born. He’s 3 now.
Daylight savings time is a real fucker though. Time is shifted forward an hour. It gets dark earlier, so he decides it’s bed time earlier. This means that I miss his bedtime story every night and then he wakes up at some god awful time in the morning and tells you it’s time to go downstairs. I always found the whole business of changing time strange. To think, a few hundred years ago, we were on a different calendar altogether. We moved over from the Julian to the Gregorian. That’s why Sir Isaac Newton has two birthdates — he was born right around the time they switched over. On the Julian calendar he’s born in 1642. Gregorian, 1643. What on earth am I talking about?
Anyway, around the time that I’m tucking into treat number one at 6am, my wife comes storming down the stairs to deposit a nappy into a scented nappy bag.
“This fucking kid!”
Good morning to you too.
It’s been three years, and we’ve only just discovered scented nappy bags. Three years of greeting guests and the first line being: I’m sorry the house smells of shit.
Actually, I’ve never apologised for that. I don’t think we’ve even had that many guests. People sort of forget about you when you become a parent. It’s nice.
My wife wonders why our relationship has changed. The answer is that when you date someone, you do your absolute best to hide the crazy.
Please, please, please, don’t find out that I collect miniature horse figurines. Oh Christ, what if we move in together? What if we get married? Where will I hide them? There’s got to be a loose floorboard somewhere, this house is falling apart.
Sidenote: I don’t collect miniature horses. Please don’t assume that.
After a while, and usually right after you get married, you get tired of keeping up the act. Those ugly little pieces of our character, the things we know or don’t know about. They come out eventually.
One day, the dirty secrets surface.
“I know, Jon.”
“I know about the horses.”
Alarms. Alarms going off. You always knew this might happen. Shit. It’s okay. Breathe, Jon. Once the divorce is finalised you can sell up, move to Bali, become an online dealer in the things.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“I found them, in the airing cupboard. How long has this been going on?”
“You found horses in the airing cupboard?”
And so it is with character. You find out the unpleasant stuff, because it’s no longer important to hide it. You’re tired. You haven’t slept. You have no idea what you’ve been doing for the last few years, but you hope there were some happy moments in there. Right now you can’t think of any.
The things that are wrong with you, you can fix those, at least you think you can. You can stand over a fire, chucking plastic horses into it and crying, you can give yourself little treats for the rest of your life (threw miniature horses away, have an ice cream) but how do you fix other people? How do you reconcile the image of the person you fell in love with, with the image of the person who is screaming and shouting everyday, the person who is visibly unhappy all the time?
You can’t (fix other people). I know, because I’ve tried. The best you can do is try to accept this new person, this new aspect, because once, a long time ago, you accepted them and they accepted you. You were both wonderful. You were both perfect for one another. Perhaps, you can be again.
Thank you, as always, for reading. The gift for me is that you found these words and they found you at some moment in time (due to the chaotic pace of modern life, it’s likely you were in a toilet stall somewhere, that’s okay, that’s just fine) and we shared a brief connection with one another. Please, always feel free to leave a comment and know that I will do my absolute best to respond