Yesterday was a big day, as you might have gleaned from perhaps my drunkest blog to date. In all honesty I have no idea how I managed to write at all in the state I was in. A load of people came round to my flat. Brian cooked up a storm. He made vegan-proof nibbles for everyone, along with beautiful non vegan insanity like Camembert Bread, which not only made everyone enjoy being in my flat, but also made them want to come back for more. Apart from Pickle who shat in the bath by way of dirty protest at too many unfamiliar people.
Suddenly now though there are lots of people who live near me who think of our home as a place where they get fed well. I was stressing out a little bit, so it was extremely positive to have Brian grounding me and giving his time like that. All we were doing was putting a scroll into a box. But it was important to me, and I’m glad it became such a lovely – if drunken – evening.
Meanwhile, across London, another friend of mine was doing something similar. I fell asleep at 4am. He rang me at 4.30 and I mercifully slept through it. A few hours later though he rang again. By that time I was awake again, like the rest of the world. He hadn’t slept and didn’t want to. He wanted me to come and play. That’s the problem with Mondays. They’re the actor’s weekend, as the theatres are frequently not running the show that night. He hadn’t had a day off for ages, opening a show and doing the first week. He was on a bender in company with some good friends of mine, and wanted me bending with him.
I tried to evade him, hungover as I was. “Maybe I’ll get a bus.” But he could smell my reticence like a dog smells fear. He booked me an uber. “It’ll be outside in 3 minutes. Get your clothes on.” So I did. And I ended up drinking opening night champagne on a balcony in Putney at 11am on a Monday.
Then the day was spent dancing and talking. Not the most productive 24 hours. I’m letting myself off the hook because I received gohonzon yesterday and it’s worth celebrating, but my intention in bringing that into my life is partly to derail my tendency to obliterate myself. For two days running, since that commitment, I’ve been on a campaign to smash myself out of my own body. Now I’m in bed. It’s early on a Monday night. There’s no way I feel as bad as the guys I’ve been hanging out with. I at least caught a few hours sleep.
This stinks of a last gasp. My negative tendencies having a last minute party to try and undo the positive work I’ve achieved recently. I need to find an ease within that negative positive balance. Energy requires positive and negative, balance requires yin and yang. Today was fun and I feel great, if exhausted. I worry that I’ve “wasted” a day, but was it wasted? Not really. It was great. It just wasn’t profitable. I’ve probably achieved less some days sending emails for hours. But I’m hitting myself too hard at the moment. Maybe a belated Sober October so I have the time and headspace to do the hashtaggy shit I decided I wanted to do this month, and can look at myself uncluttered.
Two days into October so far and two stream of consciousness knackered blogs. Silly Al. I’m going to sleep now. It’s not even ten.