Getting stuck in again

Just so you don’t think I work for the Jersey Tourist Board, it has rained every single day since I’ve been out of isolation. You should know that. It’s like living on a really big stationary boat, here. The weather just happens and there’s nothing you can do but take the sails down. Right now it’s been wet. We’ve been sailing through storms. Or the storms have been sailing through us. On the way north to you guys. Is it always wet here? I don’t remember as much, but memory is selective – particularly where the halcyon days of childhood are concerned.

I am now the proud owner of my uncle Peter’s cosy wax jacket. It doubles my volume when I’m wearing it, and it does a very good job at stopping me from soaking. “Bring waterproof clothes,” I was told while I diligently filled my suitcase with nothing useful whatsoever. I’m lucky Peter had so many clothes and left them with people who don’t just chuck them in the bin.

I am finally completely shorn. You can’t see the shining glory of my beardless face in the photograph, but you’d tell me I look young if you could. I decided I wanted to summon the summer by getting my face ready for it. I went and got it done by a Pole called Katharina. She sliced off half my face, but that always happens with this babysoft skin. Mostly it was a pleasant experience being pampered and shorn. A little bit of pain reminds us that we’re alive.

I’ve sent a letter today. My hope is that the letter brings good things. I’ve got all the numbers they want. It fucking better work. I’ll probably be more specific about what I’m doing if it does work, but right now I’m still trying not to jinx it.

Cheap hotel means guilt free restaurants a couple of times a week which are always a joy for me. I’m happy in a cardboard box so long as I get a good evening rib eye from time to time, and I love trying places to eat. I’ve been relatively restrained so far but I’m building up a decent internal culinary map of Jersey. St Aubin is definitely looking better than Gorey right now for steak, kids. I can’t help on vegetarian options.

I’m gonna renew The Mornington again tomorrow for a week. The daily sandwich helps. I’ll eat any old shit in the daytime and it’s much better than a Boots Meal Deal.

I’m happy here, and that’s despite the rain. I miss my people but we’ve been mostly cut off for a year anyway. And I miss the animals. If I had a cottage on a hill here with a big garden and an Aga… But that place is long gone. My beige room will have to do.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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