They moved me. I’m upstairs now and I even have a little balcony. No snuffly late night pitbull and weird whistly man. They’ve put me in a great big room with a vast bed upstairs.
Sure the fridge is gonna have to go off and when my neighbor wees it’s like he’s weeing on me, but this is a hotel room, and he isn’t weeing all the time. I’m happy here. I can get home and shower in a flow of running warm water and then walk around naked until bedtime and see natural light. I can even go out and look at the world from my balcony – ideally not naked.
Last night in the middle of the night I was woken with a literal jolt when I sleepily burrowed my hands under a pillow and pushed a knuckle right into the bunch of exposed live wires they had behind my head to power the lamps above the bed. Thankfully it was only a mild shock, but it was the last bite of a problematic hotel room. I found myself wondering what if that jolt had been fatal and my last blog was me complaining about the room only to die in it. I’m glad it was just a touch. I think the voltage is lower here so they give less of a fuck. This room has a headboard. No surprise electric death tonight!
One of my old teachers died recently. My French teacher and my house tutor. He took against me for some reason and contributed towards making my life a misery. I’m thinking about him though because, having not even really thought of his name until a few days ago, I found myself contemplating his behaviour towards me from my more adult perspective. I had a dialogue with his memory in my life just a few days ago, where his memory came back hard and I spoke to him. I haven’t remembered him for twenty years and more. We put to bed the perceived injustices. Then today on a WhatsApp group from the old school someone told us all that he’s karked it. I’m not sure what I believe in terms of energy, but I’m willing to suspect that his energy exploded as he left this form to find others, and the tiny bit of him that had unfinished business with me just swept past as it was reallocated and negotiated an exit peace. He was a very devout Catholic so I’m sure he believed nothing of the sort, but what he experienced in that moment might have been different from his expectations. Fare forward, Doc Holland. You were a very strange man, and in retrospect you were quite isolated and lonely.
I’ve been fixing today again. This that and the other. A spot of airport and a bunch of grabbing things and LAUNDRY. Oh the joy of it all. Slowly this event is coming together and once again I have a little me-shaped hole I can slot into seamlessly and help make it all run smoothly in my own way. I need a Bluetooth headset though just as I’m on the road for hours and can’t talk through the Wingle. It’s just too shoddy a machine. I’m having to pick up one of the championship drivers in it soon… I dread to think what they’ll make of it. Awful vast machine…
Bedtime…
AlBarclay 