My sleeping pattern is a bit bizarre at times, especially when my brain is going at three hundred miles an hour. I woke up at 1.20, discovering that Mr C was asleep in the end room. (nothing strange there- at various points of my irregular cycle, himself has commented that it's like sleeping next to a volcano.) FOF was with him- she prefers to sleep on him, as he doesn't wriggle half as much as I do.
I got myself a drink, read 700 Sundays by Billy Crystal,which is a thoughtful, affectionate memoir, but the brain wouldn't switch off. So now I'm sat up under the duvet, cloaked by suburban East Anglian suburban silence, half listening to Wolf Hall on my headphones. It's soothing and has enough depth to keep me engaged.
Just as well, really. I have gone through several periods of insomnia in the last few years, generally when I've got more in my head than I can deal with. Most of the time I'm fretting over nothing, but there is nothing like the silence of the middle night to make me feel like the last person awake.
Why am I awake? I've had a fortnight away from school, and while the break was much needed, I always find it hard to get back into the rhythm of work. I think it's going to get even harder, as I'm starting to question whether I'm in the right place at all. I've been there for six years now, but the atmosphere has changed. New boss, after somewhat of a political coup to move the previous one sideways. New boss is the same age as me, on the whole a reasonable human being and an excellent professional, but I don't feel comfortable any more. I'd love to find a job closer to home, but I'm expensive, and I don't have the emotional energy to go through the endless application forms, only to be brushed off with barely an acknowledgment. I've had more than my share of tussles to deal with in the last few years, and I'm running out of energy and enthusiasm for it all. It's not all bad, but the worst of it makes me want to scream sometimes.
Mr C has his own work issues. His company was swallowed up by yet another multinational, and most of the joy of his work has gone, too. What's holding us together is the glimmer of financial independence in eighteen months time or so. We bring home good money (compared to a lot of people), I have a secure job (for as long as I can bear it) and we have good friends. We're dreaming of selling up, moving closer to both sets of recycled teenagers, and living a quieter, calmer life. It will be worth it if we can do it.
I know it's wrong to wish your life away, but I'm impatient to move on. We have the plans - money is the only thing that is holding us back. So we keep plodding on, squirrelling funds away and living frugally.Mr C haunts RightMove.com , and we've both got a mental map of where we' d like to end up. This is what keep us going.
In the meantime, it's nearly four o'clock in the morning. The house is settling around us, with its usual creaks. There is a discernible frost on top of the cars outside. I've got a lot to do tomorrow, so hopefully I'll drift off to sleep again soon, dreaming of an older house in a seaside resort with amazing views of distant hills...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment