A rebel without a clue.

This is it! This is the final year. It is not the end only the conclusion of a chapter. A willingness to turn over the page without returning to the first leaf to repeat the tale over read. If I don't take my self out of the mire now I will be only sinking further and deeper into a being I did not ever dream I'd willingly be. It has been such a long wasted waiting, pondering any sudden movement which might be a bad mistake, but staying still is most definitely a greater error as I will flounder with nothing to show for anything. Something really scared me and stopped me dead in my tracks. As I look behind and up ahead, jogging on the spot, all my life drains out and that is such an incredible loss. My hair recedes, my teeth fall out, my right knee creeks, my left foot aches and tinnitus swirls between my ears, but do these body expressions matter at all while my mind is open and alert?

Does our need to communicate kill us? As we are driven to be together are we our own undoing? Are we herd animals who need to be part of the same collective? We are not Jonathan Livingston Seagull. But it kills us. But this is evolution. Now we wear a mask, take a test, have vaccinations and sit in booths;  have more tests and have trouble with facial expressions.

The same story told countless times. Every twenty four hours (including the sleeping/dreaming times) the battles between chaos and order. Lola was unsettled last night. She hopped beds around 4 and I couldn't get her back in her bed. After a broken hour and half she forced me downstairs to breakfast and toilet break. Usually, when she stays with me, 6:30 is her consistent breakfast time, followed by a quick piss and crap, before she gets back in her place, rearranges her bedding and returns to sleepy-bye-byes, but she stayed at my sister's house on Sunday night and Finley had come back from his dad's a day early: chaos and disorder exists inside that fragile home for sure. When I collected Lola yesterday morning from my sister's we had arranged for me to collect Lola at 7:30am, but when I arrived no one was awake in that household. If I had my own rented place, which was dog friendly, then she could always stay with me really - mum and Emma would miss Lola in some purel...

Day four in the Big Mother household. Already we conflicted. Late last night Lola wanted a bit of play time: she ran off with an insole and I went to battle for the retrieval and showered her with all the love I have. Within minutes mother was 'grinding' her teeth. On new years eve I had a couple of glasses of wine with my dinner, yesterday none and today I really feel will manage at least a week of Dry January, even while locked in 42 from sun up to sunset. *** Reading through the current instructions about self isolating, after a positive COVID test, I got to the final paragraph which told me explicitly to do all I can to adhere to the rules as long as they don't play havoc with my carefully balanced mental health. The pandemic has definitely put a few more spanners in the works. During the winter of 2019 I definitely felt I was heading in the right direction mentally and physically to 'get over', or to move on, from the large grey, cliff like, blockage stuck in m...