commencing 28th april 2025
watching too much 'you', doing too much me
some weeks stretch you out like chewing gum.
this one felt long in a way that wasn’t entirely bad, but definitely wasn’t restful. the kind of week where i felt both ends of myself - sleep-deprived and overstimulated, soothed and socially full - and didn’t quite stay in the middle long enough to settle. i guess it’s coming back. it takes time to settle into the sediment of routine again. the weird liminal bit where your body’s home but your brain hasn’t quite arrived yet. and life just keeps rolling regardless.
i watched the entire final season of you in two frantic bursts, like mainlining a fever dream. not even sure if i liked it - it just... happened to me (i did like it but i watched most of it late on thursday night and stayed up past my bedtime and then didn’t sleep because i had spooked myself). i didn’t go to bed early enough even once, which isn’t new, but feels more costly than it used to. clearly i haven’t learned anything. i get headaches! i’m cranky. a little wobbly around the edges.
and yet, good things happened too. my friend alekka came to stay and we wandered london together, walked and talked and paused and walked some more. it’s funny how restorative that can be - just moving alongside someone who knows you. i went back to pottery, and even though it had only been a week away, it felt like i was returning from a long hiatus. in one session i made six huge bowls. in the second i ruined every single thing. my hands remembered what to do, eventually. i had a long phone call with my friend pav and a long evening over sour tea at marianne’s house.
i worked the latest first timers fest, and as always, that was a tonic. something about being in a room full of nervous, excited people trying something brave for the first time just clears the air. it’s hard to be cynical when you’re watching someone discover they can do something they thought they couldn’t.
lesson of this week: the chaos and calm always coexist. sometimes not neatly or kindly. but they’re both there, pulling at you from either end. and in the middle - if you can catch your breath - is something like a life.