Dreading tomorrow

I'm dreading the morning. Lately I can't seem to do anything right, ten tasks-completed= one-not good enough. The atmosphere has really dropped too, a dark and boring cloud has descended making every day a bit harder. It's very much like living in Ground Hog day- too often it's a miserable day rather than a good one. I can't shake off these headaches, or this constant fatigue. I can't focus on the weekends and doing fun days out because Jones works every weekend now.

There's so much back handed information and two faced comments there that you dare not speak out to anybody about how you feel, risking it being twisted and repeated. I feel quite isolated now. I used to fairly enjoy my days as much as one can you know, but now it's just getting harder to find motivation, when everything seems to be a challenge with no reward, every task is endless and repetitive.

I have been thinking about my handmade craft products a lot, I keep thinking how much I really need to make this work. If I don't give it a really good go, I'll never forgive myself. I need to prove to myself either way whether it will be a success or not. If I could make just half what I earn now I'd feel like I was the most successful woman in the world. I really need to keep pushing on, I'm just finding it really difficult.

Professor Higgins

I've made a new friend over the last several months, who today I've finally found a pseudo|nym for: Professor Higgins.

Pro Higgins has become my Life-Coach, Fashion-guide, Relationship-Guru and all round- new best friend.

I find myself confessing day to day occurrences within the 'circle of trust' like they're weather reports on the BBC. My most sincerest hopes, my most frustrating problems and challenges, work-related and personal life combined, are shared out into the circle. Then Pro Higgins listens like the Shrink I always wanted and couldn't afford, and proceeds to advise like a Life-Coach/Guardian Angel put in this place in time to guide me through this point in my life.

I am at a point in my life when a lot is changing and a lot is happening with ME.
Getting Promoted at work
Leaving my childhood Home
Living full time with Mr Jones
Planning the future with Mr Jones
....To put it simply...Growing up has finally kicked in.

Pro Higgins has saved my sanity, my job and my relationship from burn out a few times because living with someone you love this much is hard, and getting used to each others good and bad habits under one roof is a challenge. Handling a position of responsibility at work is a difficult balance to maintain, and every day to day experience thrown in just messes up the mix even more.

Pro Higgins is brutally honest, exceptionally Fun, and has a wealth of knowledge about people, especially what men want and don't want, and what works and does not work in a marriage. Even raising a family. I get a whole new perspective on every situation now and I find myself absorbing this information and letting it improve me as a person- hence, Professor Higgins who based on the Pygmalion Story, improves Eliza Dolittle beyond recognition.

Whether it's the manner I regard others with, the image I put out, how to handle obstacles or face challenges, Pro Higgins is my guide now and always hand in hand with a lot of laughter I can wind down my mind from work and approach my personal life in a sweeter mood. Obviously Guardian Angels don't walk the same path as their charge forever, and at some point, time will change and I will have to move on and walk alone, and this will all be another experience to log in the Long Term memory Library. Pro Higgins will be another person who has helped shape the woman I am going to be throughout my existence.

And when I think of the people I will meet in Heaven who have helped shape and change my life - I will list Pro Higgins as one of them. Guardian Angel for the transition into Adult-Hood.

Poem 2

The tower is on lock down
and Connie cannot get in
for whatever reason they see fit
the truth is kept within
Sometime soon we'll reunite
just hold on a little while longer
Connie, my future is with you
Together our forces grow stronger

Digbeth Dining Club

Crimson lights burning long into the night
a crowded bar, and over priced
and yet here in this backstreet world
we together found ourselves.

Tucked under a canopy in the rain
Dishing out absurd, fake names
or stood beneath the baking sun
while grills spice the air
and you buy me white rum

Out of the snow, into the warmth
we've sat on leather sofas for hours on end
or crammed into a party, jazz in the air
can't find a seat, but we'll just stand there.

Business men, and tracksuits
Young and old
Sometimes my best dress,
sometimes just superman clothes.
For the entire night, or just passing by
so many memories, so many times.

Whether it's blistering heat or pouring rain
When we're not there, Fridays just aren't the same
If we could go anywhere, I'd still rather be stood
out there with you, at Digbeth Dining Club

Poem 1

I can't count the hours, for there are too many
Nor measure the distance, which is too far
I listen to the silence, that echoes around me
and sit here thinking about where you are.

Into the night I travel alone
dreaming visions I can't tell right from wrong
Searching always for a home
lost again, like when I was young

Blind

I can't seem to relax. I dreamt last night that I was attacked and blinded. Black ink spread across my eyes until I couldn't see anything, and they took my dad away. At this point I couldn't see anything, I just felt my mothers hands on my arms trying to calm me down while I was screaming for someone to find my dad. I woke up at 4am feeling sick and exhausted. I can never settle after a nightmare, and this one was particularly bad. And now I've got several nights of sleeping alone while Jones works late shifts.

The wind is too high up here on this hill, having the window open sounds like the worlds crashing down outside so I shut it again annoyed.

I'm always annoyed lately. I'm so sick of these white walls too-making me feel like I'm going crazy, colourless, lifeless, without personality.

Is it any wonder I can't write anything worthwhile?