I hit one of those “fuck-I-hate-to-be-alone” days today. The kind of day when the sun shines and the birds sing and it could be wonderful, and nothing, nothing feels right or worth anything because there’s no-one to share it with. I hate those kind of days. And yet they come. With a certain apparently inescapable regularity.
I did manage to go out. I did get a little bit of sun. I did actually have a little chat with someone I know and who I met by chance while wandering through a market – so at least it wasn’t one of those days when I don’t actually talk to anyone at all because there isn’t anyone around. Good. And then I wandered into a bookshop…and left it with quite a bit more than I intended. Very satisfying acquisitions…even though my bank statement might disagree.
The first book that caught my interest was George Orwell’s “1984”. For years, I thought I should read this book, never did. Today was the day. Am half through it by now, and delighted with it. Definitely a satisfying read.
The next book in my hand was “Men Explain Things to Me” by Rebecca Solnit. If you’ve read this very recent post, you’ll understand why it caught my attention!!! Read part of the first essay (before I dived into 1984), and I know this too will satisfy my mind.
Then, around the next corner I saw “The Establishment. And How They Get Away With It” by Owen Jones. I’ve had this book on my ‘yes, please, buy, read’ list since I read a review a while ago that sparked my interest – and here it was, right in front of me. So it was added to the growing pile on my arm (and when the mind gets too loud in its reminders of low funds in the bank, I just tell myself I’m supporting a local, independent bookshop and feel magically cured of of such base concerns…).
Add to these three of the Penguin Little Black Classics – poetry on “passion, torment and resplendent landscapes” by Coleridge, some sensual verse by Sappho and – what else could possibly have been missing from that list – the Communist Manifesto by Marx and Engels. All of these I gathered on the way to the till (and since they’re 80p each, they barely count, right?).
And from there, I clearly had to find a place to sit and read, which I instantly proceeded to do, aided by a serving of Baba Ganoush and a dessert of Rhubarb Crème Brûlée at a cafe nearby.
Yes, not bad for such a day as this.
I’m still unhappy. But at least I found something to distract myself with. There’s no point in dwelling on what I cannot change. I guess I can live with intellectual and culinary satisfaction instead, for today.