It’s beautiful here in my little village oop North.
It really is.
And I HAD to get out of my London flat because in the end I had no choice; not if I didn’t want to end up in severely dire financial straights, and I am lucky to be here and have my own home.
So why do I feel so low? I’ve had several colossal bouts of depression of late, and it’s only recently that I’ve figured it out.
Everyone is sooo nice in this area; well on the surface anyway. I’ve been to a couple of social thingys and everyone smiles ever so nicely but I do sometimes detect judgement flickering under the facade of one or two local’s fizzogs. Whereas in London, no one would bother to hide it; they would just flick shade at you Minage style, so no ambiguity there.
And that’s a positive thing? Well yes. Kinda.
I went for coffee with some ‘ladies’ a few days ago, all around my age, and it was ever so pleasant, grown up and civilised. Some were working, some semi retired, most had a kids, a penchant for gardening, the W.I. and a nice scone (Oh naughty, but nice!), and, blow me down if I didn’t feel like breaking into a ‘Bridesmaids’ style fit, if only to break the monotony.
I’m going to admit it. For some reason I miss all the London bitches, crazies, potty mouths and degenerates.
I know it sounds ungrateful and contradictory as I thought I wanted a more peaceful life Somewhere That’s Green, but I’m bored. I’m the Chairman of the Bored. 😦
I feel like a 17 year old trapped in a 50 odd year old’s body and locked in an old folks home. Get me outta here! I want fun! I want action! I want to play! ANARCHY!!! But anyone worth playing with around here is probably half my age and would die of embarrassment at the mere thought of being my partner in crime.
That’s the other thing; I thought I’d still be able to do my random, exciting part time job up here, but there’s nothing doing. Nada. And I cannot fucking bear to get a little part time job in a charity shop or something, but if I don’t get work soon, I’ll be back where I started, in trouble with a capital ‘T’.
I feel like I’ve put myself on a fast track to the grave, cos in this neck of the woods, everyone acts their age. Even the younger women are like a cross between ‘Stepford Wives’ and ‘Desperate Housewives’. Well minus all the exciting stuff. Or maybe there is something interesting beneath the pristine make up, sparkling ranges, angelic children and manicured lawns, but I ain’t spotted nowt yet.
Oh and here’s another thing; everyone’s so frigging proper here, that if I so much as say ‘Shit!’ in anyone’s presence, I feel like I have to clasp my hand over my mouth, retreat to the naughty step and beat myself into a state of contrition with a large twig. Someone said the ‘C’ word on TV the other day and it actually made me feel nostalgic. What is that about?
What the fuck have I done?
Evidently you can take the girl out of London, etc. etc., and I feel no more at home here than I felt 3 months ago.
So I can’t go back and I can’t live this way, what’s a girl/alien to do?
I don’t have a plan, I don’t know what it will take to make me happy, but things cannot continue the way they are. I will NOT stay SMALL and I WILL NOT BE DENIED the right to be as out there as I please.
Maybe it’s time to shake things up around here…
Feed me villagers! Feel me ALL NIGHT LONG. Audrey III is in town.