The Last Hurrah

One of the main reasons I decided to move back home was because I was suffering major flatmate burnout. Gus and I had a huge row one weekend, one that we will no doubt laugh hysterically about in the not too distant future, and I decided it wasn't such a good idea us living together. Of course people said "told ya so" but I have a tendency not to heed the advice of others. So after all that debating about what to do with the bonus I received from work I ended up using it to live a solitary, carefree month by myself. It was awesome but at the back of my mind I still had the niggling worry about who the next flatmate was. I then had a flurry of interest in the room and every single person was unsuitable. So I thought, as I often do in these situations; What Would Jesus Do? He'd go back and live with Mary and Joesph, or in my case, Mary and Bert.

I gave in my month's notice on the flat and then I really enjoyed my time alone. Well, for about 3 weeks, and then I felt that I had O.D'd a little watching the Bad Girls Club and I was, in fact, wanting to revert back to 'bad girl' tendencies and get drunk on Tequila and suchlike, and so on and so forth. I was tired of my own company. Ready to live communally again. As it happens, Nellybert's social life is far more prolific than my own and there's always a hive of activity but the option of solitude if needed.

But, alas, after 3 weeks I got a week off work and then I created my own hive of activity. Dirt Bird joined Nelly, the dogs, and I in Fanad and we had a wonderful time chilling, chatting and childhooding, which is a made-up word to make this sentence sound more punchy but basically means getting in touch with our inner child. We saw a Lookout Cow which we saluted and we mostly ate, cheese, bread and foosted fruit.

Thursday was my last night in the flat and the bad girl within me could not be contained. Jakers had been round picking some stuff up from me and I tempted him to join Ziggy and I for a drink at the pub. As always, everyone remembered Ziggy but wasn't quite sure who I was. It's always the nights you least expect it that turn out the best. We played guitar and chatted until the early hours of the morning and then it was Moving Day which went by smoothly enough considering my fragile state of being. The Super Duper Lovely Mels came to hang out and her mum took us to Mount Stewart the next day. Ziggy tried to take on a hissing swan with young cygnets. This would be Ziggy the dog who goes to pubs, listens to BBC Radio 4 and, quite frankly, should know better.

So that's what I've been at. Now here's a photo of a lily I was particularly endeared by :)

Unexplained Bleeding From The Ears

One thing's for sure and that is I've been sleeping better at night. I'm guessing because I've eliminated a large amount of stress out of my life. That said, I did wake up out of my sleep last night and needed to go to the toilet. I switched the lights on in my bedroom and hallway to see where I was going but, for some reason, I was spooked. I've lived on my own before and I'm just not that easily scared in anymore. I'm so uneasily scared that when something does startle me and my heart races, I really like it. Because I know that I'm alive.

When I was a little girl I was scared of the dark. I could only sleep with the light on and when I woke up in darkness I hated it. I was also scared of sitting on the toilet seat as I imagined that a hand might come up and grab me and pull me down to the sewers. And I was petrified of mirrors. I did not dare to look into a mirror because I was convinced that something would move behind me, or my reflection would be an evil Hannah. The fear of mirrors came directly from movies I watched as a youngster. Cannibals I could handle, weird happenings in mirrors, I could not. Last night all three of these fears came back. My short trip to the toilet was an anxiety filled one. I imagined being pulled down into the faecal pit of doom. I didn't like turning the lights off behind me and letting the darkness catch up with me. I had to pass the mirror in the hall and I averted my eyes. I didn't look back once, just went straight back to the safety of bed where Zigatron would protect me. I was sleeping again within minutes, the residue of a thought on my mind; why was I so spooked?

It was much later today that I recalled the dream I was having just before I awoke. I was at work and it was announced over the tannoy that a body had been found at the front of the store. Then all the staff members were evacuated because they were going to have to quarantine the store. Epidemics play into one of my biggest fears. At least, I think I'm scared of them. I'm definitely fascinated by them and had been watching a show called Stranger Things last night and they were quarantining a research centre and I thought, "Yaaay! I love a good old 'outbreak' plotline, I hope there's some unexplained bleeding from the ears!" So I guess that's why I was dreaming about it.

I have to say, I actually kinda enjoyed feeling scared last night. I've had bad dreams before that have left me with an unsettled feeling all day long. They are dreams that also play into one of my biggest fears and that's when everyone hates me and they won't tell me why. I'm sure Freud would have a field day with that.