March 18, 2007

The current situation

The boy has been in Merrie ole England for a month today. Daylights savings has ended amidst gusty southwesterlies and a sharp snap that is making it less comfortable to drive bare foot in the mornings. Social outings are relatively rare, and in any case met as an intrusion on my increasing introversion.

But life is actually pretty good. My job is great. Low paid, but lots of glory, and my bosses love me. I flit from manic trial mode to days where I do self-directed research at my leisure. I am unleashed upon the unwitting public, and flying solo as I meet clients in areas ranging from defamation law to a threatening to kill charge to domestic abuse crises. And I'm finally starting to feel like I have some sense of what in the interminable raging-pits of hell is going on. Not to say I have ceased to feel like a shiny Christmas ornament when standing amongst the gray old boys brigade up in the criminal court. But I have am learning to accept that a large part of my job is swallowing one of the most sacred things of my persona - my pride.

I have a very cute flat that I am currently sharing with a beauty technician. As the boy says, she means well and i must go with the flow. And she can be very thoughtful and actually quite funny. But I think she wants a best friend rather than a flat mate. And she cannot fathom my present disdain for any sort of co-dependency. She looks at me like I've a loose screw when I declare I'm off to the beach for a swim on my own. Then she douses me in sunscreen. She appears genuinely hurt when I announce I'm off to bed to read my book rather than staying up for a movie marathon with her. She does a whole lot of baking in the weekend for lunches during the week (I'm actually quite jealous of her domestic prowess). She sleeps with her bedroom door open which I find strange, but it's apparently because the big albino feline duster who spends 95% of his time napping in the most inconvenient spots (in the middle of the hallway, right at the base of the sink when I'm about to start washing dishes) will scratch the bejeezus out of her door if he's shut out. That's another sore point in the relationship between flattie and I. She adores this big useless sedentary snowpuff that just about eats better than I do. And I like big dogs that don't crap inside or leave sausage-like furballs on the living room floor for me to step in bare-footed.

But it's more homely than where I was living with the 2 batchelors. I can snuggle down and hibernate for the winter. And cook lavishly for one in the huge tiled kitchen. And pamper myself in our big bath tub when she is working late nights.

It's very nice for now.

4 Comments:

  • At 11:43 pm, Blogger ~art said…

    sounds like all is well in your world. how about some photos of the area and yourself? Curious Americans you know

     
  • At 5:11 pm, Blogger David said…

    >Then she douses me in sunscreen.

    If having a beauty technician rub sunscreen on me whenever I go out is on offer, then can I move in with the two of you?

     
  • At 5:20 pm, Blogger Jessie said…

    It sounds nice. I am in awe of your legal skillz.

     
  • At 8:14 pm, Blogger David said…

    >If having a beauty technician rub sunscreen on me whenever I go out is on offer, then can I move in with the two of you?

    Oh... and PS... If I'm going to the beach, then I'll probably want to skinny dip. Can you check that she'll be happy sunscreening everything?

     

Post a Comment

<< Home