meltdown 8 November 2009
I have calmed right down, my dears. Sleep deprivation led me to quite a heightened week just now and whereas I felt okay for most of it, and work was great, any challenges that might normally have been easy to despatch were mountainous and I overreacted to a few a few too many things. It reached a head on Friday when I got to Manchester airport, having missed the flight I should have been on, and was told that I would have to buy a whole new ticket…for 235 quid. It was the straw across my camel’s back and I went into meltdown. Indeed apologies to the airline staff if they actually saw the full force of it, though I had kinda moved off by the time that happened. I did try to reason with them and point out that I am a VERY frequent flyer with the airline and have enough points to get several FREE flights from the company on the back of that, but to no avail. In the end of all I just couldn’t bring myself to pay that sort of money (I had thought it’s be the 35 pound change of flight fee) and I phoned Richard, upset, to say I was going London-home, not Dublin, because I felt it morally wrong to fork out such a huge amount for a one way trip. There is also the factor that I was going to have to turn around in less than 48 hours and make the return journey and I am fairly sick and tired of airports right now. And I have had a quiet, solo time here in Soho and feel the better of it. Hey, I even got some sleep (and therefore am puffy-eyed and wretched-looking because of me facial muscles relaxing – eek!).
I think there are a lot of reasons why this has come to a head. As you all know, I live in a hotel most of the week and as lovely as it is it’s not exactly home, I have been sleeping badly, I suspect the old perimenopausals are trying to get hold, I am under huge pressure to deliver a book by Christmas (and it is vastly complicated and ambitious and I am terrified of it a lot of the time) and I’m holding down a (lovely) tv job…and all without what I might consider a quality of life to show for it most days of the week. And no beloved G cat to advise me on how to progress. It’s something I will have to have a good look at and also a situation I cannot let out of control – I’ve got to be in charge of this one – all over it like a cheap frock (no better woman in that department, surely, I hear you mutter – cheap frock? oh yes). And, thinking about it, I wonder if I mightn’t get a section of novel out of it??? Hmm, things just got a whole lot more interesting…
