Once again, today, I arose not wishing to arise.
Once again, today, I did no academic work. I did decide, however, that it was wise that I simply pace myself over the next few days, with the exam prep and the essay, and ask for an extension, which was granted.
Tomorrow, I shall awake, break my fast, finish my data processing, record my penultimate video, and set off to town, to study beside my friend, who will be writing.
All in all, actually, today was lovely. I swept, I did all my mending, I knitted one slipper. I reworked and recorded my monologue, I started reading Babel, I wrote another instalment of my satire on Oxford. I spoke to mys siblings whilst I mended and knitted, and I made my former drama teacher proud with my monologue.
And, did I mention, I am 30% of the way to my target with the fundraiser?
Also, there have been some really lovely comments on my videos on the YouTube channel. It’s sweet.
It vaguely upset me that my ex-boyfriend watched two of my stories (one advertising yesterday’s video, and the other re-posting a reel of what it is that the ICRC does), but decided not to answer neither my texts from yesterday, nor comment on the gift. Like, if he is grateful, or indifferent, at least he could thank me; if he thinks the action is inappropriate or confusing, why hasn’t he called me out? But that’s just what he does, when he doesn’t like a situation, and doesn’t know what to do, it would seem. That’s why he left me hanging, a week before he broke up with me.
I take no stock in cowards, I’d hope, but I am reminded by him of who I was a few years ago.
But people take stock in me.
I did a very helpful exercise yesterday. I listed all of the attributes I thought myself to be, when I like myself best. I wrote an entire page, of what I am. I listed my patronymic and all of my grandparents’ surnames to my name, and headed the list with that question, “Who is Isabella … ?”. I think adding all of those reminded me, where it is, and from who it is, that I have come from. What my ancestors did, that I might be here today.
And I think I do need people. It was an odd feeling today, to sit at my desk and knit, and hear my sisters and their Spotify music on the other side. Whereas the music sounded like I’d been put on hold for some company or other, I had the odd sense that my room in Edinburgh had merged with my dining room in Oxford, and I felt at home.
I feel guilty, though. I ought to spend some quality time with my remaining flatmate, and so far it’s just been meals. I have withdrawn, and I really oughtn’t.
I am going to do better. And I will start by going to bed before midnight, today.
And now, for the video you have all been waiting for, the only of the series that may actually be called a skit:
At Least Afloat 