Shhhh....

I've not told Henry any of this...

Friends who own flats in West Street have just put them on the market, for £130K. Each flat comes with an off-road parking place, has two bedrooms with closets, a kitchen with cupboards, and a dining area and living area. And bath tub as well as shower. They're in central Fa'rsham but above ground level. They get light but no gardening required. Access is via entry phone!

Just my cup of tea. To be lost: interesting 4 spaces visible from front door; beams and floor boards; 'rooms' in little conservatory, on the roof. Complete uniqueness.

I'm just feeling like I can cope with the losses, in exchange for the gains. All my stuff in one property, with mess behind a shutable door! Space for a dishwasher, not named Molly... I think I'll make an offer. Valuers coming here on Wednesday and Thursday, and it's bound to have gone up in a year, eh?

Debbie... do you want to move house again? Well, no. But I'm facing costs of painting, reroofing, new front door, interior storage construction. I need to be settled.

And this new place would be as easy to let as the current house, should I move to Louisville.

I'll tell Henry tomorrow.

Clean in deed

Yesterday morning I had a shower, washed hair, then did my face.

This morning I washed my face again and put on makeup; last night I took the day's wear off before bed (altho' I did force myself to stay up, did let wanting to go to bed have any influence, unlike Monday night when I was asleep before midnight). And both days I cleaned my teeth.

Haven't been both clean and made up two successive days since I first got back, January. (Henry's come down off the top of my monitor and is looking at me.)

There is a potential subsequent writing about how I live with myself, the role of Self Control in My World and such. Feels like it would be useful to put it into words - and Henry's curious. (He's so self contained, understated other than being really yellow and never aging.) (And having such black eyes.)

But first, before I do any work or loose the impetus, I want to record my alarm at successive days of cleaning face. No, rather it's alarm at becoming aware of that and the other items of positivity I blogged last night.

I really like Positive Self - clean, made-up and looking like an adult professional woman (I almost always interact like one at work). I like having a clean attractive house, clean undented car; tidy desks, work and home. I like being cheerful, not depressed. (Other than 'manic', what's the natural opposite of 'depressed'?)

The behaviours to achieve these things cannot however be forced - if I try that I stumble big-time. The danger in being aware of little positive activities is that I get excited about the possibility of a real swing in that direction, adding more and more - achieving all those cleanlinesses in the last paragraph, and maybe more! I start thinking about how to do it, and that becomes a forcing, and my nails would go back to splitting in a week or two... (I took vitamins today too.)

I need to leave my thinking out of it, not make plans, and let myself continue to emerge.

Henry thinks I'm a little wierd.

Six of one...

Henry's not been talking to me much lately. We exchange brief glances at work.

I've gradually come to feel back in an accustomed place, this life I have here. At the same time my Louisville life ebbs.

Then I get feedback forms from a couple of my What Next? clients, both very positive about the work we did. It reminds me of how exciting that was to get going, and I'm doing nothing like it here now.

My place at work is settling down. My immediate boss, S, has learned some nice things. He remembers to give credit to me when he cites an idea of mine, and in my annual Individual Development Plan meeting (annual appraisal, in other companies) he said something along the lines of valuing my general input - I'm basically helpful to have around.

That was nice because that's rather how I experience the way I move at work - putting bits in here and there as I see the need.

But my projects are to find and put in systems to monitor traffic and water. I'm not sure if that's just not a bit boring. Even with the occassional trip to Amsterdam for an exhibition.

I know things are a bit better because my nails were all splitting when I first got back. Now they're staying solid, and I bought new polish (a translucent pale apricot) and put it on. Need to get clothes organised next.

I did get my car windscreen repaired; and have made the insurance claim to fix the dent in the bonnet where some 'yuff' kneeded it (at least, that's the shape of the dent). Don't know if it happened in Faversham or Dover - either is possible. Want to move in safe places, but I'm not sure that's possible any more.

And I did membership letters for Friends of the Creek. So I'm mustering positive actions. And not drinking a bottle of wine every night. Even caught up with the dishes.

Frances fell at Sunday School, broke her wrist - happy with the shiny green cast on it, but I bet Dad is having to do more in the house, as well as drive her everywhere. Thank goodness she's not driving! She fell again a couple of days later at home, hurt her nose. What's that about?

Henry would probably say 'Whatever', being in that mood.