On Monday, I was supposed to interview the historian and tiny Past Times dress-up elf Lucy Worsley. It was for a new editor and I was excited. An interview! Interviews are scary because you have to look relaxed, like you are just having a chat with this famous person, but all the time you are thinking “shit, shit, is any of this useable?” Well, I am thinking that anyway. Being The Interviewer on a paper is quite the grand thing and journalists fight over that gig like foxes in a bin. I was never into scrapping over status like that so I bowed out of the game early on. Still, it’s interesting work and I was thrilled to be asked.
Just as I had prepped myself into a tizzy and was 83% Lucy Worsley - I can tell you literally everything about her (that is in the public domain) - she cancelled the interview. It was unavoidable and I’m not at all cross, she didn’t do anything wrong. And anyway sometimes this happens, famous people are busy and things move around. But I was pretty disappointed.
When Monday rolled around I was at a loss. Usually on Mondays I am so jangled and overstimulated by a weekend of family argy-bargy that I just want to sit quietly and enjoy the silence. But this Monday I was jangled and overstimulated by the weekend but also feeling the loss of this piece of work.
Sometimes this kind of clattery confluence of things can open up The Abyss, particularly on a Monday. You may not know it as The Abyss, but The Abyss is that bleak, black tear in the space-time continuum that happens somewhere to the left or the right of your main field of vision. If you tip too far left or right you will fall into The Abyss and start questioning absolutely everything: why am I such a career failure, such a bad friend, awful wife, slutty mother, negligent daughter, lazy exerciser, poorly organised, unmotivated, slapdash cook and dreary conversationalist? Also: what if we all lose our jobs and let’s face it, my parents are going to die any… minute… now… and why won’t my cat Mo Tenzing come back and live here? and oh my god my face is increasingly like a wedding cake left out in the rain, what the hell does one do about it? Why am I so lazy about taking my collagen? Also, I drink too much.
And so on. That’s The Abyss. Normally to prevent myself from falling headlong into The Abyss I need to distract myself with either a piece of work or going to the shops, not even to buy anything interesting, usually for an item of stationery that my children have lost - special green pen, a protractor - discarded casually like Miranda Priestly and her wretched Hermes scarves.
As it happens I actually rarely distract myself with housework. I tell myself that I am just a little housewife but I actually do fuck all. Anyway in the end I cleared out the fridge of its mystery bowls of slop, DEFROSTED THE FREEZER HELLO?, wrote a meal plan for the week, turned a load of unused white bread rolls leftover from a thing into breadcrumbs and made some Bolognese.
How about you? Do you know what I mean by The Abyss? What does yours look like? How to you prevent yourself from falling headlong never to be seen again.
I am writing to you from the abyss of jetlag. It is currently 1.27am and I have to get up for work tomorrow. I wanted to restart my wfh exercise routine in the morning but I expect that will be bypassed as I will by 7am be just about ready to go to effing sleep. Anyway, I’m lying in (the spare room bed, freezing as we’re not heating this room...) doing a Christmas shopping list and it occurred to me that I haven’t seen a ‘things to ask for’ list from you? I always find your ideas useful.
I have an ‘0’ birthday coming up 👵🏻 and people are asking what I want and I have no idea. What would you ask for? Any sensible suggestions from anyone in the £50-£150 price bracket appreciated....
I go to B&M Bargains. Not sure why but I do. Or sometimes I watch the
Housewives of Cheshire. I try hard not to over eat but I usually do. Recently been treating myself to an hour of heating. Oh and I also find changing the bed helps.