Merry Christmas! Joyeux Noel! Happy New Year! Auld Lang Syne! etc. etc. I have always held traditions & rituals close to my heart & especially at this time of year when both are in abundant supply - Christmas cannot pass without terrible television & eating all of the cheese. Unfortunately I find it very difficult to write without being able to, err, write which has been the case of late & particularly in the last couple of weeks (hello typing-with-one-hand over here) An RSI injury that pre-dates this blog & my undergraduate degree decided to resurface just lately, be it due to the excess of sanity-saving scribbling in my notebook or the mountains of sprouts that I've had to peel & score over the last fortnight, my left wrist has swollen massively & left me crucially unable to either write or unscrew a jar of capers. Both I & my doctors, albeit secretly, suspected it's down to my 'gifted' left-handedness but it's been an occasional agony for the worst part of five years & despite two steroid injections into the tendon in my wrist, my relationship with Deep Freeze is going strong. The pain is worse than ever this time around, often keeping me awake & always having me frustrated, inevitably at a time when I'm in need of the eternal confidante of my notebook more than ever.
Christmas was alright. Certain traditions weren't upheld, others have changed entirely, the child within me who often surfaces in my mum's presence wasn't best pleased at this, to say the least I sense that home for me has changed quite irrevocably for me & that's something that I won't be able to settle with myself for a long while. I know that I should take the opportunity as an incentive to make more of a life for myself, independently, in London as I've been attempting or at least pretending to do for going on six years now. This last couple of weeks have been lonely & exhausting & recur to me in a montage of crawling into bed with my little sister at ten o'clock & staring at the chipped bathroom ceiling of my childhood home that will only be ours for another three weeks. Perhaps I could take a positive from this, given a better mood than this one.
Take this as an out-of-office for another week or so while I try to get a doctor's appointment & convince myself that such intense pain in my writing hand isn't my body's attempt to make me shut up but to get it to speak a little louder.
I'll be back soon enough having written that 6,000 word essay that has been looming with a round-up of mine & aforementioned sister's festive bakes, recent reads & a clearer view of the horizon.
Speak soon - O.
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