Sunday, September 25, 2005

PMT (Pre-Monday Tension, or a Restless Sunday Afternoon)

Just as I finished 'The Line of Beauty' (Alan Hollinghurst if you're interested - exerpt at that link, well written, looks at life of Tories during Thatcher's reign, through the eyes of a young gay man who is driven by beauty and I suppose wealth), whilst lying in bed this afternoon surrounded by the decadent discarded crumbs of my late breakfast, sheets of rain flashed down outside my bedroom window.

Feeling cosy, yet restless - my book was almost over and I was really into it (as often happens after four hundred or so pages of a well written jaunt) but as I had planned to go to the Botanic Gardens to have a look at the sculpture exhibition, the rain and my inherent laziness made it just not seem worth the bother. Disengaged by my distraction, I began to race through the final pages of the story.

All too soon it was over, and having noone to discuss it with, I began to ponder what I would do. Intersperse this with my wandering mind going back over the characters of the book, beginning to mourn the ending of my relationship with Nick Guest, the main character, I found myself dressed in my gym clothes.

I'm not so keen on the gym, I've only been there once every three months or so this year, but seeing as I'm all dressed for the ocassion, I guess that's where I'll spend the rest of the afternoon. Maybe walk up a hill watching Cagney and Lacey (if the re-runs are on, but I think that's a Saturday thing) or catch part of the all-Ireland while cycling on the same spot for a while. The pool might be empty, so I won't have to pretend to be a grown up and do lengths, I may even get to do a handstand, although, maybe not.

It's crazy to think that I spend Monday through Friday mornings wishing it was the weekend (when I get into the office, that craving usually is replaced by one for coffee, fags and booze, all at once preferably), and Saturday I'm the happiest bunny in the Easter Party, until Sunday when I often flop about restlessly, unless I'm in town getting pissed or doing something useful like watching TV or going to a thing (insert book, film, coffee and chat, food market) or something. All week, I think to myself that if I had time off, I would write or paint or make something of myself, but when I get the opportunity, fizz goes that ambition.

I feel like a worker-bee or an ant - the thought that this is it for the rest of my adult life is terrifying, yet, instead of doing anything, here I am in my ridiculous ill-fitting, altmodish sports gear, about to get into the car and drive for twenty minutes in traffic to an air-conditioned industrial warehouse that is kitted out as a gym...

It's just so absurd, I don't even like exercise.

Comments:
I was just browsing various blogs as I was doing a search on the word poster, and I just wanted to say that I really like what you've done with your blog, even though it wasn't particularly related to what I searched for. I appreciate your postings, and your blog is a good example of how a blog should be done. I've only just recently started a Posters website - feel free to visit it when you get a chance if you wish. Much success, antonio.
 
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