Keeping Things Moving

I was just having a post D&D session chat with myr s and Lady B via the wonders of Discord and the topic turned to ways of dealing with the grey blur of days in lockdown.

As I rambled through the sorts of things I’ve been doing, I had a bit of a realisation: that most of the small things I do in the house involve moving little bits around to present vistas. I’ve been rearranging the placement of groups of funko pops, or rearranging books in their shelves, or moving minor pieces of furniture. At first I thought it was just lazy tidying, but there’s something more interesting going on.

One of the things I’ve learned while managing libraries is that displays and notices need to be varied in placement and composition quite regularly. This is because people very quickly get used to them and overlook them. Why? Well apparently its related back to our prehistoric roots where pattern recognition evolved as survival hinged on spotting things out of place that might be a predator.

When we see something new, our attention catches to assess if it is a threat or opportunity, before being relegated to known background while we search for the next anomaly.

During more normal times, going out keeps the brain fed with new stimuli to process and assess, but at home we start to climb the walls because we’ve assessed the normal surroundings as safe and yet that primitive part keeps screaming that we just haven’t spotted the tiger yet.

So, I’m in a process of keeping my living space and activities in flux to satisfy my brain’s inherent paranoia. It seems to work, and probably explains why I find data cleansing both easy and a high stress activity.

There’s probably a good debate to be had there that its not so much a matter of a low boredom threshold as ongoing hypervigilance on my part, because reasons.

But thats a whole other story for another time.

A Taxi Conversation

The other week I stayed with lady s for a few days. That’s not in itself odd as I’ve had more than a few weekends there over the last couple of years, but it was the first time that extended into the working week.

The original plan had been to get picked up by Lady M after work on the Wednesday, but she was decidedly unwell and so suggested grabbing a taxi home and charging it to the emergency credit card.

So with the help of my trusty app I did just that, absolutely making the day of a wonderfully garrulous driver who chatted away with me about life, the universe, and everything – after first getting his head round my answers to his questions.

You see, he asked where I was off to, and what I’d been doing, and got very confused for a moment when I mentioned one partner’s name and then another, and talked of the two houses as homes – but as I clarified the situation further and confirmed our relationships are all consensual and clearly communicated among us he nodded, grinned, said it sounded wonderful – and that was the end of any questions on that front. Instead we talked of driving, of families, ambitions, and the peculiarities of Christmas shopping.

It was heartening and a lovely surprise in many ways. It certainly reaffirmed my faith in people in that moment.

Musings and Muses

I’m blessed with the company and at least grudging acknowledgement of a wide range of beautifully odd people, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Between the fearless men, women, and occasionally undecided of the #Tuesday crowd and the staunchly acerbic miscreants who’ve stuck with me on social media, I couldn’t ask for a fiercer, more awesome group of people to light up my day.

Then there are those who have got drawn into my orbit and who really arent sure what they’re getting into. Don’t worry, we’ll have you so distracted you won’t care enough to fight your truly surreal real selves from emerging in due course.

Okay, do you think that’s scared the normals away? Just us freaks and weirdos left? Excellent.

I’ve had two conversations today that just seem to shine a suitable light, and I thought I’d share them and maybe raise a smile.

The first was with the beautiful Mre B, with whom I’ve had a running conversation via messaging most of the day. As part of that conversation, I mentioned my disquiet that I discovered yesterday that a book shop exists about ten minutes away, the existence of which I had been unaware of for over six years. 

I mentioned that I had been strong, and not bought anything when I found it. Her exact words were: “I’m a little concerned about you resisting the temptation of a bookshop…”

As anyone who has seen my home will attest, this is a fair comment, given I have enough books to make shelving on which I can store more books.

I was in a whimsical mood, and so this was my defence: “I have some self-control. Some. A bit. Occasionally. If I have no money. Okay, I admit it, I didn’t go in because I had no money. I stopped and looked longingly in the window at the precious things until they asked me to leave…”

The conversation got a little surreal from there, involving policemen and shop assistants with cattleprods. It’s been that kind of day.

By contrast, while winding down this evening with Lady M, we hugged and she stumbled in the direction of a nearby window. This led me to quip that I didn’t fancy calling her boss to say that Lady M wouldn’t be in work in the morning because we’d hugged and then she’d jumped out the window, and I was finding it very hard not to take it personally. It ticked Lady M so much, we nearly had another asthma incident.

Somehow these two conversations seem to sum up the randomness, joy, and surprises of my life right now. It’s been a pretty awful year, but in this last week or so I’ve started smiling again – grinning even – and had a renewed burst of creativity when it comes to my writing (as an added bonus). 

I could even be accused of being happy; and I’m sure that has some people looking anxious right now, if not for the exits.

How the hell did that happen?