White Noise

Well winter has arrived with wicked vengeance, not merely blanketing, but smothering everything in white choking snow. Waking up this morning was momentarily pleasant, street sounds muffled and the light a diffuse blue-white glow. Then I looked outside. Tiny flying shards hurtling against the glass, tinkling and clicking out of tune. My flat is gloriously overheated, so much so that windows are still open a crack in almost every room, resulting in a tiny mound of snow between the pane and the window seat.

Too muzzy headed for the repsonsibility of standing in the shower, I drew a bath. Sat there thinking for long minutes about the distance between me and my lover, a space that I feel stretching as we both pick our little moments to pull away. I am sad. Not active sadness, just a deep bone-bred grief. I want to just stand on a cliff’s edge and scream until I lose my voice. I want to run until I fall down. I want to burn or freeze or be cut into pieces, but for real. Because that is how I feel.

I am so tired I can barely hold my head up. Last night after work I hurried out to Pho Viet to meet friends for a few bowls of noodles and many bottles of red wine. I’d intended a night in; I am almost never at home these days and the thought of some bubbles, a hot tisane and a pre-Christmas rewatch of "Love Actually" sounded like bliss. Alas, not to be.

The dinner was some sort of work thing organised by my friend Sena, and was both a bigger and longer production than anticipated. We were about twenty around the table, conversation flowing in a mix of French, English and Arabic and growing louder and more boisterous as the night wore on and the bottles emptied. The usual mix of earnest and glamour-puss, some good friends, others of the vaguely familiar I’ve-seen-them-somewhere sort of people.

On to Benelux for drinks and so the night ended at 4am, not great when one has work the next day. I am out so often these days that even the best night is just another great night out, another club, another dress, another conversation about nothing much. I long for a solid stretch of peace and quiet.

Just in time for Christmas party season.