The Order of Things

When I was younger I found moving anywhere a real struggle.

And very stressful.

Partly because a lot of the places I lived in were fairly grotty- but cheap- and needed decoration (demolitioning).Which usually amounted to pinning up a few posters and illuminating things dimly with a few fairy lights.

But also because I struggled with creating order from the chaos of boxes.

My mind is such that I enjoy logical systems- when they are in place and I can remember them.

But I don't find developing such systems comes very naturally- too left brain for a creative person, like me (that's my excuse and I stuck to it- for years).

I have a lot of cds (hundreds).

Partly because in a lot of the jobs I've had over the years, you get given them (how cool is that?) but also because I have two little shoppping fixes- if I'm in a "treat" mindset, feel a bit down etc: cds and dvds.

For some reason, it took me ages to develop a taxonomy for cds that works. Why I didn't just go to HMV and copy theirs, I don't know.

Re-inventing the wheel comes to mind.

Anyways, over the many years it's taken me to feel like a grown-up (sometimes)..that's all of my teens, twenties and first five years of the thirties.. I have finally cracked it (famous last words) and have in-built systems for filing all things.

I'm not going to claim that I actually do file all things.

But I do have a system, for when I can be arsed to file all things.

This morning was a joy. In H's kitchen, merging my food and equipment with hers. Am I being really peervy- but, I found that sentence quite sexy? (Yes, I am being!)

It feels like in lots of different ways- filing stuff being one of the less important areas- I am coming to a place of actually becoming the person I have always wanted to be.

Finally.

I'm really getting my sh** together (One Day At A Time).

Before I get too carried away...

Last night when I arrived at H's I was greeted by her lovely dad. We were walking to my car to collect boxes and my foot went down a hole in the grass verge and I turned my ankle- partially tearing an old ligament injury. So spent the evening with my leg up with an ice compress attached.

H being a netballer used some acronym for this process but I've forgotten it (as I'm a St John's Ambulance qualified first-aider I have forgotten the acronym twice now) but I do know all about ice compresses- ouch!

Why am I telling you this?

I have the dodgy ankle because when I was 18 I insisted that a ju-jitsu instructor let me join his class- he said it was for men-only, which is a total red rag to me.

Because I had quoted sex discrimation legislation at him (his class was in a local authority leisure centre) he didn't like me very much. And so paired me with this Hagrid of a man.

After throwing this mountain of a man a few times I was worn out and left my leg in the way. The crunch noise was horrific and my ankle swelled up like a cricket ball.

It has never been the same again.

From an unconscious perspective it is interesting that i had this little accident last night because the last time I turned it badly was on my first holiday with the last woman I lived with (in 2000).

Back then I was totally pissed, dancing down the street and I fell off a kerb (in Tourmina, Sicily).

This time around I fell- dramatically- but I had biker boots on and was not drunk and so got immediate treatment. Consequently I have only a slight hobble today.

I think the reason I'm saying all this is because it shows how life moves on but the past is always with us.

Last night I had a horrible fear dream about relapsing on heroin (a drug I used a few times but didn't like).

When I woke up this morning- clean and sober- I felt so happy to have left that past and to be starting out on a new adventure.

Lots of order to be created.

Glad that Sunday is a day of rest.

I'm going to need it.