Last night I finished work at 8:00 pm, I generally do a lot of travel for work, BUT at the moment its just not possible, So I spend much too much time in an office, drinking a lot of water and imagining its a large caramel latte.
Any-way back to what I wanted to write about.
Last night I returned home to an empty apartment, which I loved, it meant I could watch gossip girl without the whinging.
"The Boy" Had gone out with friend's to the Paddington Arms for a few drinks. He had been pretty good the last few weekends as far as drugs and his temper goes. He had calmed down a lot so I wasn't worried.
I woke up at 3 am and he wasn't home yet, I didn't do any-thing, just went back to sleep.
It was 7:00 am and I heard the door slam, and in comes "The Boy"
He was out of it, completely trashed. He than started asking me who I was.
I said "don't be silly, you know who I am"
"No, I don't what the fuck are you doing in my house" " The Boy said"
I was shocked, so I asked him to sit down, and tried explaining to him that it was not just "his house " It was "Our house"
He was very fidgety and unable to focus, he stood up and started pacing up and down the spiral stairs (We have a spiral staircase that leads up to the bedroom)
It was nearly 8 am by this time and I didn't have the energy to deal with him, so I went in to the bathroom to have a shower and get dressed.
Whilst, I was in the shower I start hearing all these thumping and banging noises.
I get out of the shower, get dressed and go in to the kitchen. "The boy" Had thrown the microwave on the kitchen floor, along with all the pots, He had smashed jars of olives,curry paste,capers etc and it was a mess. "The boy" Was creating some-thing or at least he thought he was. I ask him what he's doing, and he tells me that he is trying to create some clarity by being creative.
He reminded me of one of those men you see sitting in the street, selling irrelevant trinkets and mumbling a whole lot of un relatable words. "
The Boy" Clearly knew what he was doing, however I just couldn't understand it.
I did understand what his statement meant though, So I decided I would do the same thing, I waited until he went to sleep, and than went to Oxford art supplies, I bought some canvas and some paint came home and painted for the whole afternoon.
"The boy" is still asleep, when he wakes up I will go over this morning's events with him and show him how I chose to be creative.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
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Thanks a lot for your comment on my blog. I also liked your blogs, like you I also do a lot of travel for work, and feel the same thing everytime I went home.
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