Funky Town

Meh...

Blood was 6.2 this morning. Got on the bike, did almost an hour. It was dull. Seem to be in a right old funk today. Nothing seems to be right, and I have very little idea why.

Met my Biodad's third wife and chief widow this morning. Biodad, for those not generally keeping up, is not the one who died recently, but the one who died some years ago of hangnails and gangrene. In the aftermath of his death of course, she was ashen and devastated and frozen in her space and time.

Today, she's in bloom. She's bright, and healthy-looking, and smiling.

I'm not sure whether that's the bright spot of my day, or the point at which the generally subconscious funk began.

It's probably some running-deep pustulent bastardy, whining away in the undercurrent of my brain, all the usual postgraduate psychobabble bullshit - starting from a "How can she be so alright?", graduating to a "Will I ever be that alright...and will Ma?", passing briefly through a "What does that mean about us if we do?" phase, and basically collapsing into a deflated shit-flan of wanting to throw myself into a vat of ice cream and see which bit of me freezes first.

Didn't even go to my choir tonight, because somehow, it was like there'd have been something ultimately joyless about my joyful noise.

About to call it a night and go to bed. May...just conceivably...get up at 2 in the morning to watch the first Presidential debate...cos yeah, in case you hadn't noticed, I'm a US Politics Bore given half a chance.

Time to quit Funky Town though, and get on back to Groovy Avenue...