Autumn's definitely here - my new CAT boots (other makes of fabulous boots are available) arrived from eBay two days ago, and I've been itching to wear them - and today it's cold enough to warrant them. You know what this means? Boot comfort, and because of the thick tights, no need to shave my legs until the spring (possibly too much detail - it's up to you whether you read that bit or not).
My carrel's a little cold - obviously the university, in trying to save money, haven't put the heat on in this end of the library - but no matter. The work's going well today - Durkheim's social facts and links with criminal trials are working out nicely - a little boring, but useful. So, everything should be going well.
But it's the damn XBF. Again.
"Old Girl," I hear you say, "haven't you put paid to that one?"
Well, yes I have. I totally don't want to see him ever again, and I have no feelings of a romantic nature towards him, but we maintain a reasonable contact via email. He tells me his problems, I reply in as neutral a manner as possible, and tell him as little as possible about my life. It works for me - I have no idea what he gets from it, and frankly I don't care.
I do sympathise with his life at work - the public sector is definitely a dire place to be right now - and I know that he's going to have to be making plans as to what will happen should he be made redundant. One of the possibilities that he's been considering for some time now, is to take a leaf out of my book and go to university as a full-time student. Now, with the caveat that he doesn't choose to apply to THIS university or indeed any university anywhere in this part of the south of England, I think that this is a good idea as he's clearly intellectually capable of doing a degree, and he might 'find himself'. God alone only knows what that would look like. But, like the rest of us, he's alarmed about the possibilities of what might happen with the proposed increase of fees, and the ability to actually afford to live were he to go to university. Fair enough, nothing wrong with that. I sent him a brief email suggesting that he should, by all means, be cautious, but that in life sometimes one has to JFDI (google it...).
And, then he tells me that: "I need to get my confidence back first which is proving harder than I thought even after several months."
Um. Pardon? He needs to get his confidence back? Pah.
He damn nearly destroyed any confidence that I had in myself at all. At an incredibly difficult time in my life, he pulled the metaphorical rug from under my feet and landed me on the fat arse of my misery. And it hurt. A lot. Am I supposed to sympathise with this?
I may be cheered by the chilly turn in the weather, but there's a very chilly place in my heart right now.
[With apologies to the Eurythmics]